Josephine was the oldest daughter, and was tired of being the most responsible one. She preferred to spend her life with books than with most people—except her family, of course. Unfortunately, one book she was all too familiar with detailed the finances of the Carstairs estate. She knew its failing condition better than anyone, save perhaps Mama. The five of them could have scrimped and kept the house going for about a year longer before the money simply ran out. Only a marriage or two would keep the lands out of the hands of the creditors. Though she cared deeply for Edward Dominic, despite his occasional lapses into idiocy when discussing history, she was quite disappointed in him. Over the last few years, she had honestly expected him to speak to Papa, or more recently, to Mama.

            In fact, several times she had believed he was about to do so, only to disappear for a month or so. A man with such an obvious case of cold feet should think himself lucky to be invited tonight, let alone receive any real consideration.

            She knew she cut a stately figure for this ball, as she was the tallest of her sisters, and had allowed her thick chestnut hair to be properly styled for once, instead of tied out of the way. As the oldest, she was the most likely of the four sisters to receive a serious offer of marriage. Josephine heartily disliked selling herself in this manner, but she hated the idea of her mother and sisters struggling in a set of rooms even worse. If Edward did not speak tonight, he would have to take his chances.

            Josephine’s dance card was full tonight, but she was rapidly becoming bored with the intellectual level of her partners. The occasional older gentleman usually had more to talk about, but most of them were not available for marriage unless she wished step-children near her own age. I am not looking forward to the dance after dinner with Edward, she thought as she stepped through the patterns of one reel. I fear I will have to be blunt with him, as he does not appear to understand my impatience. I can endure a long engagement if I must, especially if he is involved with the war effort. If I have expectations, our creditors will hold off much longer. However, I must find out from him what he truly wants.

            Till then she knew she had to endure the oafs, and a poverty-stricken vicar who was looking for a new mother for his orphaned children. She feigned deafness with one subaltern, whose offer did not seem to include a ring, though she delighted in accidentally stepping on his toe when he appeared to want to inspect the merchandise too closely for comfort.

            After that dance, she was tempted to sit in an alcove and read the small book in her reticule between dances rather than suffer watered lemonade and chinless wonders. Edward, damn you! This is all your fault! A great pity he did not seem to be here for her to tell him so.

If Josephine gives into this temptation, click here.

If Josephine stoutly endures the social whirl, click here.

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If you want to exit the game--please click here.