Mischief by Moonlight (23 page)

Nick read the spine of the book. “
Journeys
in
Italy
by Mrs. Renfrew.” He glanced up.

Colin shrugged. “Inspiration to travel.”

Nick laughed. “Much good it may do, after four years of chaining herself to a divan.”

Colin watched Nick leave with a sense of relief. It sickened him that he might feel relief at having time away from his friend, but with all that could not be said, and the raging jealousy he must each moment force aside, he did.

Blast, what a muddle. What a secret, disordered, damned muddle.

Yet here was the thing he couldn't stop thinking about: Did Josie and Nick really love each other?

Or might she have been coming to love
him
, Colin?

How could she marry Nick, if that was the case, wounded war hero or not?

But could Colin really allow himself to be the cause of depriving his best friend of the woman who'd been his lodestar over the last year, when he'd been living through the hell of war?

***

Mrs. Cardworthy, not having gone to the ball, was on the divan at her usual time the morning afterward and calling out to the servants for all manner of things.

Josie listened to their voices as she lay in bed. She didn't want to get up for the day. However, it wasn't long before Sally knocked on her door with the message that her mother was looking forward to seeing her as soon as possible.

Bleary with sleep, Josie dragged a brush through her hair and put on her yellow and white striped muslin gown, knowing that her mother would want to hear all about the ball, and not at all wanting to think about it herself. Especially her conversation with Colin.

As she descended the stairs, it occurred to her that it had now been two days since she and Edwina had discarded Mama's elixir, and yet their mother seemed so far unchanged by its absence. Josie had expected any day—any hour—that Mrs. Cardworthy would experience an unhappy withdrawal from the crutch that the elixir had become, but so far there'd been no signs, and now as Josie went into the sitting room, Mrs. Cardworthy seemed just as usual.

Did they really dare hope she would surrender the elixir so quietly? And yet she'd been so needful of it. Josie felt rather too tired to think about it just then.

“Well, my dear, finally. Edwina is still sleeping,” Mama said once Josie had sat down in the chair near the divan, where her mother was already surrounded by a pot of chocolate and a plate of toast. “So Nicholas Hargrave has come back, safe and sound.”

“Yes.” Josie really didn't want to talk about this, but such reluctance would make no sense to her mother. Anyway, Nicholas was back, and she must accustom herself to the way everything had shifted again. “It was astonishing to see him, of course. But how happy I am—everyone is—that he is alive and recovered from his ordeal.”

“It's a great mercy. A blessing for us all.” Did her mother pause then, as though collecting herself after saying words spoken reluctantly? Of course Mama was not unkind, but she
had
been rather accepting of the loss of Nicholas when they'd thought him dead.

Eagerness lit her mother's eyes. “Tell me all about the ball. What was Mrs. Townsend wearing? She's known to be fashionable. And the vicar's wife? How many young ladies did Lawrence dance with?”

But Josie was determined not to take the easy path of avoidance that had abetted her mother these last four years. “If only you could have been there, you would have been able to see for yourself.” She let the silence stretch out as her mother waited for her to supply answers to her questions.

When it became apparent she would say no more, her mother said tartly, “You might have a little compassion for an invalid, Josephine. I must depend on others to bring the world to me, as I cannot go out to meet it.”

“Mama,” Josie said in the kindest possible tone she could summon amid the frustration she felt with her mother, “you can go out to meet the world anytime you like. If you would but agree to try to get up and go out, we would all of us help you.”

But her mother made no reply, save for a hardening of her jaw. She took up the pot of chocolate and began pouring herself a cup. “And I suppose,” she began in a hurt tone, “that now you and Nicholas will pick up where you left off and begin making plans for the wedding.”

Josie pressed her lips together. She didn't want to think about the wedding. “In fact, Nicholas has asked me to break our engagement—”

“What? The scoundrel!” her mother said, but there was a note of glee underlying her outrage.

“So he can court me anew,” Josie finished. “Because we had so much time apart, and because I believed for nearly two months that he was dead, he thought we needed a fresh start. And I agree with him.”

Her mother's eyes lit up. “What a fine idea! Why rush into matrimony?”

Josie just sighed.

Nicholas appeared in the late morning, and Josie and Edwina went for a walk with him. She was grateful that he didn't press her for time alone yet, or even maneuver her aside for a private word. Of course they would have some chances for private words together in the coming days, and she would be glad for it, of course she would. But not just yet.

