A Kiss To Remember | Herophine

Chapter Nine - The Missing Duke

Josephine

Sometimes I wonder if you even remember me....

Josephine's heart stopped, then stuttered into an uneven beat. The old man must be mistaken. As far as she knew, Halford Tombob hadn’t left Arden since George II had sat on the throne.

“I mean no disrespect, Mr. Tombob,” she said, tucking her gloved hand in the crook of Hardin’s arm, “but that's quite impossible. This is my fiance’s first visit to the village.”

Tombob’s papery brow crinkled in a frown. “Are you quite certain? Why, that’s most peculiar. I would have sworn ...” He shook his woolly, white head. “My mistake, I suppose. Neither my eyesight nor my wits are what they used to be." Still shaking his head, he started to turn away.

“Wait, sir.” Despite his respectful tone, Hardin's command rang with an authority that was impossible to disobey. The old man turned back to find Hardin peering into his face. “Can you tell me why you thought you knew me?"

Tombob planted the tip of his cane firmly in the grass. “You put me in mind of a boy I once knew. Can’t remember the lad’s name. But he was a generous and good-natured soul-not an ounce of cheekiness in him.”

A smile slowly curved Hardin's lips. “Then the lady must be right. I cannot be that boy.”

Both Tombob and the crowd burst into laughter at Hardin’s jest. Josephine tugged at his arm, certain her nerves had suffered enough shocks for one day. “Come, Mr. Scott. We really mustn’t daily any longer. Maggie will be waiting lunch for us."

When their battered barouche came rolling into the manor’s cobbled drive a short while later, it wasn’t Maggie but John who was waiting for them, fresh from his expedition to London. Since the old man possessed only two expressionsgrim and grimmer-it was impossible to tell if he bore good tidings or ill.

Before Hardin could offer a hand to assist her down, Josephine came spilling out of the barouche, nearly shredding her hem in her haste. “Welcome back, John. Have you any word on that ram we were thinking of purchasing for our flocks?”

“I might,” he said cryptically.

“We’ve been getting along perfectly well without a new ram.” Anthony shot Hardin a sullen look. “I don’t see why we have need of one now."

“Unless we can roast it over a nice hot spit," Katie concurred sweetly.

“Come, John," Josephine said, smiling through clenched teeth. “Since it’s livestock we’ll be discussing, it would probably be best if we conducted our business in the barn.”

Before the children could further stir Hardin’s suspicions, she started for the barn, dragging John along behind her as fast as his bandy legs would allow. She’d barely gotten the barn door closed and latched before she whirled around to face him. “What have you learned in London, John? Is there any word of a missing gentleman?”

“Don’t ’urry me, gel. Give me time to catch m’breath."

Despite her impatience, Josephine knew there was no rushing John when he didn't want to be rushed. Maggie had once nagged him into carrying a freshly baked mince pie to one of their neighbors only to have it arrive 21 weeks later with three pieces missing and a moldy crust.

She stewed in silence while he propped one foot on an overturned bucket, drew a pipe from his pocket, lit it, and took a leisurely draw. Just when she thought she might start tearing at her hair or his, he pursed his lips, blew out a mouthful of smoke, and said, “There’s a missin’ gent, all right."