Page 47 of A Duke to Undo her
Was that it?! It could not be. Josephine refused to let that incomplete exchange be the last conversation she ever had with the man she loved…
Chapter Twenty-One
“There you are, Josephine,” Madeline said cheerfully. “Vera sent me to bring you back after your dance with the duke. She’s over there with Lady Sudbury now and Rose is dancing with that officer, Captain Lloyd. He’s Lord Yardley’s younger brother, apparently. You don’t know him? Nor do I, even though my aunt lives near Yardley Manor. Anyway, more importantly, how was the waltz?”
Josephine tried to smile and follow her friend’s very normal lines of conversation with nods and shakes of her head as they walked together through the crowded ballroom. At this last question, however, she had to choke back a sob which she masked with a cough and recourse to her handkerchief.
“Does the Duke of Ashbourne dance as well as his brother?” Madeline continued in a friendly manner, once Josephine had recomposed herself.
“I suppose he does,” Josephine answered, a deep sadness threatening to overwhelm her as she considered the mingled pleasure and frustration of their dance. “Although they are such very different men.”
“Rose will be disappointed to hear such a balanced view from you. She wanted the duke to have two left feet so that Mr. Emerton would shine in contrast. I believe she won’t rest until you are Mrs. Emerton…”
These words pained Josephine and Madeline stopped speaking, Josephine’s expression evidently enough to tell her that something was wrong.
“Josephine?” her friend asked cautiously. “Has something upset you? Did I speak carelessly in some way?”
“I cannot talk about… such things, Madeline. Forgive me.”
As the merry music for a reel began, it occurred to Josephine that Benedict Emerton would likely be searching for her and she could not face him. She drew back her arm from Madeline’s.
“I need air,” she said desperately and then her racing thoughts, frustrated longings and the playing of the orchestra together overwhelmed her. “I cannot be in here. I cannot!”
With these anguished words, Josephine turned and raced from the ballroom towards the conservatory door, leaving herstunned friend alone and the crowds she passed through looking askance after her precipitate flight.
Josephine did not deliberately rush through the conservatories with the conscious intention of seeking out the Duke of Ashbourne, but it was still the direction in which her mind and body turned automatically. She knew that Cassius had walked away in this direction, likely feeling something very like her own present urge for air and space and darkness.
She knew must find him and speak to him again, needing the answers he had denied her more than ever. There was likely limited time left to Josephine before Vera, Madeline and Rose followed her. Young ladies were not supposed to go rushing off into the night alone at balls, although Josephine often did.
Where would the duke be? Rejecting the possibility that he had remained in one of the conservatories, presently filling with the usual complement of resting elderly ladies, strolling lovers and watchful chaperones, Josephine made for the door to the gardens and the moonlit night outside.
But which path would Cassius have taken? Certainly not the main path, brightly lit both by the moon and the many torches placed along its edges to guide walkers taking the air between dances.
And then, left or right? The right hand path went in the direction of the stables and the bridle paths down towards the lake andwoodland. The left Josephine knew less well but remembered as being the direction of various groves and squares of classical sculptures and water features.
The former landscape drew Josephine more in her present wild mood, but the latter was better suited to ball dress and shoes. She could imagine the same decision being made by the man she sought and picked up her skirts again to speed her step.
If anyone saw Josephine, or commented on her peculiar actions, she was not aware of it tonight. In any case, once she passed beyond a high privet hedge, she found herself seemingly alone with only the moonlight to guide her. Should she call out his name? Josephine was almost desperate enough to do so but within a few further minutes her ears detected a man’s step.
When she saw the outline of the only figure beside the antique fountain, tall, dark and broad-shouldered, it was clear that her instincts had been right. She approached silently, her ball slippers making no noise on the flagstones.
“Cassius.”
When Josephine did speak his name, it was very quiet rather than a loud call but still the Duke of Ashbourne started violently as he turned to her in the moonlight, joy and alarm equally apparent on his face.
“You cannot leave me without explaining yourself,” she told him, the volume of her voice still soft, although Josephine was fiercein her tone and expression. “I cannot believe that it is what you want. It is not what I want. I won’t let you do it.”
“God! Josephine…” he groaned briefly, closing his eyes and running his hands through his already unruly hair. “What I want…”
“Tell me what you want,” Josephine ordered the duke, coming to stand immediately before him and quivering immediately with the force of the desire that radiated from his body and further incited her own longings.
Without warning, he took her in his arms and Josephine almost swooned as he kissed her. The embrace tonight was tender but restrained and Cassius pulled back his lips far sooner than Josephine would have liked, his hands still stroking her face, her neck, her hair. His eyes looked on her with the intensity of a man trying to fix a sight in his memory forever.
“I want you in ways I cannot have you, Josephine,” her lover finally said. “In the library I came very close to claiming you in a way that should belong only to your husband one day.”
“But it is only you that I want, Cassius,” Josephine tried to reassure him. “I wanted you to do everything, not some imagined future husband.”
He sighed deeply and Josephine could feel his body almost vibrating with its inner tension.