After Nicholas bid them good-bye to go into town to attend to some affairs, Josie and Edwina paused in the dining room to assess the state of the divan campaign.

“So,” Josie said, “do you think Mama could somehow be getting elixir after all? She seems so agreeable today, just as though nothing's changed.”

“Maybe she's going to accept things and go along with our plan for her improvement.”

“And maybe our hens will fly into town.”

Edwina cocked her head. “What's got you so gloomy? I should think you'd be on top of the world, what with Nicholas returned and wanting to court you all over again. I'm sure you were the envy of every woman at the ball last night: to be courted
twice
by a brave and handsome man.”

“Of course I'm over the moon that he's come back. And I know how fortunate I am.”

“Unless,” Edwina said with studied unconcern, “you're having second thoughts about Colin.”

“Of course not.”

“Really?” Edwina said. “Because I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching, and it's hot enough to set the drapes on fire. And the more I've thought about it, the more I see that you must have been the reason he raced to London to help me.”

“He came to help you because he's a friend of the family. Truly, what happened between us will stay in the past.”

Edwina gave her a measured, rather skeptical look. “Well then, you won't have any regrets about choosing Nicholas a second time. I suppose you've had an entire year to think about being married to him, even if you didn't get to spend any of that time getting to know him.”

She could hear Edwina's suggestion that she might be making a wrong choice, but she didn't dare entertain it.

“Listen, Edwina, if—when Nicholas and I get engaged again, I want you to know I won't fix a wedding date until we've gotten Mama off the divan. I am determined, and I won't leave you here to be responsible for everything.”

Edwina waved a hand dismissively and glanced casually out the window, though not before Josie saw the corner of her mouth tremble. “Don't worry about me. I'll have everything I need here, and I always was going to be the spinster aunt. I really am quite satisfied with my lot.”

“You're
not
going to be a spinster. If we can get Mama out in the world, and get her to spend some of this fortune that's just sitting around, only think of the gentlemen you might meet in Italy, or Ireland, or any old wonderful place. Or maybe,” Josie said with a meaningful look, “you might go back to London and see if you don't run into Whitby again.”

Bright color bloomed in Edwina's cheeks. “I could never,” she began, then abandoned whatever she was going to say and cleared her throat. “Anyway, Mama looks no more likely to get off that divan than she did before we started our campaign. It's not going to happen.”

Josie crossed her arms. “I
vow
that if and when Nicholas proposes, I won't accept him unless Mama gets up and starts really living.”

“That's ridiculous and unnecessary. And Nicholas will think you've lost your mind if you tell him you can't marry him because of this.”

“Nevertheless, I won't leave with things as they are.”

“We'll see,” Edwina said in her best older-sister voice.

At lunchtime, a messenger arrived with an invitation for the Cardworthys to dine at Greenbrier that evening.

“I suppose you girls and Lawrence must go,” Mrs. Cardworthy said dispiritedly.

“Mama, you are invited as well,” Josie pointed out.

Her mother didn't dignify that with a response beyond saying, “Will and Matthew will keep me company. You may give my regards to Nicholas and Ivorwood.”

Josie didn't really want to go—the idea of being in the same room with both Nicholas and Colin now made her feel ill—but it was going to happen at some point, so she knew it was best to get it over with.

“Honestly,” Edwina said cheerfully that evening as the three of them walked up the path to Greenbrier, “you're moving so slowly, Josie, one would think you weren't eager to arrive.”

“Maybe she's changed her mind and doesn't like Nicholas after all!” Lawrence said with gleeful, brotherly wickedness. “Wouldn't that be hilarious, and so like a woman.”

“It would not,” Josie said, “and if anyone is inconstant, it is young men. I heard you telling Matthew last week that Mary Warren is the prettiest girl in the world, and yesterday it was Lucinda Smith.”

“Do stop bickering, the two of you,” Edwina said, “or you'll make us unpleasant guests.”

“Who are you,” Lawrence said, “and what have you done with Edwina? She loves to bicker.”

“Hush,” Edwina said softly, and Josie felt a surge of affection for her, and sadness for the troubles that had changed her.

Dinner felt like a performance to Josie. Nicholas kept up a steady, respectful attendance that painted her as the golden girl of England, unknowingly miring her deeper in guilt. Colin said little, though she felt him smoldering at her from the far end of the table.

