Page 83 of The English Duke
“Yes.”
“I never thought you would offer for her,” Reese said.
Jordan’s mind made the adjustment between sisters.
He didn’t want to think about Josephine.
“Was she able to help you?” Reese asked.
Another adjustment back to Martha.
“Yes,” he said. “I think she was. I have to finish the modifications and test them out, but everything she recommended made sense.” He smiled despite himself. “She also recommended I put a leash around the ship so I don’t lose it. I can call it home like a lost puppy.”
“Intelligent woman.”
“Yes,” Jordan said. “She is. Remarkably so. I was able to discuss the problems with my compressor with her and she told me what to do to fix it. She has an affinity with machines I’ve never found in a female. Rarely in a male, for that matter.”
“In other words, she tinkers like you do.”
“She invents,” Jordan corrected. “She attempts. She proposes and dares and postulates.”
“It sounds as if you and Martha are better suited than you and Josephine.”
He had nothing to say in response. What comment would be appropriate? That he was sickened by the thought of marriage to Josephine? That he couldn’t remember a damn thing about two nights ago? Lust and only lust had guaranteed this union, but it was fueled by the elixir, not his wishes. He was damned if he was going to take it every night in order to feel something for his bride.
Maybe she could be convinced to go and visit her mother in Paris for an extended time. She could flaunt her new title as he fixed the roof on the north wing, both of them getting what they’d earned.
What would marriage to Martha have been like? Now that was a surprising question. Why had he even contemplated it? He pushed away the thought, although it was difficult to do so.
“What a pity Martha isn’t as attractive as her sister. I have a feeling she probably won’t marry.” Reese shrugged. “Not that she needs to. Wealthy women don’t need husbands.”
“She’s attractive in her own way,” Jordan said, feeling a surge of unexpected irritation. “Her eyes are warm. Her face is a perfect shape and wonderfully expressive. Her hair is a soft cloud.”
His words faded away. How did he know her hair was soft? He could almost feel it curling around his fingers.
“It sounds like you should have offered for the older sister,” Reese said, and added to the remark by patting Jordan on the shoulder.
He heard the door close as Reese entered Sedgebrook. He stood where he was for too long, well after losing sight of the York carriage.
He couldn’t dismiss the thought—even though he tried—that Reese had just swerved into the truth.
Chapter 24
“A letter’s come for you, miss,” Sarah said.
Josephine handed the girl another stack of fabric swatches to carry before taking the letter from her.
According to her grandmother, she didn’t need her own maid until she had her season or was married. Consequently, she used the services of Martha’s maid, a silly girl who was forever smiling and giggling in an annoying way. She couldn’t do proper hair and she had no sense of style whatsoever. The only thing she did well was take things from one place to another. Oh, and tell stories, which made her halfway valuable.
Because of Sarah she knew what was going on at Griffin House, which wasn’t much, all in all. The tradesmen came when Gran summoned them. The church elders were always there with their hands out. The roof needed repairing; the altar should be refurbished. The organ required new pipes and the baptismal font had sprung a leak.
The church elders had better ensure her wedding ceremony was magnificent for all the money the Yorks had provided over the years.
She glanced at the letter, half expecting it to be from her mother. The letter to Maman informing her of her upcoming marriage had been one of the first ones she’d written.
Although Maman would be pleased she was marrying a duke, there was always a small possibility her mother would not return for the wedding. Josephine was under no illusions as to her mother’s maternal instincts. They’d always come behind Marie’s self-interest. She’d discovered that fact when she was nine years old and her birthday celebration had clashed with her mother’s wish to visit London.
To her surprise, the letter wasn’t from Maman. She frowned at it before telling Sarah to take the swatches to the parlor.
