Three days later and Gideon felt as though everything was slowly returning back to normal. His mother was now able to come down to the drawing room for a short part of the day and his sister, now free of the fever entirely, was able to sit by the fire in her room. Josephine had promised her that she could come down to the drawing-room herself tomorrow, once she had garnered a little more strength.

He rubbed the velvety nose of his stallion, Hunter, and smiled to himself. Josephine was the best of women, for she had worked tirelessly and unendingly in an attempt to bring about this now happy situation. He could not thank her enough for what she had done, finding his thoughts almost always turning towards her. They had grown rather close these last two weeks and he found his heart a little painful at the thought of her returning to London.

A sudden weakness rushed through him and he was forced to hold onto the stable door for a moment, his eyes closing tightly. Evidently, he was not the only one who required a little more rest.

“Are you all right, my lord?”

He opened his eyes to see one of the stable hands looking at him with concern, although Gideon noticed that the man kept his distance.

“I am quite well,” he said, firmly. “Might you saddle Hunter? I thought to take a short ride this afternoon.”

Hunter, as though understanding what was said, tossed his mane and whinnied loudly, making Gideon laugh.

“Of course, my lord,” the stable hand chuckled, going in search of a saddle. “If you’ll just give me a minute or two.”

Gideon nodded. “Of course.” Making his way outside into the weak afternoon sunshine, he leaned back against the stable wall and let out a long breath. The letter Georgina had written him was still lingering in his thoughts, even though he had done his best to push them aside. Georgina, so foolish and so selfish, had struck his heart another blow, to the point that he was now considering their future together with great solemnity.

The truth was, he did not want to marry Georgina. She was vapid and disinteresting, caring only for how she looked and what gowns she wore. The way that she had turned her back on not only himself but on his mother and sister had torn at his heart, for she had not so much as expressed even a single hint of interest in how his family fared.

When he had written to her to inform her that the sickness was leaving his house and that the servants had returned, he had received nothing more than a short, rather curt, reply. She was still in London, it seemed, keeping away from all those who were ill with the fever. For whatever reason, her father had not yet sent her the carriage – which, Gideon considered, might have been because her father had not yet returned home. Thinking that his daughter was safe with Gideon, he might have lingered a while on his return to his country seat. There were plenty of inns and the like, which could entertain a gentleman for some days if he so wished. Regardless, Georgina was still in London and yet, despite the fever raging in the streets, she did not wish to see him. Rather unkindly, she had stated that even if there was a hint of fever in his household, she would not venture anywhere near. There had not been any exultations of delight over his mother and sister’s recovery, had not so much as mentioned how glad she was that Josephine had been able to bring about such a strong recovery. No, all Georgina cared about was her own safety and her own health. She had not even asked after his own health, had not once considered to see how he fared in all of this! Compared to Josephine, who so often sought him out simply to ask how he was feeling so that she might assist him in any way she could, Georgina’s selfishness burned brightly.

It burned away his thoughts of marrying her, realizing that he could not do so now. Not when it was so clear that she felt very little for him, and he felt nothing for her. Gideon knew it had been the express wish of his father that he marry Georgina, but in this, he would have to fail in his duty. He could not wed someone so cold, so uncaring. To be bound to her for life would be nothing more than torturous. Even the thought of bringing children into such a union sent a cold shiver down his spine, for he did not think that Georgina would be a caring mother.

Josephine, however.....

His eyes shot open. Josephine? Was he truly considering having Josephine as his wife, when she was nothing more than a woman taken from the London streets?

Why should that matter?

The quiet voice niggled at him, forcing him to question everything he knew, everything he had once believed about marriage and suitability. Josephine did not come from a noble background or good family, and certainly did not have any sort of dowry to come with her – but she was good and kind, caring and loving, strong and determined. She gave of herself until there was almost nothing left, working hard and striving continuously for others. Did it matter who her family had been? Did it matter to his heart whether or not she was gentry?

Gideon closed his eyes again, a long breath escaping him. No, it ought not to matter. It ought not to send him into such a dizzying conflict to admit that he found his heart considering the lady more and more each day and yet the struggle still remained.

Josephine was not of his class, not of his ilk, and that expectation still weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was a baron, with responsibilities of all sorts, and Josephine would not know or understand what such a life was like. That being said, she did speak wonderfully well, thanks to the housekeeper who had taken such an interest in her. He could not fault her in that but still, there were so many other things that she would need to learn.

“But could you not teach her?” he muttered aloud, as if trying to convince himself. “Could you not show her, just as she has shown you so many things?”

His lips slowly began to curve into a smile, his body relaxing slowly against the stable wall. Yes, he could teach her what a life here was like. Yes, he could show her the responsibilities expected of a baron, just as she had taught him now to cook a simple meal, or how to mix up the medicine required for his mother and sister. She had taught him so much already and he had taken her tuition eagerly. Mayhap it was time for her to learn something new also.

