Josephine's Lists

Chapter 30- The Enlightening

"Josephine! Get in here," Mr. Yorke's voice bellowed from inside his study.

Months. She hadn't seen her father in months. And judging by the demanding tone in his summons, he was none too thrilled. Josephine clenched in uneasy anticipation of their reunion. Fear of his scolding usually weighed heavy. But today felt different. Today was different. Too much had transpired since Josephine had last seen her father. And rumors of his financial trouble were stinging heavy upon her head. What would he say? Would he be angry because of Tennyson, or displeased with her behavior while away? Would he confess to squandering the family's money? Mr. Yorke had originally pushed the union between Josephine and Tennyson, but had his stance changed? Even with the what ifs stifling the air, she had missed her father. Missed his reluctant smiles and familiarity.

Despite Mr. Yorke's flaws, Josephine never doubted whether she was loved. But that knowledge didn't quell the aching dread. She was entering her father's study with too many questions and not near enough answers. Facing a man who could transform scolding into an art form.

Bracing for impact, she pasted on a bright smile, peeping around the corner of the study door. "Long time, no see, dear stranger! And you are still as handsome as ever." Josephine chose to go the overly happy flatterer route, hoping to lighten her father's tone.

Mr. Yorke leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, studying his daughter. Josephine ignored the scrutiny, striding purposefully toward him, throwing her arms around his neck in a genuinely affectionate greeting. Her father looked more tired than usual. She squeezed tight as if to send her boundless energy coursing through him.

He lightly patted her arm in acquiescence. Josephine could feel a bit of his tension dissipate along with her own.

"I have missed you," she softly admitted into his ear before straightening back to her full height.

Mr. Yorke looked up at her in challenge. "I am surprised you have had time to miss me. You have been quite busy from what I hear."

"Well, I...um...I," she stammered.

He motioned to a chair facing his desk. "Sit down Josephine. We need to talk."

Mr. Yorke wasn't a man to mince words. He got right down to business. And even though he hadn't seen his daughter in months, Mr. Yorke treated their reunion with his normal efficiency.

Josephine's cheery disposition became harder to fabricate. She did as instructed, wringing hands in the lap of her sage muslin dress. "What would you like to discuss? The weather perhaps?"

It was mostly an honest question, aside from the weather quip. Her father could be angry with her for any number of reasons. She wasn't about to start listing them.

Mr. Yorke leaned forward, putting elbows atop his desk. "For a start, tell me about Mr. Charles Tennyson. I have heard conflicting reports with regard to the pair of you. And I expect clarification from those with starring roles."

Oh dear, Father dove head first

Josephine sat up a little straighter, instinctively glancing out toward the garden where she knew Tennyson would be walking with Morley. "Yes, um...of course. Mr. Charles Tennyson..." Where should she begin on such a complex subject? Saying, well father, at first I hated Tennyson, then pretended to like him for your sake, then actually liked him only to find he did not reciprocate, thereafter found out Tennyson did, indeed, like me in earnest. But we would all be financially destitute. And then his father murdered my most beloved dog, and Tennyson again professed his disinterest, only for me to travel back to London and force him to love me, which, as it turns out, he already did, seemed a wee bit dramatic and complex to explain. Rehashing it in her head nearly gave whiplash.