CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Very early the following morning, Josephine climbed up to the attic. It wasn’t even seven o’clock. She was overwhelmed by the number of items stored in such minimal space. The attic did not cover the entire house but only stretched to halfway across the width of the structure. There were literally hundreds of boxes, most of them with her uncle’s handwriting on them, marking them with specific items.

Then there were a number of old-fashioned trunks. They had no markings, which meant she would have to sort through each by hand in her quest to find her mother’s wedding gown. He had informed her over morning tea and toast of his certainty that the wedding dress was packed away between layers of tissue paper and laid carefully in one of the trunks, along with the veil her mother had so gracefully worn, and even the bouquet of flowers, now dried into a nosegay of shriveled petals, wrapped in a separate, small box. Josephine was absolutely thrilled at the idea of being able to wed Win in the same gown her beloved mother had worn the day she married George Chambers.

She spent the majority of an hour in the dusty loft, pawing through literally hundreds of items. It was quite clear that her mother had been one who hated to part with treasures from her past. Finally, Josephine came upon a frock, tucked among several pieces of white tissue paper. The dress! There was simply nothing else it could be. She lifted the gown carefully from the truck, removing the tissue. Yes, there it was. Even after all the years it had been tucked away from the eyes of the world, the dress was in superb condition. Josephine instantly fell in love—with its design, its fabric, and with its simple example of excellent taste in fashion. She immediately shed the dress she was wearing and slipped the gorgeous gown over her head. Amid the myriad of old keepsakes that had been stored in the attic was a very old cheval mirror. She was dying to catch a glimpse of what she would look like in the gown. When she saw her reflection, it was truly beyond her wildest dreams.

Elegant, ivory-colored taffeta with a luscious, pearly sheen peeked out from beneath the loveliest coloured lace, which bore intricate embroidery on the sleeves and skirt hem. The one-piece gown was lightweight and incredibly feminine. Josephine couldn’t imagine who wouldn’t love the sensual whisper the taffeta made as she walked. A unique feature of the dress was the ivory-coloured panels that were gathered at the front waistline to fall gracefully ‘round and down to the lower center back, held in place with a Guipure lace applique. It had center back snaps and hooks for closure.

Josephine was downright amazed that the delectable gown fit her so effortlessly. It might require a bit of alteration in the sleeves, since it appeared that they were a bit longer than her arms, and the same seemed true of the hemline. Josephine was a bit shorter than her mother had been. Though it would be a truly difficult task, she was confident a fine seamstress could accomplish whatever needed to be done. She believed she could have searched the world over and never found such a truly exquisite wedding gown. It meant the world to her to be able to wear the same frock in which her mother had spoken vows. Josephine firmly believed that her mother was able to see what a scrumptious bride she was going to be. She continued wearing the wedding dress, and beneath the layers of tissue paper, she found a slender box. It contained the lace veil, which obviously had been designed to be worn with the gown. It fell to the ground, covering the extensive train. There was absolutely no question in her mind that she would choose to wear her mother’s magnificent dress.

Josephine very carefully made her way back down to the first level, where she excitedly searched for Roderick. Andrew was not at home, and apparently neither was Roderick. It was still so early; she couldn’t imagine where they might be. Probably speaking with the workers in the fields. Josephine had a strong need to show off her discovery. Finally, she came upon their cook in the kitchen. It seemed a bit odd to see the enchanting wedding attire in that particular room, but Josephine simply had an overwhelming desire to display her find. The housekeeper's eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Miss Josephine, I never dreamed I’d ever lay my eyes on that gorgeous gown again. It seems like yesterday I watched your mother walk slowly down the aisle to meet your father at the altar. They were such a beautiful couple and so young.”

Josephine was thrilled with the reaction she had received from the treasured Chambers’ cook. Josephine left the kitchen area and climbed the stairway to the first level with the intention of continuing on to her bedchamber to remove the gown. At that moment, Andrew and Roderick entered the house. They both stopped, looks of awe upon their faces.

“You look spectacular, Josephine. Is that Mother’s wedding gown?” asked Andrew.

“Yes,” she answered, twirling like a ballerina. “Do you think Win will like it?”

“He would have to be insane not to. I think it’s splendid for you to be wearing your mother’s gown. She would be so proud of you,” said Uncle Roderick.