The only thing that made the evening bearable was her brother, who kept dragging the conversation back to the army, the navy, and the war. Josie had never thought she would feel grateful to Napoleon, but the topic kept the conversation neutral.

The men declined to retire from the ladies, and the party lingered at the table, talking of Spain, until Edwina stood and said they must go. Josie wanted to leave the room quickly, but Edwina had stopped Nicholas to ask him about the colors of fabric he'd observed in Spain, and Lawrence was asking about cavalry horses.

Colin was behind her at the far end of the table, but she didn't look at him as she made for the door. She wasn't quite there when he took hold of her arm.

She turned around. “Let me go,” she whispered intently, not wanting to draw attention to them.

He smiled. “Never.”

She blinked. “This is some sort of competition to you, isn't it? And to think I used to consider you sweet.”

“Never consider a man sweet, my dear. You will be overlooking intentions of which you can have no understanding.”

His voice softened in a way that reminded her of all the friendship that had existed between them. “I miss being with you, dearest Josephine.”

With a glance that told him the others had just moved through the doorway, he leaned forward and brushed his cheek against hers as though he were going to tell her something more, but he didn't. Instead, the light scratch of his whiskers gave her shivers.

And then he was standing next to her, gesturing for her to leave the room ahead of him in the most gentlemanly manner possible. She wanted to yell at him to leave her be, but of course she could not.

The cacophony that awoke Josie the next day was not unexpected. It was her mother, yelling angrily downstairs in the sitting room. Josie had a fairly good idea what it was about, since after Mrs. Cardworthy had gone upstairs to bed, Josie had gone into the deserted sitting room to search for hidden elixir.

She found it in the most safe, convenient place of all for her mother: under the divan seat cushions.

Now she scrambled out of bed and started pulling on clothes as the raging went on below.

“You will tell me where it is, Sally, or you can find yourself another position,” Mrs. Cardworthy thundered as Josie hastily did up the ties on the first gown her hand touched, a white lawn gown with tiny pink roses embroidered on the bodice that she'd gotten in London.

“It wasn't me, ma'am,” came the pitiable reply.

As Josie rushed down the stairs, she heard a cry and the sounds of the sobbing maid running out into the garden.

In the drawing room, Mrs. Cardworthy sat stiffly upright on the divan, every line of her body emanating fury.

“Josephine Cardworthy,” she said in a dark voice Josie hardly recognized that made her think of witches, “is this your doing?”

“Yes. I found your hidden elixir, and it's all gone now.”

Her mother's face grew livid. “How dare you!”

Edwina appeared at Josie's side just as the wooden India tiger hit the wall by the doorway and landed with a clatter on the floor, minus its yellow-and-black tail.

“Gad, what do we do now?” she said under her breath.

“We can't give in,” Josie whispered. Neither of them advanced into the room, preferring to stay out of range. Josie found herself wishing for Colin, for his steadiness and wisdom. He always seemed to know what to do in difficult situations. But these were the thoughts of a madwoman, because Colin wasn't simply Colin anymore: he was diabolical and beguiling, and she didn't know what crazy thing he would do next.

To her mother, Josie said, “Mama, the elixir was doing you more harm than good.”

“Unfeeling child! All of you—you're the devil's children!” Mrs. Cardworthy said in that witchy, awful voice. “As hard as your father.”

“She's terrifying,” Edwina murmured. “I fear if we don't let her have the elixir, the servants will all desert us.”

“We'll just have to distract her while she gets used to not having it. If we can get her past the craving for it, maybe she won't need it at all.”

“I'm afraid of what would happen if she got off the divan in this state.”

Mrs. Cardworthy threw several of the brass Indian bowls at her daughters. “Get out! If you're not going to bring the elixir, get out!”

They both retreated into the corridor, out of range.

“We can't allow anyone to see her like this,” Edwina said.

“No, only family,” Josie agreed.

Edwina gave Josie a serious look. “Not even Colin, or Nicholas, and he's meant to be courting you.”

Josie, who'd begun to think she'd had enough time with gentlemen of late, didn't think a holiday from their company was a bad idea. In fact, when she thought about how she was meant to be laying the foundation for her future with Nicholas, she felt so confused and unhappy that she quite wanted at least a month's holiday from both of them, perhaps two.

