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Chapter Eleven
Lady Josephine did not go to Ace’s room again. The surgeon had announced he meant to wean him off the laudanum. He added that the patient would be far less restless, and would no doubt sleep much better at night, if he got up and began to resume his daily duties.
She could have gone to his room anyway; part of her just wanted him to know how she felt, even if he rejected her for it. Still, she lived in fear, not of scandal, but that such scandal might lead her lord father to send Ace away. Then what would she do? She would probably never see him again! And she could not live without him in her life.
It was not that she had any problem staying busy. Ace had been quite right when he scoffed that her days were full of tea parties and balls. There was her upcoming presentation to the Prince Regent at Court, and all the socializing that would accompany that event. Each morning was a whirl of dress and headdress fittings, of choosing shoes, gloves, and other expensive accessories. But busy or not, Lady Josephine’s heart was just not in it.
What was more, she found she was lacking her usual energy and stamina. Perhaps she was depressed at the dreary prospect of marrying the Earl.
Perhaps the weeks of staying at Ace’s bedside with little sleep had finally caught up with her—even though she now was staying away.
Perhaps I just miss seeing him every night. I can think of nothing other than how his body felt, sleeping next to me.
The Dowager Countess, by contrast, was taking the Court presentation very seriously. For her, this was her chief opportunity to demonstrate to royalty the caliber of young lady her son could command as a bride. Many of those in attendance would not be regular participants in the London Season—they were too grand, or too old, to frequent the balls given by theton.So it was critical that Lady Josephine look her best when she met the very cream of aristocratic society.
They were in Lady Josephine’s boudoir one morning. She was trying on the fifteenth or twentieth Court presentation gown of the day. The room was overheated; the old-fashioned panniered dresses and their supporting undergarments were hard to put on and take off. Lady Josephine had been yawning all morning.
“Whatever is the matter with you?” the Dowager Countess snapped at her. “Spoiled girl! Look alive, please, or the Prince and his Court will think something serious is amiss with you!”
Ducky jumped to her mistress’ defense. “My lady, Lady Josephine has been sleeping poorly lately, and it is very warm in here.”
“Don’t make excuses for her, you foolish old woman,” barked the Dowager Countess. “I begin to see why the girl’s so lacking in stamina, mollycoddled by servants like you since her childhood.”
The Parisian dress designer, a brave woman, said, “Perhaps Lady Josephine might want to rest for a few minutes. I can have a couple of my mannequins model the next several gowns for her.”
“No. We will keep going,” the Dowager Countess said.
“Actually, I think that is a good idea, Madame,” Lady Josephine countered. “I would like to rest a little while.”
“Apparently, Lady Josephine, you care very little about how this Court presentation goes!” said the Dowager Countess, working herself up into a rage. “I am personally going to a great deal of trouble to see you properly launched before the royal family. And this is the thanks I get!”
“As I recall,” replied Lady Josephine tartly, “it was you who insisted on sponsoring me. Grateful as I may now be, it was not a favor I wanted to accept. Believe me, my lord father’s rank and relationship with the Prince Regent would have ensured me a proper reception at Court, even without your interference.”
The Dowager Countess’ face was white with anger. Ducky looked as if she might swoon with fear. Madame and her various mannequins suddenly busied themselves with small tasks and pretended they had heard nothing.
“Lady Josephine, you had better learn to be subservient in this marriage, or I will personally do all I can to make life very hard for you. You are but a young girl. I am in charge of Worthington Hall, and I will continue to be in charge. If you think you can win against me, think again. At the end of the day, if I’m dissatisfied with you, I will turn the matter over to my son. He will make you wish you had never been born.
“I have nothing further to say to you, Lady Josephine—other than that I shall be speaking with my son about your behavior.” With that dramatic threat made, she exited the room.
* * *
The Earl had a particularly frightening way of showing his anger. Whereas other men Lady Josephine had known, like her own lord father, would show their occasional bursts of temper by raising their voices and roaring, the Earl did the opposite. The angrier he became, the icier and calmer his voice. It sent chills down Lady Josephine’s spine.
That afternoon, Lady Josephine was reading a book in the library. It was a favorite hideaway of hers. Miss Duckworth sat near her, quietly stitching some needlepoint.
The family was to be “at home” to visitors that afternoon, and Lady Josephine dreaded the likelihood of her encountering the Dowager Countess again, so soon after their argument. So she took refuge in the library. She would receive any guests at the last possible minute.Surely, if other guests are present, the Dowager Countess will not dare make a scene in front of them?
The Earl entered. “Leave us,” he ordered Miss Duckworth. She curtsied and slipped silently out of the room.
The Earl took his time in seating himself. “I hear,” he said quietly, “that you gravely insulted my mother this morning. It won’t do, Josephine—I won’t permit it.”
“I did not insult her,” Lady Josephine said hotly. “She is attempting to completely control this Court presentation—what I wear and what my demeanor will be. She has no right to tell me what to do. I am not her daughter.”
“Indeed, you are not,” said the Earl. “My sisters’ behavior is far better than yours—they are a credit to our lady mother. Whereas if you were her daughter, you would be an embarrassment to her—a spoiled child, badly raised.
“And while you cannot yet claim family rights equal to those of my sisters,” said the Earl—and there was the hint of a threat in his voice—“I would advise you to make a friend of my mother, if you possibly still can. For, after we wed, I will take ship to foreign countries in His Majesty’s service. And, in my absence, my lady mother will continue to run Worthington Hall for me. You will be entirely dependent on her kindness and entirely subject to her rules.”
“Is it not traditional that a widowed aristocrat would move to a dower house somewhere on the grounds and leave the running of the main house to her son’s wife once he marries?” Lady Josephine was surprised to hear she would be obliged to live under her mother-in-law’s thumb after marriage.
