Josephine was distracted after the rooster incident, and it persisted throughout the subsequent dinner. She hadn't dared to look in Tennyson's direction, and instead stuck close beside Constance. Isabella had been kind enough to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary for which Josephine was appreciative. Henry was a no-show at dinner, and she assumed he stayed in his room because of the nasty bruise painting his face.
Josephine knew people were suspicious of the time her and Tennyson spent apart. She could feel it in the glares of Mrs. Tennyson. She and he hardly seemed like acquaintances. And Josephine became trapped in the could have, would have, should have's.
I could have told Tennyson 'no' when he suggested we fabricate a friendship.
I would have not fallen for him if I had avoided him altogether.
I should have never come to Loewick House.
The problem with could, would, and should haves? They are a daydream, and when the dream is over all that remains is what did happen. And you can't change the dids.
Constance had asked Josephine about her uncharacteristic behavior, but between the scolding she received over the rooster debacle and not wanting to distract from Constance's engagement, Josephine pretended there was nothing new to tell. And truthfully added that she was homesick.
Josephine prepared to avoid Tennyson at breakfast too, but he had other plans. She cautiously eyed the long dining table. Once she seated herself at the far end beside Lord Cavender, Tennyson wasted no time placing his crowded plate on her vacant side. She briefly glanced at the fresh fruits and buttered rolls in chaotic array.
Why did he sit here? Perhaps he also noticed his mother's evil glares...
She feigned deep interest in her boiled egg. But she could feel Tennyson's proximity like a second skin, and Josephine scolded herself for the trill in her chest.
"Good morning Miss Yorke," his deep voice calmly greeted, chipping away at her resolve to despise him.
"Good morning," came her curt reply.
He smirked. Chip
She added, "Why sit beside me, when there are many more appealing choices?"
"Not by my estimation. That scowl is quite becoming on you," Tennyson responded, and she had to steady her expression. Chip
When Josephine made no return comment he continued, "Will you ride with me this morning? But before you say no, you should recognize that I did not demand or force. I politely asked if you would accompany me. And, if you still say no, I will humiliate myself by begging. I promise it is important. Again I ask, will you go riding with me?"
Josephine didn't know what to make of Tennyson's invitation, but his hopeful expression chipped away her remaining resolve. She would say yes, but not before making him fret a bit.
"You do not mind humiliating yourself with begging? Hmmm...But, I do not think begging suits you. I would prefer a grander gesture," she mischievously offered.
Lord Cavender began speaking with Josephine, oblivious to her and Tennyson's conversation. "Miss Yorke, did I tell you that the Rhinoceros Beetle can lift up to eight-hundred times it's weight? Simply fascinating! Can you imagine all the things you could carry with that magnitude of strength?!"
"Perhaps Mr. Tennyson's ego?" Josephine dryly commented, causing Lord Cavender to sputter and suddenly notice the additional person beside Miss Yorke. Tennyson offered a slight nod. While Lord Cavender still looked a bit startled, she continued, "The Rhinoceros Beetle sounds to be an amazing creature. Truly, with that measure of strength, I would pick up all sorts of things, if only to showcase my abilities. What would you attempt, Sir?"
"Oh, hmmm. I am not certain. Allow me to ruminate on such a fascinating inquiry," requested Lord Cavender, whom proceeded to take a large bite of buttered toast, staring off into the distance.
Tennyson wasted no time picking up where they had left off. "What sort of grand gesture did you have in mind? I am desperate for your company this morning. Name your price Miss Yorke."
She dramatically tapped her chin in meditation. A part of her was overjoyed at his riding invitation, the part that craved his attention.
My irrational, romantic, and ignorant side.
Another part of her wanted to freely list the offenses he had amassed against her and then kick him before stalking out, the part that was hurt and frustrated.
My rational, intelligent, and a tad childish side.
It wasn't what Josephine wanted, but she requested the only bargaining chip she possessed. "Give me back my waltz," she challenged, and Tennyson stiffened at the request.
"Your waltz?" he questioned, although perfectly understanding her.
"Yes, my waltz," Josephine reiterated, masking her regret. "I promised you the first one. Tomorrow is the Rivingdale's ball and I want it back."
Tennyson argued, "Although I won the waltz fair and square?"