She realized that where once she had rushed impetuously into decisions, she now felt inclined to postpone making them interminably.

“If Nicholas doesn't want to court me because I can't invite him inside, then he's made of less stern stuff than I thought.”

They sent Lawrence in with a tea tray.

“You're her favorite,” they said, putting a few biscuits on the tray as a treat, along with the toast their mother always had with her pot of chocolate. “She won't hurt you.”

Lawrence returned their encouraging smiles with a grim look, but he took in the tray.

***

Mrs. Cardworthy had worn herself out with fury by early that afternoon and fallen asleep on the divan. When Nicholas appeared for a visit, Josie invited him to stroll in the garden, where they would be unlikely to disturb her mother—or be disturbed by her, should she awaken and start shouting. Josie decided they would take it as progress that her mother had now gone for half a day without the elixir, however reluctantly.

The early October day was cool and dry with crisp notes of autumn, and the sun shone brightly in a vivid blue sky. A perfectly dreamy day, and here she was with perfectly dreamy Nicholas. This was exactly the sort of scene she'd conjured for herself in the first months after they'd gotten engaged.

He was telling her about everything he wanted to do, now that he was back in England.

“I want to tour the Lake District and travel all through Scotland. I've never made a proper visit there, and they say the fishing can't be topped.”

“That sounds lovely,” Josie said, even though she couldn't quite imagine it, couldn't imagine what it would be like traveling with a husband. With Nicholas for a husband. She didn't even particularly care for fish.

Self-disgust prodded her. It had been easy enough to dream of a future with Nicholas until she'd crossed over the line of friendship with Colin.

This thought in particular was plaguing her: How long had Colin wanted to touch her? And what was it that he did to her when he touched her? Because she seemed to lose all sense.

It didn't matter. She was going to be with Nicholas. That was the right thing to do.

He looked down at her and smiled. “But of course I hope you shall come with me on my travels, as my wife.”

Something caught at her, as if she couldn't tolerate plans for the future, the idea that all those dreams they'd shared when they were courting would soon come to pass.
It's so final
, something in her whispered.
Of
course
, she told herself sternly.
What
else
would
it
be
?

She put aside her vague reservations. “Aren't you getting a little presumptuous, Mr. Hargrave?” she scolded lightly, glad that the charade of courting again allowed her to keep more formality between them. She needed it just now, but surely with time, she told herself, the idea of marrying him wouldn't feel odd. She was so grateful to him for this chance to get to know each other again.

He grinned, enjoying the game. Fortunately, he seemed content to keep things light between them, for which she was grateful.

“What do you think of a jaunt into Upperton today, Miss Cardworthy? I've a longing for a pot of tea at the Hare and Hound, at one of those funny, half-broken little tables under the birch tree. We could bring your sister and brothers and make an afternoon of it.”

“Perfect.”

“Shall we send over to see if Ivorwood wants to join us?” Nicholas asked.

“If you like,” she said, careful to keep her tone neutral.

A servant was dispatched with a message, but the reply came back that the earl was already engaged.

“Ah, well,” Nicholas said, “if I know him, he's too deeply entombed among his books to want to leave. Probably pondering some crusty old monarch this very moment.”

But Edwina was happy to come, as were Lawrence, Will, and Matthew, who were excused from their studies. The group set out cheerfully on foot for the mile walk into town.

See
, Josie told herself as she listened to Nicholas talk to her brothers,
he
is
an
utterly
perfect
man.
Polished, savvy, charming, and very, very handsome.

She did wonder about his war experiences, which surely must have had some significant effect on him, but he didn't speak of them much, and when he did it was only in passing. She could easily understand his not wishing to speak of them at all.

They had their tea, and then Nicholas suggested a visit to the vicar, and so they walked to the vicarage and had more tea with Mr. and Mrs. Biddle. Josie was beginning to feel full of drink and a bit tired, but Nicholas seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy, and he proposed they make their way back over the hills to the east of the village.

When they got to the hills, he challenged her brothers to sprint down. The boys were quite game. Edwina and Josie stood at the top, watching them.

“Nicholas has a sort of constant motion about him, doesn't he?” Edwina said. “You must find it so diverting.”

