Page 459 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Six

At dinner, Josephine was seated between Nicholas and Miss Lydia Roberts. Lydia prattled on about inane gossip and Jo nodded as she covertly watched Lord Wylst at the far end of the table near Lord Allaway. Josephine’s mother hadn’t interact with the baron and gave no indication she was discomfited. Josephine picked at her food while she seethed. How could her mother laugh with her husband while her lover sat only a few seats down the table from them?

“Are you ill, Lady Josephine?”

She jumped at the sound of Nick’s voice. “I am fine. Why do you ask?

“You’re picking at your food, instead of eating it.”

“Oh,” she said. “I was lost in thought.” She took a bite and realized it was fish, which she detested. But she smiled and chewed as if it was delicious.

His brows rose. “I thought you didn’t care for fish.”

“If you knew I didn’t care for fish, why were you surprised I wasn’t eating it?” she demanded under her breath.

He nodded toward the plate. “You do love pheasant.”

She looked at her plate and saw that she had pushed the meat nearly off her plate. Her heart fell. How would she get through the remaining ten days of the party without giving away her feelings toward her mother or Lord Wylst?

Dinner ended and Lord Allaway suggested the ladies retire to the grand parlor while the men had brandy and wine. The men stood as the ladies rose and left the table. Since learning the truth about her mother’s infidelity, Josephine had often wondered if her mother had lied about other things as well. But seeing her stroll past her lover as if he were a total stranger, Josephine wondered not if her mother had lied, but what she had lied about over the years?

The desire to run away and hide in one of her father’s smaller estates in the northern Highlands rose as it had a hundred times since this nightmare began. Josephine released a quiet breath and fell back farther in the rear of the ladies’ procession, which was filing through the door in the far corner near the balcony. Running away would only leave her family at the mercy of Lord Wylst. That she would not do. Josephine gazed out the balcony doors into the gardens beyond as she neared. However, she could run away for an hour or so.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Nick engrossed in conversation with Lord Allaway. The ladies ahead of her chatted with one another, oblivious to her. She seized the opportunity and ducked through the balcony doors, then hurried down the steps. After a few paces, rhododendrons, azaleas, magnolias, embrothriums and camellias enveloped her in a sea of color that brought the first smile she’d experienced since learning she was to attend the party.

Jo slowed her walk along the stone path and passed beneath a small arched bridge to the center of the gardens where a bench was located beside a round stone pond. She sat down and took a deep breath of the early evening air. The sun hung low in the horizon. Daylight would last another forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes of peace...of freedom. It was more than she had enjoyed since Lord Wylst entered her life a month ago—more than she had hoped for since Nicholas returned. Josephine closed her eyes at the pang that squeezed her heart. Six years he’d been gone. But it seemed like yesterday that he’d taken her hand in his and told her he was leaving.

Her heart broke twice that day, for she knew her father had refused his offer of marriage. She must have cursed Nicholas a thousand times for offering for her. Though his kiss had haunted her, she could have convinced herself the emotions were a girl’s fantasies—if not for that damned marriage proposal. His asking for hand in marriage had given life to her feelings. Then he’d allowed his father to send him away, leaving behind promises she knew he would never keep.

Josephine bowed her head and finally gave in to the tears that had fought to be freed the moment she’d laid eyes on him a month ago.

Why did you return, Nick?

“Lovely evening, is it not?”

Josephine jerked her head up at hearing the familiar voice.

Lord Wylst stood on the path beyond the hedges that lined the manicured lawn around the circular pond.

Jo swiped at her cheeks and resisted the urge to jump to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited, like you.”

“That is a fine coincidence,” she snapped. “It is more likely you are here to harass me.”

He rounded the pool, then stopped in front of her. “You are not happy to see me, my dear?”

Perhaps rising was a good idea after all—leaving was even a better idea. She rose and started past him. He stepped in her way.

Josephine lifted her gaze to his face. Only the rim of the sun remained over the horizon, but she could still discern his smirk. “Step aside, sir.”

“We need to talk.”

“So that you can extract more money from me? Have a care, sir. If you push me too far, you will get nothing.”

“If I get nothing, I expose you.”

“I imagine you will not want to lose your newly found place in society.” Or the newly found place in my mother’s bed, she silently added.