“Thank you. I simply adore it. Amazingly, it fits almost perfectly. It will require very few alterations.”

“Mother was a little bit taller than you are,” Andrew commented.

“Yes. We were very much alike. She was taller, however, so the dress will require shortening. I think Mother would be very happy to know I’ve chosen to wear her gown when I marry Win.”

“She would be extraordinarily happy for you. Oh, my god, I wish both of your parents could be here to witness this happy event,” added her uncle.

“I know. I was thinking the same thing. All mothers must long for the special day they see their daughters walk down the aisle on the arm of the man they love. Life seems so unfair at times.”

“Well, I’ll be there, sweet sister. Unless you want Uncle Roderick to do the honours.”

“I think I’d rather it be you, Andrew. I love you, Uncle Roderick, immensely, but if it can’t be father, I think I’d rather it be my brother.”

“I understand, sweetheart. If you change your mind, I’ll be there. However, I agree it should be Andrew. Just know I’ll be here for you, no matter what,” answered Uncle Roderick.

Josephine gave her brother and uncle giant hugs. “No girl has a more wonderful brother or uncle. I love you both so much. I do hope you find a spectacular lady to be your wife, Andrew. She’s waiting for you somewhere.”

“Yes. I’m certain of that, too. In fact, I’m beginning to think I just may have found her. Time will tell.”

Josephine grabbed her brother’s arm. “Andrew? Who? Please tell. You have never indicated more than a passing interest in any young lady. If you have an interest in someone, please share it with me. After all, if you marry, she’ll become my sister, too.”

“All in good time, my sweet sister. I’ve no idea if there’s the slightest possibility that she has any interest in me.”

“Not interested in you? She would have to be mad,” cried Josephine. “You’re perfect in every way.”

“Ah, but you see, you and I share the same dilemma. I’m not of the aristocracy. You’re fortunate that Win’s parents have accepted you.”

“Andrew, I'm not altogether certain they have accepted me. Especially not his mother. I don't want to lose him. He's threatened to allow Oliver to inherit Winthrop Manor if I don't meet with his mother's approval."

“Not many men would be willing to literally divorce his family and throw away his inheritance for the love of a woman,” Andrew remarked.

“Yes, but you see, Win isn’t like any other man I’ve ever known.” Josephine smiled.

“No, I agree with that. He’s a remarkable man. Perhaps I’ll be as fortunate as you are.”

“You won’t tell me anymore about this mysterious young lady you have your eye upon?”

“Josephine, not yet. She has no idea of my feelings. I think it only fair that she be the first one to understand how I feel."

“Yes, I suppose so,” Josephine answered with a smile. “Still, I’m your only sister. You will promise to tell me if something comes of it, won’t you, Andrew?”

“Absolutely. Now change out of that gorgeous gown before it becomes soiled. I’m going to run into Winthrop-on-Hart. I have a few items I need to purchase. Nothing exciting. The field workers need some better tools. Do you want to accompany me?”

“Are the shops open? It’s just a bit after eight,” she said.

“Yes. Remember, this is a farm village. Shops open early and close early. We’re not in London anymore.” He laughed.

“Of course, I’d love the trip. It’s beautiful outside. I won’t be a tick.” She smiled, turning and scampering up the stairway, holding the gown high above her ankles so as not to trip upon it.

***

A short while later, Andrew brought the small cart around to the front of the cottage. Josephine stood outside the door, ready to be collected. She wore a pale-blue muslin dress that had long sleeves and a pin-tucked bodice. She had no thought of doing any shopping, but it was always nice to accompany Andrew on an outing.

The team of horses trotted along the narrow road leading to the small village, and Josephine admired the lovely landscape as they moved along. Win had been correct back when they’d first met, when he’d spoken of how beautiful summertime was in this part of England. What a wonderful day that had been. She’d had no idea it was to be a watershed moment in her life.

