It was as if the duke had stolen all the air in the room, gathering it up around him and leaving none for Josephine as she stared at him, her eyes caught and held by his gaze as warmth spread through her.
“It was my honour to defend my future husband,” she murmured, at a loss for anything better to say.
But her words seemed to have sparked something in him, his gaze darkening as his eyes travelled her face.
There was nothing untoward about it, but Josephine felt as if they were under a microscope, her heart hammering and her cheeks heating at the thought that her parents were right there witnessing everything.
It was heated and emotional, two things that were more than enough to feel as if they should have been more private.
But … at the same time … there was another layer. Something strong and solid that felt as if it bound the two ofthem together. Maybe it was just their united front or the fact that she realized how much she really did trust him. Even with all the questions still before her, even with the mystery of his wife’s death still looming like an ever-present shadow over the manor …
She trusted the duke.
And despite his great love for his late wife, it was clear that he felt something for her. What that something was, was the only question.
And if it was strong enough to withstand whatever darkness still awaited them.
Chapter 18
“Try not to look as if you want to murder everyone here,” Simon murmured, handing Henry a drink as he grinned heartily at the many guests filling the dining room.
Too many guests. Henry had hardly expected everyone to answer the wedding invitations and show up from out of town. It was his second marriage, not his first, yet he could almost swear that more people were staying in his home now than when he and Martha had been married. And there were still more days for more to arrive before the wedding.
“Especially not now,” Simon continued gleefully as if Henry hadn’t ignored his first comment. “As I do believe that is your intended and at least one of her siblings.”
Henry shot Simon a look as his friend quickly broke away, laughing under his breath on his way to go and bother someone else.
He was right, damn him. It was Josephine headed his way, and from the looks of it, with at least one of her sisters and her sister’s presumed husband in tow as well. There was a resemblance between the woman and Josephine, a similar colouring and bone structure. But the woman next to her wasa washed-out version, her hair a dull brown and her features pinched and less expressive.
“Your Grace,” Josephine greeted, her smile tight and forced as she stopped just in front of him. “This is my sister, Mrs Amelie Frond, and her husband, Mr Jacob Frond.”
“Your Grace,” her siblings repeated, inclining their heads just slightly.
Amelie, her sister, eyed Henry up and down, her smile just as fake as the fondness she pretended to display to her sister.
“An honour to meet both of you,” Henry lied, reaching out to take Josephine’s hand so that he could pull her to his side and away from the couple that seemed to set her so far on edge.
“The honour is all ours, of course,” Mr Frond blustered, his cheeks going a ruddy red as he looked in awe around him. “Your estate is so–”
“Lovely,” Mrs Frond spoke quickly over her husband, elbowing him before he could make a social faux pas. “He was going to say how lovely it is. It’s hard to imagine our little Josie at home here among all the finery.” She laughed, the sound grating to Henry’s ears.
And his smile tightened, his fingers closing over Josephine’s hand as he felt her flinch beside him.
“Is it hard for you to imagine?” he asked silkily, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “I think she outshines everything around her.” And that included her and her husband before them.
Josephine’s sister’s smile slipped right off her face, her lips parting despite the lack of sound that came from them.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Henry continued without pause, his gaze icy as he stared the Fronds down. “I have important people to introduce Josephine to.”
He swept her away smoothly, refusing to look back at her sister gaping after them even though he could see Josephine do so several times from his side as he took her away.
“That was incorrigible.” She giggled breathlessly as soon as they were out of earshot. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Amelie so shocked.”
“Good.” Henry fought the urge to glare back at the insufferable woman; his temper soothed only slightly by how amused Josephine seemed by it all. “I can see why you made little mention of your siblings.” All of them, thus far, had been the same. Snotty, rude, and snarky when it came to theiryoungest sister. They were, none of them, outright ugly. But there was a dissatisfaction there, a separation between them and Josephine that was all the more marked by how tense she became around them.
“They all got out,” Josephine said with a shrug. There was no bitterness to her tone, though a resigned weariness that he’d come to learn came from her only when she spoke of her family’s affairs. “I think they resent me for writing for help so much, honestly. I’m the reminder that they haven’t helped our parents enough.”
“And they’re your reminder of how much you were forced to shoulder because of it,” Henry pointed out gently, his thumb brushing against her hand in a show of support.
