Josephine recalled the long, thin scars on Huntingly’s chest and shivered. Weren’t they just the sort of injuries that might befall someone in a swordfight?
‘Not unusual for Rome, of course, except Huntingly was also travelling through the south of the country around the same time…’ The captain glanced at Dr Kapoor. ‘Anyway, there was never any evidence he was responsible, or even near the location of the fight,’ he finished with a shrug. ‘As I understand it, Huntingly went on to travel for a few more months before returning to England earlier this year. That’s all I know.’
Josephine drew a breath as Phoebe closed her eyes. ‘If there were no charges, there can’t have been any evidence,’ she offered logically, ‘which means Lord Huntingly must be innocent.’ She looked around the table. ‘Thomas must have arranged the match knowing the same, and when I spoke with him, he was insistent Matilda would marry before her season even began. I know Matilda, and this knowledge would have forced her to run away or something equally as desperate, so really thereisno plan to be fathomed… I will wed Lord Huntingly, Matilda will get more time, and there is nothing anyone can say or do to change it.’
ChapterSix
Ebcott Place; Shadows and Tales
Midnight
The silence was thick and foreboding, immobilising Josephine in her bed, as moonlight pooled on her bedchamber floor. She listened intently, yet it wasn’t so much that she’d heard something, as she could justfeelsomething was wrong.
Frowning, she pulled on her dressing gown, and padded softly towards the door before inching it open. The corridor was gloomy, and all seemed quiet until she caught a whisper of voices from the direction of Phoebe’s bedchamber. And then she knew.
Without hesitating, she flew down the corridor, only slowing as she turned the corner and nearly collided with the viscount. He was pacing outside her sister’s door, while his brother reclined on the hall settle in his nightgown, half-asleep. It was such a comical, unexpected sight that, at any other time, she would have laughed, but one glimpse of her brother-in-law’s pale face was enough to silence her.
‘Phoebe?’ she croaked, ignoring the sudden pounding in her ears. She’d always been the ailing one with Phoebe her faithful nurse– she’d never known her robust older sister to experience a day’s ill health in her life.
‘Josephine,’ the viscount exhaled, his whole appearance so uncharacteristically dishevelled that for a moment he reminded her of Rotherby, Sophie’s husband.
She caught a breath as he took her hands, his dark eyes clouding with a fear he was clearly trying to hide.
‘The child has begun early, Jo.’ He smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘And I thank the heavens above she is in the care of Dr Kapoor. He is with her now, as is her monthly nurse, and while she is in some pain she is making good progress.’
He broke off to run his hand through his hair, as a soft moan reached through the bedchamber door.
‘Though it is damnably hard to listen to,’ he added, with a sidelong glance at his snoring brother, ‘for some of us.’
Captain Damerel snorted then, as though to add insult to injury, yet Josephine’s thoughts couldn’t be further from sleeping.
She stared, guilt bleeding through her like a gathering tide. Had her confession at dinner started this? She was sure Phoebe had said there were another two weeks before her time, yet she’d looked so drawn at the table. She would never forgive herself if the child’s delivery was affected by her confessions. Briefly, she closed her eyes, trying to ease the barrage of thoughts competing for attention, yet she knew exactly what she needed to do too. ‘I’ll go to her,’ she reassured in a low voice, much like the one Phoebe had always reserved for herself. ‘She will be easier if one of us is there.’
She didn’t mean herself or Alexander, but herself or one of her sisters. Despite the passage of time, and Phoebe’s undisputed love for her husband, there was no doubt in Josephine’s mind that she would need one of her sisters more than anyone else at this time.
The viscount exhaled in clear relief. ‘Will you? I’m not sure if you should, but she will want one of you there, I know… I’d go in myself but I know it’s not the damned done thing…’ He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair again. ‘Perhaps I should, anyway?’
Josephine pressed his hand reassuringly, just as the door opened to reveal Dr Kapoor still in his evening wear, though his jacket had been discarded and he’d rolled up his crisp white sleeves. Not for the first time, she noticed the natural air of authority he exuded in a crisis and felt comforted.
‘The infant was breeched, but the cephalic version appears to have worked which is encouraging.’ He nodded in his calm way. ‘I’d still like to request permission to use a little ergot ofryeto help the viscountess, if you will permit me? As it transpires, she’s been experiencing some mild birthing pains for the better part of the last two days, but says she did not wish to trouble anyone…’
At this the viscount groaned. ‘Isn’t that just like my wife? Of course, please do everything in your power to help her! I believe Miss Josephine will also bring her comfort and… if there is anything I can do… anything at all?’
‘Miss Fairfax’s presence will be most comforting to her sister,’ Dr Kapoor agreed soothingly. ‘As yours would too, sir, if you are so inclined? I am not typical of my profession, as you know, and consider the presence of a supportive husband to be beneficial to both mother and child– though I must warn you that birthing pains, while natural, can be difficult to watch.’
As if to accentuate his point, another guttural groan reached through the doorway at precisely that moment. It was all the invitation Josephine needed, and pressing the viscount’s hands one last time, she slipped through the door and into the candlelit bedchamber.
The room was warm and dark, yet light enough to see her sister wasn’t on the birthing bed she’d been gifted by Sophie, but in her own bed. She hesitated as she gazed across at her sister’s agitated form, surrounded by a swathe of fresh linen, while her monthly nurse, an experienced woman from the village, bathed her brow. Then Phoebe groaned again and, without another thought, Josephine rushed to her side.
‘Jo… thank goodness!’ Phoebe panted in short breaths. ‘I have… no… idea how Mama did it… more than… once! For I am… certain this will be our first and last… whether through choice or not,’ she added before breaking off to groan in a way that reached through Josephine’s bones.
Josephine smiled, though her sister’s pained and drawn face was shocking. Mama used to say Phoebe had the constitution of an ox,yet all she could see now were her pale and thin arms amid the swirl of birthing sheets. How had she been so wrapped up in her own problems that she’d failed to notice she was in pain?
‘Such talk,’ she scolded lovingly, though her stomach was churning. ‘I distinctly recall someone not so far from me claiming there was nothing a Fairfax could not do! In fact, I believe that anyone who can duel a highwayman with a theatrical épée is more than equal to bringing a new human into the world, isn’t that right, Alexander?’
She looked in relief at her brother-in-law who’d taken Dr Kapoor at his word and followed Josephine into the bedchamber.
‘It is!’ The viscount smiled, the furrow between his eyes saying everything he wasn’t, as he made his way to Phoebe’s other side. ‘Not forgetting the courageous young lady who jumped into a canal in full evening dress to rescue her sister,’ he added, dropping a tender kiss on his wife’s forehead.