“Diverting. Yes,” Josie said. Though traitorously, while once she'd loved his spirit of constant action, she now felt a little irritated by his need to keep doing things. Being with him was making her feel worn out, and she almost felt that he was
itchy
in her presence. She couldn't put her finger on it, though, as he'd been nothing but gracious and enthusiastic, and she scolded herself for being silly.

“I'm going to run down as well,” she said. “Join me?”

But Edwina only laughed.

So Josie pitched herself down the hill, yelling as her forward momentum almost sent her face-first into the grass, and it really was quite fun. She reached the bottom laughing, and for a moment wondered what Colin would have thought.

But it was good he hadn't come, because she was supposed to be forgetting him. She hoped he was forgetting her, and that he had no plans to reveal any of their secrets to Nicholas. How she wished there weren't any secrets to reveal.

Afterward, they all walked back to Jasmine House. When they arrived, Josie's siblings discreetly disappeared inside, and she walked around to the back garden with Nicholas. They stopped by the path that led to Greenbrier.

“It's been so good to spend time with you today,” he said. “It's good to get back to normal. To the way things were supposed to be.”

“Yes,” she said.

“And I hope it won't be too long before…” He smiled sheepishly. “But of course, we've only just started courting. It's too early to speak of plans.”

She didn't want to make plans yet either. Suddenly, she felt grateful for that vow she'd made to Edwina. She cleared her throat. “I should tell you that my mother is not doing very well. She's not exactly ill,” she hurried to say as a look of concern came over his face, “it's only that, well, you know how we are trying to urge her to get off the divan?”

“Yes.”

“It's not going well at the moment. That is, we've just realized she's been a little…adversely affected by the elixir she's been taking for quite some time, and she's just now given it up. So we're focusing on helping her weather the change.”

“I see.”

“So you understand, I hope, that I won't feel able to make any plans for the future just yet, until Mama has been helped to find a healthier way of living? That I won't feel I can in good conscience engage myself?”

He absorbed her words. “You wish to say that this undertaking may require some time?”

“Very possibly. I can't say how long. And of course I understand if you feel you cannot wait.”

He moved his hand as though he were going to take hers but stopped himself and smiled instead. “Of course I don't mind waiting,” he said with surprising cheerfulness. “You waited more than a year for me.”

“Oh,” she said, “how can you speak of the little I endured while you were away risking your life?”

“Waiting is always hard, isn't it?” A faraway look came into his eyes. “Anyway,” he said, refocusing on her, “at least this time we won't be apart. It will be almost easy.”

He smiled kindly, and she was relieved to see that he seemed to have taken the news well. She ignored the little stab of disappointment that her words hadn't discouraged him.

He set off down the path and Josie went inside Jasmine House, where she was greeted with the news that her mother had insisted the doctor be called.

“And when he arrived,” Edwina said, having gotten the report from Sally, “she told him she was in desperate need of Framer's Elixir. But it wasn't old Dr. Denton who came—it was his nephew, young Dr. Denton. And young Dr. Denton doesn't believe in elixirs. He examined Mama and told her that she needs exercise and that she must avoid spirits at all cost for at least six months.”

“Well, now we have it officially.”

“And she liked to hear it just as well.” Edwina frowned. “Apparently, he also suggested she take up a hobby or go visiting. He recommended a visit with Mrs. Phillips, since she is also a widow, and won't they have so many things in common.”

“How did she take that suggestion?”

“She told him she didn't need anything from ‘the locals.' And he said, ‘What about our Lord's command to love your neighbor as yourself?' There wasn't really anything she could say in reply to that. But it didn't make her get up, either.”

***

Late that night, a clattering sounded at Josie's window, waking her up. She jumped out of bed and went over to peer out—and there was Nicholas, standing below.

“Come down,” he called up in a stage whisper.

Her eyes widened. What a terrible idea.

“Come down,” he whispered again. Worried that someone would hear, she decided to go down and send him on his way. She closed the window, pulled on a wrapper, and crept downstairs. Once in the garden, she didn't at first see anyone. And then he stepped out from behind a tree.

Moonlight glinted on something he was holding. A bottle.

She moved closer so he could hear her whisper. “You shouldn't be here. Go back to Greenbrier and we'll talk tomorrow.”

“Josie, dear girl,” he said fulsomely. “Come and have a tot of brandy.”

“Brandy?” He seemed to have had quite a lot already.

He laughed. “I know it's not the kind of thing young ladies drink.”