Josephine’s own heart had skipped a beat at seeing him for the first time, atop a horse in the park. Hard not to be impressed with all that…magnificence.
“You’ll need an introduction.” Willa nodded. “I can ask my mother, of course. She knows everyone, though she disapproves of you.” Her nose wrinkled. “And the duke.”
“Goodness. Still? Because of Monsieur Pépé?” Josephine eyed her friend.
“You forget that he was also Isaiah’s fencing instructor.”
Isaiah was Willa’s brother.
“Monsieur Pépé was most distressed over the incident,” Willa said. “I tried to tell you fencing was not…a skill you should acquire given your…exuberance. As you can imagine, Mother was less than pleased as she holds him in high esteem.”
“How unfortunate.”
Willahadtried to talk Josephine out of fencing lessons, but in her pursuit of becoming capable and given her natural athletic ability, she’d ignored her friend’s advice. The lessons, of which Josephine had received only one, had come to an abrupt halt when she had uttered, ‘en garde’, and promptly caught a heel in her skirts. Her weapon had slashed through the air as she’d attempted to steady herself, nearly decapitating Monsieur Pépé.
“But…” Willa sat up straighter. “I have met Lavisham several times.”
“You have?” This was a stroke of good luck.
“Yes, but we didn’t really speak outside of pleasantries. I’m not even sure he’d recall me. Our interactions were brief, though I suppose it is worth a try. Mother will wonder why you want an introduction to Lavisham, which could be problematic. Could you…send him a note, perhaps? Explain the circumstances of your father’s request?”
“I have. Two, actually.” Lady Brighton, Willa’s mother, would certainly not have approved.
Willa’s eyes widened. “Oh. How bold of you.”
“Not bold at all. I merely explained to Lavisham in my note that I must speak to him on a matter of great urgency and sought a meeting in the park. The bench closest to the Serpentine beneath the maple tree.”
Josephine failed to add that she hadn’t signed either note, terrified that her correspondence with one of London’s most questionable gentlemen might be discovered. Instead, she’d sprayed a bit of her favorite scent on the page, hoping Lavisham would be intrigued enough to respond. He was a rogue, after all.
“He ignored both requests for a meeting,” Josephine admitted. “I waited on the bench for hours.”
Her friend nodded. “Have you considered that perhaps he no longer has the brooch? There is a good chance he’s sold it or given it to a…lady friend.”
“Much too ugly. No woman alive would wear such a piece,” Josephine said with certainty. “And even if Lavisham has rid himself of the brooch, he could tell me where it is now. He is my only hope in receiving my inheritance and I will not be the only Harrington to fail. Can you find out what events Lavisham will be attending in the next week?” Josephine asked. Willa and her family were extremely well-connected. Her parents were invited everywhere.
“Of course I can. Lady Randall is having a garden party next week, and I’m positive Lavisham will be there. He andLady Randall were once…close acquaintances, according to my mother. I’ll insist you accompany me.” Willa nodded in agreement. “I will make the introduction. We won’t even involve Mother. A trifle forward of me, but as I said, I’ve met Lavisham before.”
“Perfect.” Josephine sat beside her friend and took Willa’s hand. “With your help, the matter will be resolved in no time, and I’ll soon have the brooch.”
Chapter Two
“Ido not think this is a good idea. In fact, I think it disastrous.”
Josphine squinted at Willa, trying to make out her features in the darkness of the hack. Willa never thought anything Josephine suggested was wise, but to be fair to her friend, she was almost always correct. Tonight’s adventure was likely a poor decision, but there were few alternatives.
“Lavisham has left me little choice. He ignored both my notes. And…” Josephine paused. “He ignored me at Lady Randall’s garden party.” The entire affair had been horribly embarrassing.
Josephine had dressed for the occasion, in a stunning gown of bright pink, with roses decorating the brim of her bonnet andaround her waist. She’d followed Lady Brighton’s instructions to the letter which involved Josephine behaving in a modest, appropriate manner. When Willa had pointed out Lavisham, standing in the midst of Lady Randall’s garden with the breeze ruffling his hair?—
So splendid.
—Josephine had set out in his direction, with her friend trailing behind. She’d felt confident. Brave. The very definition of capable. Until a gorgeous young lady clad in seafoam green had stepped in front of Josephine only an arm’s length from Lavisham. Miss Alise Runyon wasn’t as big as Josphine, but she was far more determined to get to the duke. An elbow to the stomach and a slipper heel dug into her toe, and Josephine had lost her balance. She’d fallen into a bed of hyacinth, crushing the fragile stems beneath her. The only time Lavisham even glanced in her direction was when a stern-faced Lady Randall had discreetly suggested Josephine vacate the premises. Most embarrassing.
“That was not my fault. Lady Randall overreacted,” Josephine insisted.
“You attempted to attack him in the park.”
“I did not. I only waved at him.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have used her parasol—the ribbons at the end had startled his horse, who frankly, should have been better trained and less skittish. Before Josephine had even been able to speak to Lavisham, the horse had sprinted off while the duke cursed and threw her a narrow, annoyed look before regaining control.
