Josephine
"It is just barely possible that my streak of ex tremely bad luck is about to come to an end." Josephine sank gratefully into the depths of the wingback chair and smiled at the two women perched on the sofa across from her.
She had first met Lucy Colyer and Charlotte Atwater six months before, in the offices of Goodhew & Willis. The three of them had arrived on the same day, seeking employment as companions. After a particularly trying after noon of interviews, Josephine had suggested that they all go to the tea shop just around the corner and commiserate.
As it happened the three of them were quite different in temperament, but that fact paled in comparison to the things that they did have in common: They were all in their mid-twenties, well past the age when a good marriage was still a viable option. They were all from respectable backgrounds; well-bred and well educated. And due to a variety of unfortunate circumstances, all three found themselves alone in the world and without resources.
In short, they shared the common bonds that drove women such as themselves into the paid companion profession.
That first afternoon tea together had become a regular Wednesday affair. After they had obtained posts, Wednesday was the one day of the week that each of them had free.
For the past few months they had been meeting here in the parlor of Lucy's elderly employer, Mrs. Blancheflower. It was not an environment calculated to lift one's spirits, in Josephine's opinion, and she knew the others did not find it particularly cheerful either.
The atmosphere was one of intense gloom due to the fact that Mrs. Blancheflower was dying somewhere upstairs. Fortunately for Lucy, who had been hired to keep the lady company in her remaining days, her employer was taking her time about making her transition to a higher plane.
As Mrs. Blancheflower slept most of the time, Lucy had found her post to be quite undemanding. The chief drawback was that her employer's relatives, who seldom came to call, had decreed that the housekeeper maintain a suitably funereal décor. That meant that there was a great deal of black cloth hung everywhere. In addition, the drapes were always kept pulled tightly closed to ensure that no hint of cheerful spring sunlight could squeeze into the somber rooms.
While the gloom weighed on one, Josephine and her friends endured it every Wednesday because there was one very significant advantage to holding their visits here: The tea and cakes were free, thanks to Mrs. Blancheflower's unknowing largesse. That meant that the three women could all save a few pennies.
Josephine had asked Hero to allow her to tell her friends the truth about her new post and had assured him that neither of them went about in Society. Lucy's employer was on her deathbed and Charlotte's was an elderly widow who was confined to her house by a failing heart. "Not that either of them would breathe a word about my role even if they were to encounter someone who was acquainted with you, sir," she had added with great certainty.
Hero had seemed quite satisfied, even unconcerned with her friends' ability to keep silent about her role as his phony fiancée. He truly was not the least bit worried about them spreading gossip, for the simple reason that he knew full well that no one in Society would pay any attention to such a wild rumor put about by a couple of impoverished paid companions. Who would take Lucy's and Charlotte's word over that of a wealthy, powerful earl?
Lucy and Charlotte had at first been astonished by the news that she was to play the role of Hero Fiennes Tiffin's fiancée and live in his house. But after learning that she would be properly chaperoned by one of his lordship's female relatives, they had concluded that the post was a very exciting one.
"Just think, you will be able to go to all the most exclusive balls and soirées," Charlotte said, looking dazzled. "And you will wear elegant gowns."
Lucy, ever the pessimist, affected an air of dark foreboding. "If I were you, I would be very cautious around him, Josephine."
Josephine and Charlotte both looked at her.
"Why do you say that?" Josephine demanded.
"A few months before I met you, I was employed as a companion to a widow who had connections in Society. She was unable to leave her bed, but in the months that I was with her, I learned that her chief pleasure was to keep up with the affairs of the ton. I recall some gossip about Hero Fiennes Tiffin."
"Go on," Charlotte pressed eagerly.
"At the time he was engaged to marry a young lady named Sydney Graham," Lucy continued. "But the on dit was that she was terrified of him."
Josephine frowned. "Terrified? That is a rather strong term."
"Nevertheless, she evidently regarded him with great fear. Her father accepted Tiffin's offer, of course, without bothering to consult with Sydney. After all, his lordship is extremely rich."
"And then there's the title," Charlotte mur mured. "Any papa would want such an alliance in the family."
"Precisely." Lucy poured herself another cup of tea. "Well, as it happened, the young lady was so frightened of the prospect of marrying Tiffin that one night she climbed down a ladder from her bedchamber and fled into the teeth of a terrible storm with a man named Roland Burnley. At dawn, Sydney's father found the pair in the same bedchamber at an inn. Naturally the two were wed immediately."
Charlotte tilted her head slightly. "You say that it was the young lady's father who pursued the couple? Not Tiffin himself?"
Lucy nodded, her face somber. "The story is that when he received the news that his bride to be had eloped, Tiffin was in his club. He calmly announced that the next time he chose a fiancée, he would go to an agency that supplies paid companions and select one. Then he went into the card room and played until dawn."
"Good heavens," Charlotte breathed. "He must be as cold as ice."
"He is, by all accounts," Lucy confirmed.
Josephine stared at Lucy, dumbstruck. And then the humor of the situation overtook her. She started to laugh so hard that she was forced to put her teacup down before the contents spilled onto the carpet.
Lucy and Charlotte stared at her.
"What is so amusing?" Charlotte asked sharply.
Josephine clutched her sides. "You must admit, Hero has certainly made good on his vow to obtain his next fiancée from an agency," she managed between giggles. "Who would have thought the man had such an ironic wit? What a great joke he is going to play upon Society."
"No offense, Jo," Lucy muttered, "but your new employer sounds even more eccentric than Mrs. Egan. I would not be at all surprised if he proved to be the type who will attempt to perpetrate outrages upon your person."
Charlotte shivered, but her eyes were very bright.
Josephine grinned. "Nonsense. I have interviewed a sufficient number of truly lecherous employers to know one when I see one. Hero is not the sort who would force himself on a lady. He possesses far too much self-control."
"He certainly does not appear to be a very passionate or romantic gentleman, either," Charlotte said, clearly disappointed.
"Why do you say that?" Josephine asked, startled by the observation. She thought about what she had glimpsed in the earl's smoky green eyes. Something told her that the reason Hero wielded so much self-control was precisely because he did possess a passionate nature.
"Any other gentleman endowed with even a modicum of romantic sensibilities who had been told that his fiancée had run off with another man would have given chase," Charlotte declared. "He would have snatched his lady from the arms of the man who had carried her off, and then challenged the other gentleman to a duel."
Lucy shuddered. "They say Fiennes Tiffin's blood runs cold, not hot."