“Class be damned,” he said aloud, pushing himself up from the stable wall. He would not allow his accident of birth to set them both apart. One could not choose where one was born. He was a baron, and she the daughter of a laborer, with no-one else left in the world, and yet Gideon knew he could not be parted from her. He could not let her disappear into the ether never to be a part of his life again. Such a thought brought him a searing pain in his heart, a pain he did not ever want to truly experience. Josephine was in his heart now and he did not think that she would ever truly leave it.

“Here you are, my lord.”

Gideon made to stand away from the wall, only for a rush of heat to pour over him, forcing him to stagger back, one hand over his eyes. The stable hand grasped his arm, supporting him for a moment until the heat dissipated from Gideon’s bones.

“I am quite all right,” Gideon muttered, not quite sure what had just occurred. “I think it must be the exhaustion of the last few days creeping up on me.”

The stable hand nodded, looking a little concerned. “If you are quite sure, my lord.”

“Quite,” Gideon replied, feeling much more like himself again. “Thank you.” He mounted Hunter easily, strength returning to him. “I’ll be an hour or so, I should think.”

The stable hand nodded and Gideon pushed Hunter into a fast trot, letting the cool air brush over his face as he rode. His breath caught as he saw Josephine wander along one of the many paths that led through the estate gardens, seeing her idly letting her hand trail through some long grasses. Even if he had tried, Gideon knew he could not keep away from her.

“Josephine!”

Turning at once, her eyes registered surprise for a moment before a welcoming smile tugged at her lips. Gideon found himself smiling back, his heart quickening just a little.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Josephine smiled, as he jumped down from his horse to stand beside her. “A fine afternoon for a ride, it seems!”

He chuckled. “Indeed. I confess I have missed riding these last weeks.” Tipping his head, he looked at her for a moment. “Do you enjoy such things?”

She laughed, although her cheeks darkened with color. “My lord, you forget. I am nothing more than a lowly maid and the daughter of a laborer. I confess that riding a horse is not something I have often been used to.”

An idea caught at his mind. “Then should you like me to show you?”

Her eyes widened for a moment. “My lord, I do not think...”

“Come here,” he chuckled, grasping her lightly around the waist and leading her towards Hunter, who was happily munching the lush green grass of his lawn which, of late, had not been as well maintained. His body grew warm with the closeness of her, seeing her flushed cheeks and hearing the quickening of her breath. When she glanced up at him, he felt his own breath catch in his chest, finding himself captivated by her green eyes. She was beautiful, in both face and in character, and he could not help but be drawn to her.

“Let me help you, Josephine,” he murmured, as they drew near to the horse. “Do not be afraid.”

Her hands rested on his forearms. “I am not afraid,” she replied, her voice a little higher than before, making him chuckle. “But you will lead him, won’t you?” She eyed Hunter a little suspiciously, taking in his large size.

“Of course I will,” he promised, holding her about the waist with two hands for a moment, before lifting her up into the saddle.

Josephine let out a small shriek, before grasping onto the pommel with both hands.

“You are not going to fall,” he assured her, a smile spreading across his face as she let out a long breath, steadying herself. “Hunter is an easy horse, despite his stature. Come, let us walk towards the lake.”

Josephine gave a jerky nod, her eyes fixed on his face. “Just so long as you go slowly,” she said quietly, her fingers white on the saddle.

He chuckled. “I will,” he promised. “But by the time we reach there, I am quite sure you will be much more at ease.”

––––––––

The lake was beautiful today. The sunshine, though it was dim, bounced off the water, seeming to sparkle as they approached. Josephine was no longer desperately clinging to the pommel but had let go and was now loosely holding the reins, sitting up a little straighter. It made him glad to see it, smiling at her as she let out a small sigh of contentment.

“You see?” he said, as they came closer to the water. “You have the ability to ride, Josephine. You just need a little more practice.”

She smiled at him as he held out his arms to her, ready to help her down. Hunter was already busy eating the grass, clearly ignoring the two of them as he ate. Josephine twisted her body a little and leaned down into him, only to let out a small cry as she half-fell out of the saddle.

“I have you!” he laughed, catching her carefully and setting her down. “That is one thing about Hunter I will say – he can appear to be rather high off the ground!”

Josephine did not laugh but rested her head on his chest for a moment, her feet only just touching the ground. “Goodness,” she breathed. “I think if I was ever to ride myself, I would need a much smaller horse.”

“That is true,” Gideon admitted, his mind suddenly full of the idea. If Josephine were to remain here with him, then he could help her choose her own mare, making sure to find one that was gentle enough for her to learn to ride. “I think, mayhap, Josephine, that is a very good idea.”

