Josephine looked up as Baroness Aurelia di Caserta and Miss Amelia Carlisle paused to greet them and couldn’t help but stare. They had identical doll-like eyes, dark lashes, creamy skin, bow lips and small, distinctive chins. Little wonder she’d been so mesmerised at the Davenports’ soiree: Amelia was a smaller, softer version of her older sister.
‘Oh goodness, how on earth should I know, Miss Hampton?’ Aurelia tittered. ‘It’s quite exhausting enough to recall their particular requirements, let alone the months since they ruined one’s body for all perpetuity. I didn’t know you were still in town though, Miss Fairfax?’ she asked in her next breath, turning to Josephine with her old gleaming smile. ‘I thought you’d had quite enough of polite company, and abandoned us for the wilds and your books?’
‘Oh no, not at all, dear sister!’ Amelia intervened. ‘For I had the good fortune to cross social paths with Miss Fairfax in Devon and, not only is her musical talent second to none, but we shared the most wonderful tête-à-tête, did we not, Miss Fairfax? How lovely to see you again,’ she added demurely.
‘Ah, I do detect a secret!’ Isabella smiled delightedly. ‘Pray do tell, Miss Amelia, for there’s nothing I like so much as a secret…’
Josephine stilled, a wave of sudden realisation drowning out the delightful closing steps of the minuet. If she wasn’t much mistaken, both Isabella and Amelia were harbouring exactly the same secret about Sir Francis Dashton, and she had no wish to be party to any conflicting declarations– especially when the gentleman in question was not here to clarify matters.
‘Oh, I really cannot be pressed!’ Amelia inhaled dramatically, clutching the pearls affixed to her lemon bodice. ‘Miss Fairfax is a wonderful friend, and I know she will be loyal until the world is a kinder place to young love…’
‘I knew it!’ Isabella exclaimed. ‘I can see the look of love in your eyes– for I mayknow a little of its torment myself.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper, ‘Tell us, Miss Amelia, is it adesperately romanticlove or aforbidden parentallove or…’ Isabella’s eyes grew rounder as she tried to think of all the possible permutations of love that society frowned upon.
‘Touching though this display of sentimentality is,’ Aurelia interjected drily, ‘I would urge you both to remember that most types ofloveare highly impractical when it comes to marriage– indeed, I have found a good circle, better cook and formidable modiste have served me far better.’
‘All I will say is that the gentleman in question isbeyondfault andquiteremarkable in every way,’ Miss Amelia offered as though Aurelia had never spoken at all. ‘In fact, we share asecret love poemthat?—’
‘Youmust not sharefor fear he will be identifiable,’ Josephine finished swiftly. ‘And I believe I’ve just seen your papa, Isabella. Do excuse us,’ she added, curtseying to the Carlisle sisters. ‘We were looking for Lord Hampton before this delightful conversation, and I simply must not put off speaking with him any longer– Isabella?’
Without waiting for a response, Josephine grasped Isabella’s hand and pulled her around the ballroom, weaving her way around groups of chattering ladies and gentlemen, until she reached the doorway through which Lord Hampton had disappeared.
‘Really, Josephine!’ Isabella panted, fighting for breath in her tight-fitting corset. ‘There is no urgency to thank Papa, forhe will be in the card room for the rest of the evening. And I have so little opportunity to talk with anyone aboutanything,’ she added woefully.
‘That may be,’ Josephine replied in a low tone, ‘but nothing is undone faster than a love secret, and I presume you do not wish yourunderstandingto be affected?’
‘Oh!’ Isabella replied, her eyes as round as her jonquil bell skirt.
‘Exactly,’ Josephine affirmed. ‘And now your papa is coming over… Good evening, Lord Hampton!’ she called with far greater confidence than she felt, as a silver-haired gentlemen in military dress approached them.
‘Good evening, young ladies.’ He smiled. ‘And what brings you to the card room? Unless you have a desire to make up a four with myself and the colonel?’ he chortled in a way that made his waistcoat strain alarmingly.
‘No, Papa…’ Isabella began, looking anxious.
‘That would be wonderful, thank you,’ Josephine accepted instantly. ‘I have only a rudimentary skill, and would so enjoy a game with more experienced players.’
‘But Josephine?’ Isabella entreated, startled by her friend’s sudden desire to sit in a room of portly older gentlemen and cigar smoke, when there was dancing and gossip to be had next door.
Yet Josephine was already halfway to the table, looking more determined than ever.
‘I trust you young ladies are looking forward to the supper?’ Lord Hampton asked congenially as the game got underway. ‘I am particularly fond of Shrewsbury cake and baked custard myself, though you mustn’t mention it to Lady Hampton, for she thinks I am rathertoopartial, you see.’
He winked and patted his stomach as Isabella rolled her eyes.
‘Your secret is safe with me, my lord,’ Josephine reassured, taking another card, ‘though it does make me wonder how you developed such a sweet tooth? For you have led a military life, have you not?’
She smiled innocently, though her mind was turning over how to ask about Huntingly without raising suspicion.
‘I have,’ he replied, ‘though I’m retired now, and determined to make up for lost time, for there were few baked custards in France. We were lucky to have our bread of maslin and some bacon, though it all washed down well enough with the right wine.’
At this, he turned to his elderly friend and chortled again.
‘And do you recall many details from your time in France, sir, such as… the soldiers in your brigade, perhaps?’
‘But of course, Miss Fairfax,’ he assured. ‘We were soldiers of occupation following Waterloo, and once Louis XVIII was back life was easier than before, but I still prided myself on being able to address every single one of my officers by name, as well as their concerns. It was part of my role as General.’
Josephine nodded as Isabella eyeballed her ferociously, wilting with boredom.
‘And what of the gentlemen soldiers who’d been injured? Did they remain with you in occupation?’
