“I like an honest woman.”
“Then let me be blatantly honest with you, sir. You are without a doubt the most conceited man I have ever met.” She did not add that he was also the most handsome and certainly had good cause to be full of himself. “I have watched you all evening—”
“Why, thank you, Miss Mandeville. I had not dared to hope that someone like you would be attracted to someone like me.” He made a deep courtier’s bow.
“You, sir, are not the kind of man I would ever be attracted to. Besides, I do not have half the fortune you need, so you may as well move on in search of a more lucrative conquest.”
She straightened her gloves and adjusted her spectacles. When he did not walk away, she found herself fighting a smile as she surveyed the room. He was a great challenge, indeed.
Then she said, “Do you see Mrs. Sutton’s daughter across the room beside that urn? She has just turned eighteen. I can assure you that she is quite wealthy and sweetly submissive. Not only that, but she has been gazing at you all evening.”
“With which eye?”
A bawdy laugh escaped Janelle before she could help it. She pressed her gloved hand to her lips.
“I like you, Janelle Mandeville. And here I was beginning to think that your sister was the only breath of fresh air in the room. Do you know that at supper she told me, and everyone within earshot, that she is a far better dancer without clothes?”
Janelle laughed again and grudgingly admitted to herself that his reputation was well deserved. Rake or not, he was definitely charming. She could not help but like him.
“After many terrible days of assaulting her instructor’s toes, my sister was convinced that she was going to maim every man who danced with her tonight.”
Janelle watched Garr’s interested gaze swing around to Joya and she suddenly sobered.
“Stay away from my sister, Garr. She is no match for you.”
“If you are worried about my pursuing your sister, don’t be. I find you far more desirable, softer on the outside but possessed of an inner strength and quick wit.” He took a step closer. “You must be excited about attracting my uncle’s patronage. He has not been this enthusiastic about discovering a new artist for a long, long time.”
“If you must know the absolute truth, I am a bit nervous.”
“Why?”
“I have not had many people acknowledge my work. Grandmother has virtually ignored it for she finds it a sore point. Trevor humors me. But Cecily has always been encouraging. I hope my paintings are worthy of your uncle’s praise and support.”
“Believe me when I say that I like you, Janelle Mandeville. Now I see that you have no airs or pretense, either. May I call on you tomorrow?”
“No, you may not. There is no use for it. That would be a great waste of time that you could spend on a more receptive quarry.”
The sound of Garr’s quick, deep laughter was as intoxicating as the sight of him. Janelle warned herself not to be taken in by his dark, seductive eyes. She tried to concentrate on Joya, who was dancing with a young married gentleman. With every turn, her sister scanned the room looking for Trevor.
Janelle saw her brother deep in the shadows near the back wall, where he could watch Joya dance without drawing attention to himself.
“What is going on in that mind of yours?” Garr wanted to know.
“Dance with my sister,” she said, suddenly inspired.
He frowned. “You just told me to stay away from her. Besides, she does not fascinate me the way you do.”
Janelle faced him squarely. “You misunderstand me. I would not let you marry my sister if you were the last bachelor on earth.”
“Then why have me dance with her?”
“Humor me, please. The very next dance.”
He was watching her carefully. She knew he was trying to discern the motive behind her request.
“I’ll do it, but only because you ask.” Finally, Garr left her side. She watched him make his way through the crowd around the edge of the dance floor.
When the music ended, Garr walked up to Joya and made a polite bow. Janelle held her breath until her sister accepted and Garr led her onto the dance floor, then she threaded her way through the guests and walked up to Trevor.
“It appears Grandmama’s party is quite a success.” She reached around him to take a glass of champagne off a tray as a footman passed by.
“Who is that dancing with Joya?”
She pretended not to be able to see her sister for a moment or two. “Oh, him. That is Mr. Garr Remington, nephew of Viscount Arthur, my art patron. He is looking for a wife.”
“He is looking in the wrong place.”
She quickly took a sip to hide her smile. A dark frown marred Trevor’s brow. Janelle cleared her throat.
“That’s just what I told him earlier, but he could not take his eyes off her. Actually, he was just asking me all about her. I hope I can keep her from being swept off her feet. After all, he is the handsomest man in the room. Cecily says he is quite the rake, though.” Unable to resist, she dared to glance up at her brother. “Why, Trevor, what’s wrong? You look absolutely green.”
Without a word, he handed her his empty glass and plunged into the crowd.
* * *
Trevor watched Joya waltz by in Garr Remington’s arms and execute a perfect turn. When she smiled up at the man and said something that made Remington throw back his head and laugh, Trevor skirted the dancers and walked into the middle of the dance floor, blocking their way, forcing Remington to abruptly stop.
“Trevor!” Joya beamed up at him. “I haven’t stepped on anyone for two hours.”
“Good evening, Mandeville.” Remington smiled and bowed grandly.
So nicely, in fact, that Trevor wanted to smash his fist into the man’s even white teeth. He mentally chastised himself, and tried to regain some semblance of calm.
