Free Josette by Danielle Thorne Page A

begged, although it was muffled by hiccups and the handkerchief over her mouth.
    “It was nothing at all. One moment we were planning Christmas, and the next…”
    Josette struggled for an explanation. “I’m not sure how it happened at all, but it did and I’m dreadful sorry.”
    Amy wiped her face. “You said you did not love him. That you hadn't given it a thought.”
    “Well I hadn’t at first, but he's here now, you see. You know I have no expectations of matrimony.”
    “But it's expected. And if Papa discovers you let Edward kiss you, he’ll make you marry,” Amy said sadly.
    “No one is pushing me, and God knows I am grateful for it.”
    “But do you love him?”
    “I'm not sure. Does it really matter so much to you?”
    Amy lifted her eyes.
    In that moment, Josette understood. She saw in a flash Amy's constant attentions, her tagging along at his heels, the joy in his witticism and vivacity. The two shared such a love of the theatrical and relished the attention of one another. They were cut from the same cloth. “You have feelings for him.”
    Amy ducked her head and stared at her hands in her lap.
    “Oh Amy,” said Josette and she put her arms around her once more. “I had no idea. I was so caught up with myself I hadn't bothered to notice.”
    “You won't have to marry him.” Amy sniffled once more. “I'll stay at Beddingfield Park, Josette. I'll marry Edward, and you won't have to.”
    Josette laughed. “And should we inform our cousin of his good fortune?”
    Amy smiled at last. She sighed and leaned into Josette's shoulder. “He really is very wonderful.”
    “You don't miss his frogs?”
    Amy giggled. “I told you I'm not a child anymore. I've forgiven him completely.”
    The audacity of Edward's embrace and his subsequent snub toward Josette upon Amy's discovery, swept a fresh wave of emotions over Josette.
    “Of course, you've forgiven him,” she said. She pushed the irritation at her cousin away to consider later. “Who could not?”
     
    ≈ ≈ ≈
     
    By morning Edward had redeemed himself with his usual unabashed nature, and Amy had collected her emotions and stored them once more in the forefront of her heart, if not blatantly on her sleeve.
    Edward accompanied Lady Price to deliver baskets in the countryside. She had been surprised at the pretty decorations Josette had strung up all over the house with the help of her two conspirators, who, after being cajoled into joining Josette on her outing, pretended to forget the tragedy that had played out in the library.
    While her mother was out, Josette made arrangements with Hannah for dinner and waited for the Egglestone’s to arrive. Her father had invited them, along with a Mrs. Mulgrave, a widow of two years. Josette hoped the gold ribbons and her candlesticks would cheer the party.
    She had watched her mother's face that morning as she took in the Christmas decorations. Her grateful smile did not reach her eyes, and Josette knew where her thoughts lie. She did not believe that George would have wanted the holiday to be a dismal affair and was determined to carry his spirit in her heart. He did love to be gay.
    She had just resigned herself to the drawing room with music sheets in hand, when noises at the front of the house drew her to her feet again. Her mother and Mrs. Mulgrave had arrived at the same time and the bustle of activity gave hope of a happy night. When the Egglestone’s arrived in their modest wool capes, it was as pleasant as she could have wished.
    They sat down to dinner with her father at the head of the table, and he made a lovely blessing over the fare.
    “Amy,” said Mrs. Egglestone, before she'd even picked up her spoon, “how are you coming along?”
    “I’ve hardly missed town at all,” Amy confessed. “I've kept busy with my studies and helping Mama.”
    Josette raised a brow but held her tongue. “And Edward has been a great distraction.”
    “Distraction?” he cried, offended.
    Josette