Slowly, her head rose and her eyes met his. Confusion filled her expression as he let his fingers brush down her cheek, astonished by just how much he felt by a simple touch.

“Lord Dunstable,” Josephine murmured, her cheeks dusting with pink. “I –”

“Dunstable, please,” he interrupted, hating the formality. “We are beyond propriety I think, Josephine.” His throat began to ache and he cleared it, grimacing as he did so. He had not expected such a close interaction with Josephine to bring him such sensations.

Josephine frowned. “Dunstable, are you quite well?”

He smiled. “More than well,” he stated, firmly. “I have considered a good many things of late, Josephine and the truth is that I do not wish you to go from my life. I cannot bear the thought of you returning to London.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened but she said nothing.

“I – I confess that these feelings are rather new to me,” he stammered, feeling himself a little embarrassed. “I do not quite know what to do or say to you but one thing I do know.....I do not want you to leave.”

Her cheeks darkened all the more. “I will not stay to be your – your –” Looking away, he saw her eyes spark with a faint glitter of anger and realized what she thought he meant.

“No, Josephine,” he said firmly, catching a hold of her chin and looking deeply into her eyes. “Never as that. Never as that. I would not ask you to be my mistress, Josephine. I hold you in much too high a regard.”

As he spoke, he saw her whole body relax, her anger fading away to be replaced with something like astonishment. Gideon realized that she had not stepped away from him, that she had not immediately rejected the proposition, feeling his heart rise with gladness that she was, in fact, still in his arms. Slowly, so slowly, her hands lifted to his chest, resting there with a tentativeness that had him drawing in a shaking breath. There was so much vulnerability, so much uncertainty and yet nothing changed what he felt in his heart.

“Josephine, I....” Another wave of weakness ran through him and he closed his eyes, unable to finish the sentence.

“Dunstable?” Josephine said, her hands now on his shoulders as her voice rang with concern.

He shook it away. “I am quite all right,” he said, with a good deal less firmness than he had intended. “Truly, I am. This is all just a little overwhelming.” Opening his eyes, he looked down at her, his eyes flickering to her lips. The urge to kiss her was growing steadily with every moment that passed, the awareness that they were quite alone only adding to that.

What about Georgina?

A wave of guilt rushed over him. He had decided not to marry Georgina, yes, but he had not, as yet, spoken to her about the matter. He had not told her that their engagement was at an end and yet here he was with another lady in his arms. That was not right. He ought to speak to Georgina first before he allowed himself to confess his feelings to Josephine. There was a responsibility still towards Georgina and as much as he wanted to lower his head and kiss Josephine with all the deep affection he felt, Gideon knew he could not.

“Perhaps we should return to the house,” he said thickly, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I should not like anyone to question your integrity, Josephine – nor mine, for that matter.”

She frowned, stepping away from him. “I don’t understand, Dunstable.”

He tried to explain without mentioning Georgina, his guilt turning to shame. “I should not like to have the servants questioning your reputation, Josephine,” he stammered, trying to find some kind of excuse for his sudden coolness. “There are things I must make sense of, things I must first understand before I can give you all of myself.”

Her eyes watched him with an intensity that felt as though his chest had been ripped open and his heart tugged apart for her to scrutinize. His breathing quickened and he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling the sweat beading there. Suddenly, he felt rather ill.

“Josephine, I –”

Stumbling, he tried to move towards her but found his legs wobbling. She gasped and darted forward, catching him in her arms and supporting him with every bit of strength she had.

“You are unwell, Dunstable,” Josephine gasped, holding him upright as she tried to help him move towards Hunter. “We must get back to the house. Can you pull yourself up onto Hunter?”

His vision was blurring as he looked at his horse, a little unsure how he was meant to climb up onto such a great height. His whole body was tired, weakness tugging at him as he put one foot wearily into the stirrup.

How he managed to get up onto the saddle, Gideon could not be sure. His head was growing painful, his throat aching as Josephine picked up the reins and, casting him a worried glance, began to walk hastily back towards the house. Hunter seemed to understand the urgency, breaking into a trot as they neared the stables.

“Hold on, my lord,” he heard Josephine say, as the stable hand came out to greet them both. “We will have you in bed and resting very soon. You need not worry. I will look after you.”

His voice was thick, his words rasping from a suddenly painful throat. “Josephine,” he said, somehow finding himself on the ground, supported by the stable hand and a groomsman who had appeared from nowhere.

She took his hand for a moment, her smile a little uncertain. “I will take care of you, my lord,” she promised, as they moved towards the house. “Do not fear. You will recover from the fever soon.”

“The fever,” he muttered, thickly. “So that’s what it is. I have the fever.”

Then everything went dark.