“Mr. Remington. I am going to dance with Miss Penn.”
“Most certainly.”
When Remington bowed and gave Joya over to him without argument, Trevor was surprised. He had expected more of an argument.
Once Trevor had Joya in his arms, he realized his great mistake in giving in to the first bout of jealousy he had ever suffered. To make matters worse, this was his third dance of the evening with Joya. Once more he had overstepped the bounds of propriety.
Thankfully, she had no idea that three dances denoted serious interest. He was certain there were others in the room who took note, but now there was nothing he could do but finish the dance.
That and hope that this insufferable inability to control his emotions was only temporary.
Chapter Nineteen
It was almost noon the next day when Joya found herself going down to breakfast. Because the party had not ended until well past two in the morning, she, like the rest of the household, had slept late.
Refreshed after a good night’s sleep, she hovered between euphoria and melancholy. Dancing with Trevor had been wonderful. Her discussion with him in the conservatory before the affair had been devastating.
Knowing that he would be leaving London soon made her miserable. She could not take her mind off him any more than she could last night. She had tried desperately not to let him know she was watching him, all the time wondering what she could say or do to make him either stay in London or take her with him.
He seemed to be in a dark mood all evening, alone even while surrounded by a houseful of family, friends, and business acquaintances. She suspected that concern over business was what had kept him so pent-up all evening. During their last dance, he had barely spoken two words to her.
She was looking forward to Janelle lightening her mood and was happy to find her sister beaming when she entered the breakfast room. Adelaide was there as well.
Joya greeted both women and went to fill a plate with ham, eggs, toast, and grilled tomatoes from an array of dishes on the sideboard. Behind her, a discussion of the success of the
past evening’s affair was going on. Even Adelaide, usually dour in the morning, was in a fine mood.
Joya had no sooner sat down beside Janelle than Sims appeared in the doorway.
“Excuse me, madam, but there have been quite a few gentlemen stopping by already this morning to leave calling cards.”
Adelaide was watching him with her fork paused in midair. “Sims, why are you continually scratching your shirtfront? It has become an annoying, not to mention disgusting habit with you.”
“Begging your pardon, but I itch, madam.”
Joya smiled up at him. “How are your joints, Sims?”
“Much better, thank you, miss.” He immediately started scratching again. “Well worth the rest of it.”
“The rest of what, Sims?” Janelle wanted to know.
“The itching.”
“Sims!” Adelaide laid down her fork and blotted the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
“Yes, madam?”
“You said gentlemen have already called?”
“Yes, madam. Quite a number of them wish to visit with Miss Penn. There was one asking after Miss Mandeville, as well.”
Janelle’s fork clattered loudly against her plate. Her complexion blazed.
“You two were such a success last night that I took the liberty to plan another, more intimate, social gathering,” Adelaide announced.
“What?” Janelle, still stunned by Sims’s announcement, turned to her grandmother. “What kind of social gathering?”
“Will I have to learn more dances? Or wear another corset and crinoline and stockings?” Joya was horrified to be faced with the prospect of such torture again so soon.
Adelaide sobered. “No more dancing. And I do not appreciate discussing undergarments at the table. Janelle, you look as if you are about to be ill. What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, Grandmama.”
There was something wrong. Janelle’s voice was barely audible. Joya felt her sister’s anxiety as if it were her own. She could not wait to speak to Janelle alone.
Adelaide, though, took Janelle at her word. “Good, because I have planned a country outing for day after tomorrow.”
“You are going outside?” Joya had yet to see Adelaide leave the house, so she was shocked at the very notion of the woman planning an outing. Janelle was obviously as surprised.
Adelaide ignored the comment and blotted her lips with her napkin. “I thought that a day at the old Oates estate might be in order. A wonderful day with a grand picnic and perhaps some games. I plan to invite a few of the locals to add color. You, Joya, should see the property that once belonged to your parents. I am sure, Janelle, that you would have thought of this before summer was over. We can enjoy the old place and share the day with friends.”
“Which friends, Grandmama?” Janelle sat back in her chair, her eggs growing cold.
“I have already spoken to Trevor, but of course he cannot be there. Too many things to attend to before his voyage, you understand, but I’ll invite some young people to come along and perhaps even your friend Cecily can join us.”
Joya wondered why Janelle was so surprised by Adelaide’s generous offer. Her own joy was tempered, for if Trevor was not there, she would spend the day wishing it otherwise.
Adelaide tossed her napkin on the table. “It will be a wonderful day. I’ve much planning to attend to, so I will leave you two alone. Besides, I am curious to see which gentlemen you two have impressed so much that they have already returned.”
Joya waited until Adelaide was out of the room before she turned to her twin. “Why are you so worried?”
“Grandmama does nothing without motive. I’m wondering what she might be up to.”
“Perhaps she just wants to go outdoors,” Joya offered.
Janelle shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why did Sims’s announcement upset you?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he said that a gentleman called for you and left his card, you turned all red and dropped your fork. Even if I did not feel it too, I can see by the look on your face that you are still upset. For no reason, my stomach feels very jumpy. More, even, than Monsieur Renault’s little dog.”
