Their eyes widened. “Surely you jest.”
She leaned forward. “It’s a wild island, unfettered from the bonds of society. Lawless, you might say.”
One of the girls started to fan herself and the others looked away from Josephine, finding a sudden interest in their empty teacups.
“What are we all discussing over here?” Mrs. Crompton sat and began pouring everyone’s tea.
One of the girls snickered. “Josephine was telling us how… interesting her island is.”
A lump formed in her throat. What had she said wrong?
The conversation turned to the weather and the latest fashion prints.
Louisa held something out. “Sugar?”
She stared at the little bowl with its elegant silver tongs. She never drank anything in her tea or coffee. After everyone gave her expectant looks, she deposited one lump into her cup. Louisa didn’t move the bowl and Josephine glanced around the room.Oh, for heaven’s sake. She took another cube.
The sugar went round the room, each lady taking her portion, and soon the delicate tinkle of spoons on glass filled the air. Josephine lifted her cup and took a swallow, nearly gagging at the syrupy taste. Abigailgave a discreet cough and raised her cup, her fingers poised lightly on the handle. Josephine dropped her gaze to where her hand wrapped around the cup and sighed, moving her fingers to barely hold the handle. Her next sip nearly sent the cup tumbling from her grasp. How silly to hold something like that.
A servant carried in a tray of petite cakes and bite-sized pastries. She took one with a dollop of fruit spread on top and popped it in her mouth. “This is lovely.”
Several of the girls smirked, then made a show of taking dainty bites from their selections. Josephine fought the urge to roll her eyes. Why fashion something so small if not to be eaten in one bite?
Time crawled by, the room bathed in insufferable heat. Josephine shifted back and forth in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Oh, how she longed for the airy freedom of her skirt and blouse. Remarkably, none of the other girls showed any signs of discomfort. When the twins suggested they all go stretch their legs in the garden room, she nearly leaped from her seat. But Abigail stayed put as the girls filed from the room.
Mrs. Crompton noticed her longing glance after them. “Miss Montclair, why don’t you join the others while I catch up with dear Abigail.”
Josephine smiled and stood, her napkin dropping from her lap. With an apologetic smile, she picked it up and placed it on the chair, sending a silent thanks that the other girls weren’t there to see her make yet another mistake.
In the hall, she hesitated at the double doors leading to the garden room. So far, every move had felt like a blunder, pushing the girls to dislike her. This moment offered her an opportunity to show them she could belong. She pulled her shoulders back and cracked open the door. The young ladies stood in the center of the room, whispering amongst themselves.
“Did you see how she holds her teacup? Like a sailor clutching atankard.”
The girls tittered and Louisa leaned in. “Governor? I’m sure she was raised among pirates. To think, poor Mrs. Crompton probably has no idea what sort she let in.”
“Poor Mrs. Crompton? You mean poor Abigail? She’s the one who has to tote her around like a stray kitten.”
Heat pressed at Josephine’s eyes and she slowly backed away from the parlor door, letting it fall softly shut. She swallowed, looking behind her to where Abigail still sat with Mrs. Crompton. Suddenly, she didn’t want to pretend anymore. Her feet propelled her to the front door and she slipped outside without any notice. Once on the wide verandah, she took a deep breath of humid air.
Better.
She stood next to a wide column, facing the square. The children had left, leaving the green grass quiet and bare. A massive oak tree stretched its long branches over a bench, leaving shifting patterns of light and shade. With a quick glance at the closed doors behind her, she started down the steps. Once in the square, she sank onto a bench, closing her eyes to take in the quiet solitude.
A breeze stirred the leaves above her, carrying the sounds of the city. Carriage and wagon wheels clattered nearby, but the lively murmur of distant voices, a few bursts of boisterous laughter, drew her attention. She opened her eyes, her gaze drawn to a side street where the sunlight reflected from colorful fabric. Craning her neck, a multitude of canopies came into view with a crowd milling about. A market.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the bench and she twisted back to the Crompton’s house. The doors remained closed. No one had noticed her absence. With a smile, she left the square, her boots clicking against cobblestones. As she neared, the bustling market came into full view—a maze of woven baskets, cloth stalls, and wooden carts. The scent of ripe melons, fresh baked bread, and vibrant flowersswirled together on the back of her palette. One vendor offered bundles of summer herbs, their leaves gleaming in the afternoon sun.
The hum of conversation and the clink of coins blended with the rhythmic calls of vendors, all competing for attention along the sun-soaked street. Josephine’s lips curved as a woman next to her negotiated for a bundle of mint. She passed a spice stall, breathing in cinnamon, nutmeg and clove.
Her heart caught as the blue of a naval uniform stood out among the bustling crowd. A small group of sailors haggled with a farmer’s wife over baskets of eggs and piles of sweet potatoes. Josephine slowed as they lifted crates carefully into their arms, the early-morning sun glinting off the polished buttons of their coats. The man who had just paid turned, and her breath caught. Lieutenant Caldwell.
His eyes settled on her, widening in unmistakable shock. “Miss Montclair?”
For a moment, all she could think about was the fountain—the way she’d flailed, the splash, the scandal of it all. And from the look on his face, he clearly hadn’t forgotten either.
Fire danced across her cheeks. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, words abandoning her as she sent up a silent plea for the earth to swallow her whole.
Taking a deep breath, she curtsied with as much grace as she could summon. “Hello, Lieutenant.”
