Page 75 of A Troublesome Circumstance

“I doubt that,” Josephine muttered.

“You don’t know unless you try.”

Josephine glanced at the long clock in the corner and saw that it was time to dress for dinner.

Pointing a finger at her brother, Josephine said, “This is low, even for you.”

Alexander only smiled. “You will thank me when you are happily married with a horde of children running about.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I would never marry Lord Pendryn. Not even if he were the last man on earth.”

Alexander’s grin widened. “I daresay you protest far too much.”

“Leave her be, Alexander,” their mother chided lightly.

Josephine turned sharply and swept down the hall towards her bedchamber. Once she arrived, she threw herself face-first onto her bed.

“This is going to be the worst night of my life,” she groaned into the coverlet.

Martha’s voice floated from the doorway. “What was that, my lady?”

“Nothing. Leave me. I wish to die here,” Josephine said miserably. “And after I die, I fully intend to haunt my brother.”

Martha stepped farther into the room. “Did something happen?”

Josephine sat up with a dramatic sigh. “Yes! Lord Pendryn is coming to dinner.”

“Do we hate him?” Martha asked at once. “Say the word, and I will hate him with my whole being.”

A reluctant laugh escaped Josephine. “No, I don’t hate him. But I cannot abide him at present.”

“Dare I ask what he has done to earn your ire?”

Josephine hesitated. She trusted Martha more than most, but even so… the truth sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud.

“Lord Pendryn made me believe he was the gamekeeper for the Duke of Ashmoore,” she admitted slowly.

Martha stared back at her. “The one who saved you from wandering the woods after the carriage accident?”

“Yes, the very same one.”

Martha made a sympathetic clicking noise with her tongue. “I see. And you discovered the truth last night at the ball?”

Josephine nodded. “I did. And I was mortified. How does one mistake an earl for a gamekeeper?”

“You had just suffered a traumatic ordeal,” Martha said matter-of-factly. “Abducted by Mr. Broderick, a carriage accident… anyone would be unsettled.”

“I should have known.”

Martha moved to sit beside her. “It sounds romantic, if you ask me. A humble gamekeeper saves a young woman from certain doom, only to reveal he’s truly a rich, powerful earl.”

“It was hardly romantic,” Josephine declared.

“But you can see how it could be.” Martha grinned. “Every young lady wants to be saved by an earl.”

“Not me.”

“Well,” Martha said, rising briskly, “whether you wish it or not, we must dress you or you will be late.”