Chapter 16- Kiss of Regret

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Tennyson found Miss Yorke bent down beside the white rose hedge, affectionately stroking Red's floppy ears.

Josephine lit up at the sight of him, and reflected on how fallible first impressions can be. Tennyson's once irritating scowls, now brought with them cheerful comfort. His sharp words, were now witty banter. And his wasted good looks, were now appreciated to the full.

As they meandered through the gardens, Josephine regaled him with stories of her well-spent youth.

"....and so I named the horse Indigo. I thought it such a courageous name, fitting for my little adventurer," Josephine finished her tale, stopping to rest on a stone bench flanked by tall hedges.

She watched Red spin in several circles before collapsing at her feet. Tennyson's eyes remained steady on Josephine, quickening his pulse, while desperately holding back from brushing his hand against hers. In an attempt to redirect his thoughts, Tennyson inquired, "Tell me Miss Yorke, do you often adopt colors for creatures' namesakes?"

A knowing grin spread across Josephine's cheeks.

"You named your favorite hound, Red, and now have entrusted the adventurous horse with Indigo."

She couldn't hold in her light laughter and said, "I fear you are too perceptive Tennyson." He loved her laugh, feeling innumerable joy to be the cause. "You are correct. I only choose colors as namesakes."

"Is that so? For any particular reason?" he asked, feeling pride at his attentive observation.

"I suppose I should tell on myself." She bit her lower lip before starting yet another childhood story, explaining, "It began when I was no more than seven. Remember I told you about my obsession with frogs?"

He nodded.

"Well, prior to my obsession, I was a tad afraid of them. My cousin John said I would not dare touch a frog. Obviously, I did not want to be thought of as a coward, especially not to John..."

"Certainly not," he said with mock-enthusiasm.

"So when he was not looking, I went down to the water and snatched three frogs, trapping them in the fold of my dress, and you should have seen the surprise when I dropped all three into his lap," Josephine related, grinning like a cat with cream. "Well, the first two quickly hopped away, but one seemed to prefer our company. And, after an afternoon of playing with the remaining frog, we deemed it right to give him a name, only John and I rarely ever agree. John said to me, 'We will never agree Josie, we might as well name him green frog'. And there it was, we called him Green. And I have been using colors as names ever since."

"I wonder, shall you and Lord Grimsby name your first daughter Violet?" Tennyson teased, bumping his shoulder against hers.

Why would he ask such a thing? Does he still care so little for me?

Josephine stiffened at the implication, quietly asking, "Is that what you wish? For me to marry Lord Grimsby?"

Her question had momentarily silenced Tennyson, making him unable to form an appropriate response. Before Tennyson could scrutinize his actions, his hand had seized the side of Josephine's delicate face, pulling her into a gentle kiss. He was met with no resistance, as she sweetly returned the sentiment. But, it was over as quickly as it had begun when Tennyson jolted off the bench, as if she was comprised of fire.

"Forgive me, please," he rattled off with a remorseful groan, placing a hand over his mouth. "I should never have..."

Josephine was torn between elation and defeat. The kiss confirmed his reciprocal feelings, but Tennyson's apology and obvious shame trampled the glimmer of optimism.

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