Janelle glanced over at the door and then leaned across the table. Joya leaned in toward her sister.
“I am afraid that the one man at the entire gathering that I should heartily detest has come calling on me. His name is Garr Remington.”
Joya was well aware of who Garr Remington was. She would have had to be blind not to have remembered him.
“The big one. Handsome, like Trevor, although I find him not half as delicious. I danced with him once, that is until Trevor wanted to dance with me. Mr. Remington was very polite and said that he did not mind. I don’t know why Trevor even bothered. He was in a very dark mood.”
Janelle’s face lit up with a smile. “Why don’t we go upstairs and see if you have something appropriate to wear for a garden party?”
* * *
Joya loved the old Oates manor house on sight, not only because it was in the open where she could see the sky and walk through soft green grass and listen to birdsong again, but because it was so completely different from Mandeville House and the other soot-covered, brick- and-stone buildings crowded together on the streets of London.
It was a vine-covered, three-story dwelling that reminded her a little of her home on Matarenga. The house was still friendly and welcoming even though the roof had fallen in on some of the rooms and doves had taken up residence in the corners and eaves of the parlor. There was a sense of belonging, a spirit that lingered and made it seem a warm and happy place, despite the fact that the sky showed through the ceiling here and there.
Generations had no doubt taken joy in the place. Knowing that her true parents had once owned the house and loved it, that they had visited here and perhaps dreamed of making it livable, made it even more valuable in Joya’s eyes.
She left the others seated around the remains of a picnic spread on fine linen on the lawn and walked around to the front of the building, wondering how much money would it take to rebuild the old house? Her father had told her she had funds in her English account, enough for whatever she needed. Did she have enough to put this house that Osmond and Stephanie Oates so loved back together?
While talking to Janelle earlier, Joya had learned that her sister dreamed of doing just that, but she had said that only time and money stood in her way. Joya knew that she, herself, had an abundance of money in the account her father had mentioned. But how long would she be staying in England?
She sighed and walked over to a tangled, climbing rosebush draped over a low garden wall. She carefully plucked an unfolding, pale pink bud and inhaled the rich fragrance. Everyone had been so kind to her this afternoon—Cecily and Viscount Arthur; Garr Remington; the vicar and his wife; and the accountant, Jamison Roth. Even Mrs. Sutton and her daughter, Penelope, who had been Trevor’s plump dance partner.
Eventually, the conversation around her turned to political and social events that confused and bored her. She had no knowledge of such things. After luncheon, she decided to walk along the stone path that wound its way around the house to enjoy a few moments alone.
Her solitude was short-lived. She heard footsteps on the stone path behind her. Jamison Roth came strolling up to her, alone, smiling.
“Miss Penn. How nice to find you here. I was thinking that a walk to the old millhouse down by the stream would be quite enjoyable. Your company would make it even more delightful. Will you come?”
The others were lingering beside the picnic, some sipping wine, others watching an occasional, billowing white cloud drift across the open, deep blue sky. Janelle was laughing at something Garr Remington had just said. The pair seemed quite content together.
All morning Janelle had been by her side, showing her the house, making certain she was warm enough, asking if she was enjoying herself. Perhaps if she took the time to go wa
lking with Roth, her sister might relax and, if Janelle got to know Garr Remington better, she would change her mind about him.
Joya turned to Roth and used a phrase she had heard the vicar’s wife say over a hundred times that morning.
“Why, that would be simply delightful!”
Roth appeared much relieved and offered her his arm. Joya took it and felt nothing when she touched him. Again she sighed. Again she told herself not to dwell on Trevor. His mind was made up. He was leaving for Venezuela. Even if he were to stay in London, he had made it abundantly clear he wanted no relationship with her beyond one of friendship.
Sad inside, she lifted her face to the sun. Despite Adelaide’s dire warnings against burning her skin now that it was paler, Joya drank in the familiar warmth, enjoying it as she might have enjoyed a hug from an old friend.
“Here we are,” Roth said when they reached an abandoned stone millhouse beside a flowing stream. “There is a wonderful old grindstone inside.”
“It’s lovely,” she said absently, her thoughts were on Trevor.
“Shall we go inside?” Roth smiled his mule-faced smile.
Joya shrugged. “Why not?”
* * *
Janelle looked into the charming face of Garr Remington and wished Joya had brought along a Matarengi potion that would quench his enthusiasm. The heated way he was watching her, coupled with his casual attempts to move closer, to brush against her as he reclined upon the picnic cloth and stretch out beside her, left her uneasy—for each time he touched her, she realized she wanted more.
As she gazed down into Remington’s beautiful dark eyes, she reminded herself that this was certainly not the kind of man she should even be considering. He was too handsome, too experienced, too desperate for money. How could she ever expect him to be sincere? Or faithful?
Suddenly, she shivered, as if a dark cloud had passed over the sun, but the day was still perfectly fair with a light breeze. There was not a threatening cloud in sight.
The Orchid Hunter Page 17