"Hence it being a grand gesture. If you want me to ride with you this morning, and if it is truly important to you, the first waltz is mine to dance with whomever I choose," she finished, sounding more confident than she felt.
Tennyson huffed a frustrated breath, but conceded, "Congratulations. You have your waltz back."
Josephine remained expressionless offering a simple nod and then dabbed the corners of her mouth with a powder blue napkin.
"Now, seeing as how the matter is settled, eat with haste," he commanded. "You promised me a ride and I intend to be paid in full."
~-~
Josephine tightly gripped the reins, watching Isabella and her cousin, Miss Horton, galloping ahead at a flashing pace. The girls had encouraged Josephine and Tennyson to ride at their own leisure and to meet them at the old carriage house. They had clearly been instructed by Tennyson prior to the ride. Josephine couldn't discern the purpose of their morning outing or how much the girls knew, but she was grateful for the privacy.
"Your strategy has worked," Josephine observed, squinting as the morning sun poured through the trees. "We are riding alone in the woods, which, I assume, was your plan. I know this, because you leave nothing to chance. So, if it is your intention to murder me out here, I only ask you do so quickly."
He lightly chuckled, "Something tells me that killing Miss Josephine Yorke would be no easy feat. Although, I may have fantasized about it a time or two."
"Only a time or two?" she returned, and their playfulness almost made her forget the trove of unpleasantness which had transpired between them. Almost.
But the dull ache in her chest and the sinking sadness each time he looked her way was a painful reminder. She had freely offered her heart and he had freely rejected it.
She didn't know why this ride was important nor what Tennyson needed to say. Josephine had conjured different scenarios in her head but everything he did was unexpected. She could no sooner guess the number of hairs in her horse's mane. Possibly he wanted to apologize? Possibly not. Yet, his mood gave her hope.
Josephine had easily convinced Lord and Lady Cavender to return to London after the Rivingdale's ball. Lady Cavender had accomplished her largest goal, a husband for Constance. And the Cavenders, being ill-suited for country life, were anxious to return home. Josephine, too, wanted to leave Loewick House as quickly as possible, but she hated leaving things so unsettled between her and Tennyson. She hoped the morning ride would facilitate a truce. Or, at least, give a semblance of closure.
Tennyson sharply pulled his horse to a stop, prompting Josephine to follow suit.
"We will stop here a moment," he stated, appearing serious and giving no room for argument. "There are personal matters I must discuss with you."
"You gave me back my waltz. I suppose following your demands is part of the bargain," she acquiesced.
He quickly dismounted and before Josephine could do the same, both his hands were firmly grasping her waist, lowering her feet to the damp morning grass. She tried to steady her traitorous breath as the tension rose to an indisputable pinnacle. Josephine immediately stepped back pushing from his grasp.
Distance. He has the power to shatter you into pieces smaller than sand. Impossible to put back together...
Tennyson cleared his throat and silently gestured to a fallen tree. After throwing a blanket atop the withering trunk, he said, "You will want to sit."
"And if I do not?"
He gave a pointed look. She sat.
Tennyson grappled with how to begin. "It is difficult for me to...to um explain. You see, yesterday I received some news..."
"News?"
"Not news exactly, but rather, unsubstantiated gossip. Wait...Perhaps I should first tell you...no, first I should ask you..." he wavered.
Tennyson behaving indecisively was an oddity, which only fueled Josephine's frustration. She demanded, "If you do not start actually telling me something, I will likely scream."
"A true test of patience is when we are ignorant of that which awaits," he theorized.
Josephine stared, visibly unimpressed.
Still staring.
Tennyson got the message, continuing, "Would you prefer to discuss your lack of patience another time?"
"Excellent idea," she dryly agreed.
Tennyson braced himself to tell her everything. Josephine had been correct. He had planned out their ride and premeditated his sister's departure. Tennyson had also prepared what he wanted to say and in which order he needed to say it. But, as he looked at her exquisite blue eyes glaring impatiently, there was only one thought that came to mind...
"I am in love with you," Tennyson suddenly blurted, rendering Josephine speechless.
She didn't know how to respond. Shock. She was in shock.
Then, she turned furious...
***************************************
Another chapter down! The next one will have all the good stuff!!
***************************************