Page 62 of A Duke to Undo her
The Duke of Ashbourne, however, was known only to be sober, dutiful and honorable. He was an active and respected member of the House of Lords, with no closer links to scandal than his mother’s grief-triggered collapse many years ago.
Taking advantage of the confusion now reigning among the three men, Cassius Emerton barged past them towards the ladies. Josephine’s sisters were too quick for him, however, and Josephine found herself bundled into the nearby coach beforeshe could resist, Constance slamming and locking all the doors and windows behind them.
Only Vera now seemed to be paying any attention to Josephine, Constance and Ophelia more concerned with the outside situation.
“Josephine, the Duke of Ashbourne…this is most peculiar and unexpected…why should he…” Vera said, struggling to marshal her thoughts or suspicions.
“Is he dangerous, Vera?” Ophelia interrupted, hugging Matilda close, the infant luckily seeming undisturbed by the unrest among the adults. “You know the Duke of Ashbourne. What can he want with Josephine?”
“Lady Josephine, I must talk with you!” Cassius shouted insistently from outside the coach.
“As he says, the duke wishes to talk with me,” Josephine answered Ophelia clearly, gesturing towards the voice outside. “I really must go out and speak to him. It would be best for everyone.”
Constance frowned a refusal and put a finger to her lips, still unwilling to even countenance this idea.
“Your Grace, I must ask you to desist,” Josephine heard Lord Elmridge saying in reasonable but defensive tones. “This is no proper way to address my sister-in-law, who is not yet quite ofage. You may give me any message, you wish to transmit and I will ensure that Lady Josephine hears it.”
“I will be one-and-twenty in less than two months,” Josephine groaned as she heard this. “I know Norman means well, Vera, but I really can speak for myself. I believe I ought to, in this situation.”
“My message is only for Josephine,” the duke’s steadfast voice continued to insist. “I must see her.”
These words and his urgent tone made Josephine ache, body and soul. How she wanted him, and yet, what hope could there be? Cassius had made his decision clear to her at Ashbourne Castle. He had seemed completely set on their separation even if his reasoning remained largely beyond her comprehension.
“Constance,” Lady Elmridge broke in when the oldest of the sisters again seemed likely to object to any action from Josephine. “It occurs to me that this might not be what it seems. Josephine must tell us what passed between her and the duke at Ashbourne Castle, mustn’t she? We might find a quite innocent explanation.”
“What can you mean, Vera?” Lady Norfield questioned with surprise. “What possible reason could there be for such unruly behavior? Has the man lost his mind.”
“A crowd is forming, Your Grace,” Lord Elmridge’s voice warned outside the coach. “I fear such a public exhibition could prove most embarrassing for all of us, especially you. I shall have to askthe coachman to take the ladies home. You may then speak to us as Lady Josephine’s nearest male relatives.”
Something in Josephine now entirely rebelled. She loved her family but could not let herself be swept up and taken away from here as though she had no will or mind or rights of her own. She was not a helpless heroine in some over-romantic novel, she was a real live woman with her own mind, heart and desires.
“Josephine, I love you!” the Duke of Ashbourne called out desperately, hardening her resolution.
She knew she must act quickly. Before any order could be given to the coachman by Lord Elmridge, Josephine had unfastened the door on the far side of the coach and jumped down to the ground, giving her sisters little chance to stop her.
“Josephine, you cannot…” she heard Constance’s voice protesting behind her but she dashed around the carriage, before anyone might pursue her, conscious of the eyes of many bystanders as well as those of her family.
“I shall speak to the duke myself,” Josephine told her brothers-in-law firmly once she reached the other side of the vehicle, frowning when they seemed likely to obstruct her. “It would be very unwise to stop me."
Reluctantly, Victor, Norman and Percival permitted her to approach the Duke of Ashbourne although all three of them drew close and remained on guard like watchful dogs. Finallyface to face, even in these circumstances. Josephine saw a faint smile on Cassius’ strained features as he looked at her.
“Josephine,” he said, making no attempt at formality or politeness, which would have come far too late now in any case. “I had to see you.”
“What are you doing here, Cassius?” she asked him, noting the duke’s unshaven jaw and the shadows under his deep blue eyes, both which gave her an impossible urge to stroke that disordered head and bring it down to rest on her bosom.
What could there still be left to say between them now? He had wanted her to go and she had gone. Why come chasing after her?
“I came to tell you that I loved you. Please, don’t go to Scotland, I love you…”
Surely this was exactly what Josephine wanted to hear and yet she winced, the words stinging rather than comforting her. She turned away, unable to meet the intensity of the duke’s eyes any longer. It hurt too much to want someone this badly and know that she could not have him.
“I thought that you did not wish to see me again, Cassius. I have tried to accept that. Do not make it harder.”
“No!” he burst out. “I have been a blind, misguided fool. You must accept that and not anything I said to you that night at thefountain, or in the library after we… No, I have been so wrong about everything, all along.”
This was quite an admission from a man so used to being right and holding the upper hand in almost every situation. How had Josephine ever thought him so arrogant and stern when they first met?
Yet, still, what could it all mean? What difference could any of this make if he still believed himself somehow broken, unfitted for love? It still chilled Josephine to remember how abruptly Cassius Emerton’s mood had shifted that night in the library at Ashbourne Castle. Or, how he had kissed her so tenderly by the fountain after the ball and then sent her away regardless.
