Josephine approached the newcomers with Michael following close behind.
“This is Lady Josephine, a dear friend of mine from the days of my debut,” Hannah laced her arm through hers and brought her forward. “Josephine, Lord and Lady Hartfield.”
“Call me Abigail, please,” the beautiful brunette said with a dazzling smile, extending her hand.
“And you must call me Colin. We don’t stand on ceremony among friends,” the hulking Viking said, not quite smiling, but his face softened enough to not look menacing. “And this little lady here is Emily, our daughter.”
The little girl was already kicking her legs and leaning toward the boys, eager to be put down so that she could join in their play, so her father obligingly crouched to place her carefully on the floor. Under the indulgent gaze of her papa, the little hoyden took off after the boys as fast as her short legs allowed.
Josephine was amazed at these people and the way they interacted with their children. Their obvious love, warmth, and ease with the little ones. In her experience, aristocrats rarely bothered with their offspring, leaving their care to nannies andnurses. At least that had been her upbringing. She could not remember one time her father had held her in his arms the way Lord Hartfield—Colin—had held his daughter.
“In that case, you must call me Josephine. And that little blond gentleman over there is my nephew, Edward.” Josephine pointed to where the boys were. “I believe Aycliffe needs no introduction,” she said, pointing to the man at her side.
“Indeed no. I’ve known Michael for nigh on thirty years. Our mothers were friends, and we were of an age.”
“Abigail and I used to get into all sorts of scrapes while her little brother tried to keep up with us. How’s John doing these days? Haven’t seen him in a while.”
“He’s well. Visited us last month. Always going somewhere, but he makes time for his niece whenever he’s in town. Emily has him wrapped around her little finger.”
At that moment a big crash interrupted the conversation and six adults jumped into motion at once. A big porcelain vase had tumbled from one of the side tables to smash in front of the three toddlers, who looked at it with varied expressions of glee, confusion, and distress.
Josephine’s heart jumped to her throat as she realized the cries came from Edward, whose face had crumpled. She ran toward him, fearing he had injured himself, but Michael was there first, lifting the child, assessing he was unhurt, and then cradling him to his chest, comforting him with soothing words.
“I’m so sorry,” Hannah said, leading her child by the hand. “Samuel has become a little terror to the porcelain ornaments. The first time might have been an accident. But I truly believe he now does it on purpose, for the sheer fun of seeing objects smashed to smithereens.”
“No harm done,” Josephine rushed to reassure her. Under Michael’s care, Edward was no longer crying. He was unhurt, probably just scared by the crash.
“Better we adjourn to the garden, where the little imps will have more space to run and fewer things to break,” Gabriel suggested.
In agreement, they all adjourned to the outdoors, but Michael didn’t set Edward down. The other two children were walking by their parents, but Michael kept holding Edward in much the same way Colin and Gabriel had held their children when they first entered the room. With ease, familiarity, and… caring.
It was a sight that caused twin pangs in her chest. On the one hand, it almost melted her heart to see him care for Edward. He would be a great father, and that quality called to every motherly instinct she thought she never had. On the other, it reminded her of the main reason why she couldn’t marry him.
When he had children of his own, he would be as loving and attentive as Colin and Gabriel. He deserved to be a father. More than that. He needed an heir. He was a duke and didn’t have any brothers to pass the title to. Michael needed a son. A real son of his blood. And she couldn’t give it to him.
And so, she must let him go.
“Youdon’tneedtotell us anything you are not comfortable sharing, of course,” Hannah said some time later as they sat at a table set under the shade of a tree in the magnificent gardens of the ducal mansion. “But I hope you realize both Abigail and I are the epitome of discretion, and we are perishing to know your story. You mentioned something about living in a harem?”
She nodded yes, realizing the time for revelations had arrived. Hannah had dismissed her warning about her scandalous reputation. But would she feel the same after learning thesordid details of her kidnapping? And what about Abigail? What would she think of her? It was strange, but up until yesterday, she thought she didn’t care about the opinion of society. And she didn’t, in a general sense. But after conversing with these ladies for the better part of an hour, she found that she liked them immensely, and she cared what they thought of her. She didn’t want to disappoint her new friends. She looked down at her hands, which were pleating the folds of her skirt, suddenly wishing Michael was here by her side. He would give her courage just by being present. But he had left with the other gentlemen to play billiards about half an hour ago. The kids played not far from them, being watched over by two nursemaids. She had nothing and no one to hide behind.
“The story that circulated among society was that I eloped with a foreign prince. But I swear that was not what happened. The truth was, I was kidnapped from my home.” That elicited simultaneous gasps and expressions of horror and commiseration from her new friends. Hannah’s hand had come up to her neck while Abigail’s eyes were as round as saucers, her hands fisted on her own skirts. But she didn’t see condemnation. Only absolute shock at her revelation.
“My brother owed a big sum in gambling debts to the Pasha of Suez. He had no way of repaying them. The pasha saw me and wanted me, so he accepted a trade. Me, in exchange for the debt. My brother was only too happy to get rid of his troublesome little sister and his gambling debts in one fell swoop. So he facilitated my kidnapping and even put out the story I had eloped to ensure no one would come for me.”
“Josephine, that is horrendous.” Hannah leaned over and squeezed her hand.
“How did you survive? What has your life been like?” This from Abigail.
She lowered her gaze. It would be impossible to tell these gently bred ladies all the humiliations and degradation she had suffered at the hands of the pasha. She wasn’t sure she could bear to talk about that with anyone. But she could give them a general idea of her life. She knew harems were a source of fascination and titillation to the English people, their reclusiveness and mystery only adding to their allure.
“Harems are not a terrible place. At least, they are not meant to be. They are designed for the women’s comfort and protection. The palace of the pasha was very grand, and the women’s quarters were equally well appointed. We had luxury accommodations and were given expensive gifts according to how well we pleased our master. Once I… learned to submit, I didn’t lack for anything.” Anything except freedom. And dignity. And love. And belonging.
She didn’t say that, of course. But the other women seemed to understand what was left unsaid. They looked at her with so much compassion. Abigail even reached over to clasp her hand in a comforting squeeze. The simple gesture almost brought tears to her eyes. Never had she hoped for such acceptance among aristocratic ladies.
“We understand, dear. A gilded cage is still a cage, isn’t it? It’s a disgrace that, in these purportedly civilized times, women could be imprisoned, mistreated, and subjugated. Placed at the mercy of the men in their lives. If they are kind, she might fare well, but if they are evil…well.”
Abigail didn’t need to elaborate. If the men were evil, women could be subjected to all manner of atrocities. From being deprived of home and means of support, to physical abuse and having her freedom taken away. The passion in Abigail’s eyes made Josephine think she was familiar with male abuse. But surely not from her husband? Colin’s features may be austere,but there was no mistaking the adoration in his gaze when he looked at his wife and daughter.
