7 o’clock
It was less than a half-hour carriage ride to the Davenport’s country residence, though Josephine’s siblings managed to make it feel twice as long. She sighed. Things hadn’t much changed in five years, and she had even less leg room than ever, but at least they were amphibian-free for the journey across the village.
‘I still don’t see why Fred gets to go in Thomas’s stylish phaeton withSir Dashingwhen we are cramped in like Cook’s sardines!’ Matilda grumbled, swatting away Henry’s attempt to open the sash window.
‘It’s Sir FrancisDashton, Matty, as you well know,’ Josephine reprimanded, ignoring Edward’s smirk, ‘and it’s very understandable– they’re friends.’
‘Well, I’ve no desire to arrive looking crumpledandwindblown,’ Matilda remonstrated, glaring at Henry who’d managed to inch down the window and was now pretending to gasp like a goldfish. ‘The Davenports have a new dress every time one of them so much as opens their mouth to sing.’
‘Yes, and that’s far too often,’ he scowled. ‘They all sound like drowning cats! And Sir Dashing isfar too sophisticatedto travel with the Fairfax milieu, don’t you know… he might catch some devilish Devon plague!’
Matilda and Edward started to laugh, while Harriet, who’d been sent as chaperone in Thomas’s place, frowned at them all. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d imagine you were all still in the nursery,’ she admonished from her quiet corner of the coach.
‘And really, Sir Francis has been nothing but kind and sincere to us all,’ Josephine added, ‘so we might do well to afford him some respect.’
‘Perhaps more than a few others anyway,’ Edward murmured drily, eyeing his sister. ‘And I do believe we have arrived!’
Josephine sighed as the coach trundled to a standstill outside the Davenport residence, comprising a rambling Georgian house and long glass orangery, Sir Davenport’s pride and joy.
‘Good luck, gentlemen!’ Henry saluted dramatically as they climbed out. ‘If we’re not all hitched to a wailing Davenport before the evening is done, I’ll eat my new crav?—’
‘Henry!’ Fred warned, from the phaeton which had drawn up behind them.
His younger brother grinned and swept a mischievous bow before proffering his arm to Matilda, while Sir Francis jumped down beside Fred. Josephine blinked. In the dusk, he looked even more of a fallen-to-earth Olympian; his bronzed skin was aglow in the half-light, while his stature and presence put her in mind of a combatant in the ancient Greek games. Briefly, she pictured him with a crown of laurel set upon his golden head, as his sea-spray eyes searched for hers among the cheering crowd and… She blinked again– she really had to cease daydreaming now she was betrothed.
‘Might I say how delightful you look this evening, Miss Josephine.’ Sir Francis bowed with his straight-from-an-oyster-shell smile. ‘Like a veritable Ophelia!’
‘You are too kind, Sir Francis,’ Josephine protested, pushing her spectacles back up her nose. ‘Though, in truth, she did meet more of a watery end than I would care for.’
‘Yes, an excellent point,’ Sir Francis acknowledged. ‘Perhaps Hermia would be more apt? I’ve often thought there’s something of the forest nymph about you.’ He proffered his arm. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Fairfax?’
Fred shrugged his indifference as Josephine mumbled something unintelligible, and then they all made their way inside.
* * *
Miss Venetia Davenport performed two arias in a row, and was clearly prepared for a third, before her fiercely smiling mother propelled her from the piano. ‘For fear there will be no time for other young ladies, dearest!’ One of the equally fierce sisters then proceeded to perform a minuet with more flats than Josephine knew existed, before sinking into a curtsey that Matilda termed ‘entirely attention-seeking’.
‘I must admit to looking forward to your performance, Miss Fairfax,’ Sir Francis murmured from her other side. ‘For I hear you are quite the talent.’
Josephine murmured her second, unintelligible response of the evening, before shrinking back into her seat. While she could play the harp proficiently, she’d always suspected any compliment was given in relief by those who discovered there was one thing she could actually do tolerably well. Yet she was no willing performer and quite aware she had none of Phoebe’s wit, Sophie’s beauty or Matilda’s charm to sustain her should things go awry.
‘Oh, Lord, they don’t expect me to croak something out, do they?’ Matilda whispered in a mortified tone. ‘I haven’t practised in an age!’
Josephine tried to smile reassuringly, though she knew exactly how her sister felt. Not only were three of their unforgiving brothers present, it seemed Lady Davenport had seen fit to invite half of Knightswood’s gentry to the gathering: perhaps the weight of five unmarried daughters was beginning to tell.
‘You’ll have to performforme, Jo,’ she added urgently. ‘Unless you want me to stand up there and belt out three rounds of “Roy’s Wife”?’
‘Matilda!’ Josephine hushed in a pained tone. ‘This is not the place for Bertie Briggs’s inappropriate ditties. How do you know such a thing, anyway?’
‘It wasn’t intentional,’ she protested. ‘He was humming it at the chicken race and it just kind of got… stuck.’
And whether it was the guilt in her voice, or the pressure of a looming performance, her whisper wobbled, and Josephine could no longer look at her. Her gaze watered as she stared at another wailing Davenport, trying not to give in to the rise of irrational laughter. It was just like Matilda to pick up an entirely inappropriate ditty without trying, and entirely probable she would stand up and sing it too. Then a flurry of movement on the opposite side of the Davenports’ drawing room distracted them both. A footman was trying to be discreet. The edges of the room were in shadow, but there was no mistaking the newcomer’s imposing silhouette.
‘Huntingly,’ she whispered to Matilda, who raised her eyebrows.
‘Thought it was unusually decent of Thomas to entertain him at Knightswood,’ she muttered.
Josephine swallowed. Despite Edward’s sighting that morning, she’d not seen Huntingly all day, and assumed he and Thomas had decided to keep company this evening. Yet she might have known her eldest brother would foist his responsibility elsewhere.