Finally, they reached the outer limits of the village. Andrew parked the cart in a safe place. He lifted her to the ground, and they sauntered into the village of Winthrop-on-Hart. They strolled the pretty walkways and peered into shop windows. Winthrop-on-Hart was quite a small village, but Josephine thought it exceptionally quaint with its cobblestone streets and bowed-window storefronts. As they were standing in front of an exhibit of home furnishings, Oliver Winthrop and the same young woman who’d been with him at the dinner party came ambling down the walkway. They were not a handsome couple. While obviously of the aristocracy, as shown by their dress and the way they carried themselves, neither was particularly attractive. It was interesting how a title and money could overcome such disadvantages. Although Oliver had treated her kindly enough the previous evening, there had been an underlying tone of superiority, and the same thing could be said for Cynthia Wilkins-Young. Josephine was very thankful that she had Andrew with her. He was, and always had been, her protector. Whenever she was with him, she felt so much more secure. She and her brother continued their stroll, her arm through Andrew’s. Andrew either hadn’t noticed Oliver or was purposely ignoring the other couple. Josephine was glad that she had dressed in a becoming frock, and although she wasn’t vain, she was aware that she was an attractive young lady. Though she carried no title, she did do her best to always look poised and impressive.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my distinguished brother’s intended wife,” sneered Oliver, the moment they drew near. "Pardon me… Miss Chambers, is it? I’m still trying to recover from the shock that Win intends to marry beneath himself.”

Josephine gasped. She was more than a little surprised at Oliver’s rude behaviour. Had his decent behaviour the previous evening been nothing more than an act?

“One more word of that sort and I’ll flatten you right here on the high street,” retorted Andrew. “I am Josephine’s brother, and I do not intend to stand here and listen to belittling remarks about my irreplaceable and lovely sister.”

“Ah! I’m simply quivering in my boots, sir. I believe we met yesterday evening as well. Andrew is the name if I’m correct?”

“Yes, you’re correct. And I believe Oliver is your name. If I recall, the lady by your side hyphenates her surname in an attempt to sound more upmarket.”

“Cynthia happens to be the daughter of a baronet. She has been feted splendidly during this latest Season. I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about the Season, since you’re not of the aristocracy.”

“No. We aren’t. But I can assure you that my father undoubtedly paid more in taxes to Great Britain than your father takes into his coffers in a year’s time.”

“My dear fellow, people of good breeding never discuss financial matters,” retorted Oliver.

“No. Not until the time to discuss a dowry. It’s quite interesting how the aristocracy pays to marry off their daughters.” Andrew laughed.

Oliver turned beet red. “What a cheeky, disgusting thing to say. Dowries are a treasured, age-old tradition. You’re implying that gentlemen of the aristocracy sell their daughters to the highest bidder. No doubt, you expect your uncle will pay a dowry for the privilege of Win marrying your sister.”

“Win is an extraordinary chap. Of course, he will do what’s proper. But, I hope you aren’t of the impression that Josephine wouldn’t marry Win if he didn’t have money. She’d marry him if he were a pauper. They are very much in love. Now, you—well, you’re in a different category, aren’t you?” Andrew laughed again. “Love never even enters the equation with unattractive chaps of the aristocracy. I graduated from Oxford. I know the way it works. After a so-called gentleman is wed, he takes a mistress. The wife generally takes a lover.”

Apparently, Andrew had struck a nerve. Cynthia Wilkins-Young had turned scarlet.

“Why, you arsehole! I shan't stand here and listen to any more of this garbage. If you really believe your sister is going to be The Lady Winterdale, you’d better study up on the rules governing the proper guidelines for marriage among the gentry,” Oliver nearly shouted.

“I know them well, Oliver. There is not one thing to stop your brother and Josephine from marrying. I intend to tell your brother every word you’ve spoken. You may live to regret them.”

With that, Andrew and Josephine stepped around the astounded couple and continued their stroll along the high street.

“Andrew! That was the most abominable conversation I’ve ever been witness to. What a truly odious creature Oliver is. How will I cope with being his sister-in-law?”

“Don’t let it be a bother, Josephine. He’s a ridiculous fool. Win and he are nothing alike. I doubt there’s much back and forth between them.”

“I don’t know. I only know I do intend to speak to Win about this encounter. Either his family stops persecuting me because I don’t have a foolish title, or I may reconsider the entire thing. I love Win with all of my heart. Nonetheless, I have no intention of living my life around people with such a complete lack of character.”

“Well, I must say, I can't blame you. I suspect Win will be outraged at his brother’s arrogance. There is nothing whatsoever haughty about Win. I don’t believe Oliver’s behaviour will make Win very happy.”