Josephine's Lists

Chapter 8- Narrow escape

CHAPTER 8

  "I am looking forward to tonight!" exclaimed an overjoyed Miss Whitmore, tugging at her kid gloves while pacing the drawing room floor. "I do wish Aunt and Uncle were not already engaged in dinner plans, though. Sir Cartwright said this is one of his favorite operas, and with the season soon ending I am certain the theatre will be brimming with the best of society!"

            Constance's brother, indifferent to an evening at the theatre, responded, "Hopeful to be seen on the arm of Sir Cartwright, sister? Maybe wishing a certain Mr. Morley will hear of your new love, and become infuriatingly jealous?"

            Constance ceased pacing to glare at her brother. "If you must know, I have given little thought to Mr. Morley. Sir Cartwright keeps my thoughts well occupied." She looked to the drawing room door. "I wonder what is keeping Josephine?" And lowering her voice, said, "You know, she and Mr. Tennyson have been spending considerable time together, perhaps she is fretting over her appearance. It takes significantly more time to ready ourselves, when we feel the need to impress."

            Henry masked his jealousy and feigned disinterest, "Or perhaps, she is enjoying a few more moments of solitude before being subjected to a hoard of theatre goers."

            "Are you always so gloomy?"

            "Only for you, dear sister," Henry joked, as Constance rolled her eyes.

            "Well for Isabella's sake, try to improve your mood. I would shudder to have you as my escort."

            "A mutual feeling...but fear not sister. I will be a perfect gentleman for Miss Tennyson. She has yet to agitate me, and thus deserves a pleasant evening," he assured, as the door opened and Henry quickly rose. A pang of disappointment in his chest, as Sir Cartwright, Mr. Tennyson, and Miss Tennyson were announced.

  It seemed Josephine would be last to join the party.

            Henry delivered, as promised, politely attending to Miss Tennyson. Constance still stood, only now with a cheerful Sir Cartwright at her side, while Mr. Tennyson impatiently waited on the edge of a gold brocade wingback chair, signature scowl upon his face.

  The drawing room door opened, and an apologetic Josephine entered.

  "Please forgive my tardiness. I had an unexpected change in wardrobe."

            Henry's breath caught, drawing his attention away from Miss Tennyson, as he looked upon Josephine in the doorway. Perfect curls framed her delicate face, and she wore a muslin gown, intricately trimmed with gold rosettes, and expertly tailored to her petite frame. Even Mr. Tennyson, felt a flutter in his stomach as he caught sight of her ethereal appearance, although he maintained an unimpressed expression.

            Constance soothed Josephine, "Do not worry yourself, we have not been waiting long." And then leaned in to quietly ask, "What caused the hasty wardrobe change?"

          Josephine whispered, explaining, "Nothing a little needle and thread won't mend."

            "Your second choice of garment is a stunning one. I predict many pairs of eyes upon you tonight," Constance complimented, before turning back to Sir Cartwright.

            Isabella exchanged friendly smiles, and Josephine crossed the room to where a waiting Tennyson now stood.

            "Good evening, Miss Yorke," he greeted, both hands behind his back, with an expression of apathy.

            "Good evening, I am certain you are angry for my tardiness, a fact which gives me slight satisfaction." The corner of her mouth curled in gratification. She had to admire his appearance, with his double-breasted navy tailcoat, adorned with brass buttons. His sea green eyes narrowed, giving him a decidedly masculine appearance.