Josephine struggled to keep up with Henry's long stride. Having moped around for weeks, sudden shortness of breath had Josephine regretting her newfound laziness.

"Do slow down!" she chided Henry. Any faster and she would be greeting the visitors long after Henry reached them. Considering she wasn't keen on company in the first place, Josephine wanted Henry at her side. He was nearly as chatty as she, so Josephine could depend upon him to monopolize any conversation. And heaven only knows who Cousin John brought with him. In her current mental state, the idea of conversing with a stranger was enough to set her hair ablaze.

"When did you become such a weakling? You know, too much time with my sister can do that to a person," he retorted, all the while complying to her command.

Their rush now dulled to a comfortable pace, Josephine huffed, "I have seen lookout towers shorter than you, thus I think you lose all rights to determine the speed with which I should walk."

"And I have seen stumps taller than you, so let us agree we are both ill-qualified."

Minds no longer settled on walking, they simultaneously asked:

"Who do you think Morley has brought?"
"Who do you think John..."

Henry took the lead in answering. "Your guess is as good as mine."

She shrugged. "Whomever it is, I hope they do not plan on visiting long."

Josephine couldn't hide her surprised confusion when the man standing beside her cousin came into view. Off all the visitors Josephine had conjured up on the walk back to the house, he had never crossed her mind. Have they always known her cousin?

Squinting at the familiar man. "Lord Grimsby? What on earth are you doing here?" came her unfiltered response.

Grimsby grinned as cousin John cleared his throat, scolding, "Josie, is that how you greet all your guests whom have traveled a great distance to see you?"

Too see her? Her mind was reeling. Firing off question after unanswered question.

Grimsby hadn't taken offense to her greeting, but she darted a brief curtsy for appeasement's sake. Grimsby's presence was a complete mystery, and although welcome, Josephine was impatient to end pleasantries.

Once they were seated in the drawing room sipping on freshly served tea, Josephine wasted no time turning a pleading eye upon Grimsby. He grasped her meaning, and graciously asked Josephine to play a game of chess. Henry and John exchanged a curious look, while Elise and Ms. Pendy feigned interest in their tea.

Josephine didn't care what any of them thought. Or how obvious it was. Grimsby's sudden appearance had everything to do with Tennyson. Ignorant of whether he brought good news or bad, her stomach churned. Clasping shaking hands into her lap, she didn't even bother moving a pawn before diving in head first.

"Did he send you here?" No need to specify who 'he' was.

Grimsby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The man always wore a smile but his body signaled bad news, his eyes warned bad news, and so Josephine braced herself for bad news.

"No. I sent myself."

A swift kick to her chest. Josephine glanced out the window beside them. Tennyson hadn't sent his friend. Grimsby was here of his own volition. Maybe it really was over.

Grimsby eyed her side of the board, and when Josephine made no attempt at playing, he led with his black knight.

Silence.

Her silence was louder than anything Grimsby needed to hear. She was a women deep in love and he could see her shattering before his very eyes. Grimsby had made the right decision by coming.

"Since you will not ask the question that is dancing about in that pretty head of yours, I will ask it for you." He took a slow sip of tea. "Why would I send myself, you ask? That is an extraordinary question, Miss Yorke. One I am still trying to reconcile with." Grimsby had her full attention. A morsel of information could fill her starved stomach. Simply hearing Tennyson was alive and well. Anything. She would devour.

He continued, "Tennyson has saved me on more than one occasion. I consider my presence here a repayment of sorts. A helping hand to an otherwise helpless man. And you, Miss Yorke, are the currency."

She furrowed her brows. "I do not understand. I am not..."

"He needs you," Grimsby cut in.

Josephine shook her head, and looked Grimsby square on. "Did he tell you so? Did Tennyson say he needed me?" She tried to not let her hopes rise, and cursed her optimistic nature, because Grimsby's admission had sent her soaring.

"No. Actually, he told me quite the opposite."

And just like that she was crashing to the ground. Lifeless. Hopeless.

Grimsby noted the similarities between her downcast expression and the one Tennyson wore when they last spoke. Cut from the same lugubrious cloth. Grimsby was their last hope. Cartwright was too submissive, and Isabella too young and afraid. Miss Yorke and Tennyson's reconciliation fell to his lot. And Grimsby wasn't one for failure. Especially after failing to secure Tennyson's inheritance. He refused to let his friend down a second time.

Grimsby huddled closer to the chessboard. "I did not come here to rub salt into your wounds. Rather, I am determined to fix what has been broken. Did Tennyson say it was over? Yes. But did he mean it? Absolutely not! Tennyson is terrified. Of you...for you. He is willing to accept defeat and lie to himself."

"But his letter said..."

"Forget his ludicrous letter! A bunch of nonsense. It is not worth the paper it is written upon." He was surprised Josephine had been so easily convinced, but then again, Tennyson was adept at pushing people away. "You are not the only one he has recently abandoned. He has been avoiding me at all costs. Dinner parties. Balls. To Tennyson, I am persona non grata. And I suspect his father to blame for both our banishments. But if you stay here, Horace Tennyson wins, which I cannot abide. I came here to bring you back to London. Will you come?"

Back to London? What did Grimsby think that would accomplish? If Tennyson could so easily ignore his friend, surely he would ignore her as well. And she wasn't so sure Grimsby was right. Perhaps Tennyson did care for her, but if his attachment wasn't strong enough to dismiss his father's plans, did Josephine really want a half-hearted husband? She was stuck between mud or muck. Both paths would leave her covered in dirt. But one would leave her with less regrets.

"If you want me back in London, I will need my father's permission."

"Already done. You can thank Morley for that."

Josephine's eyes darted to her cousin, her brow furrowing. He returned it with a slow grin. Of all the scheming schemers! She wondered what else they had already arranged behind her back. She would find out soon enough.

Grimsby enlightened her on their plan, sparing little to no detail. She listened with overt skepticism, but kept her comments to a minimum. What did she have to lose? Her father's financial situation was still only whispered rumors. And Mr. Yorke had given Morley his permission. If they were so destitute, wouldn't her father have denied such a trip? A stay in London being no paltry sum. And like Grimsby, Josephine couldn't tolerate a Horace Tennyson victory. Especially at the expense of his son's happiness. That is, if Tennyson did indeed love her.

Grimsby and John had arranged everything. Both gentleman would accompany her first thing in the morning. Her only task would be to pack for London. Lord and Lady Cavender had eagerly agreed to Josephine staying with them, even though Constance would be staying behind this time. Grimsby handed her a sweet letter with Lady Cavender's distinct scrawl, outlining all the misadventures she hoped they would share once Josephine arrived on High Street.

Twists of anticipation rattled Josephine's nerves as she climbed into Grimsby's waiting carriage the following morning. Morley gave her a reassuring smile while she smoothed out her skirts. Grimsby took a more direct approach, reminding her why she was going back in the first place.

"At worst, you leave London still heartbroken." Grimsby tapped his hat upon his knee. "At best? You save Tennyson from making the worst mistake of his life. And the middle ground? You leave heartbroken but have reminded him exactly what he has given up."

A small smile ghosted Josephine's lips. She didn't like her odds but was up for the gamble. Her cousin and Grimsby had made it almost impossible to say no. Plus, she loved Tennyson. She had to try.

The only person with doubts was Henry. But he encouraged Josephine to give it a last ditch effort, with the promise that if things didn't work out, she would accept it and happily move forward. Josephine promised Henry she would.

I really hope this works.

She didn't want to be a liar.

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Another chapter down! You guys still into the story? Or too much drama?
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