by Aileen Fish
“A lady would never mention such a thing, nor admit to having lurked in the trees when her brothers and a friend were skinny-dipping,” he argued.
“I was not lurking. I was sketching the hollow tree. You all made such a racket I ran to see what was amiss. Thankfully you were all in the water by the time I arrived, or I might have shocked our art tutor with my advanced anatomy education.”
David had to laugh along with Lady Joanna. Hannah was too bold by half. He decided to take control of the conversation. “Do you draw, Lady Joanna?”
“A little, but not very well. And never studies of the physical form. Although I’ve an entire booklet of horses from our stables.”
He had to drop back when they came into traffic, but he directed them toward less busy streets so they might ride three abreast. “That sounds like a defiant daughter’s excuse to spend more time with her horses.”
She glanced David’s way. “My mother couldn’t understand how deep my passion for them ran. And my brother was certain I’d outgrow my love of riding.”
“As did mine,” Hannah said. “It’s as if we could have no interest whatsoever in horses once we begin to wear our hair up.”
David leaned forward to glare at his sister on the other side of Lady Joanna. He’d neglected to mention he wished to build a friendship with the lady, apparently. “Your demonstrated interest tended toward braiding manes and naming foals. Forgive us for not realizing they included racing contest entries.”
Lady Joanna laughed. “I love all things about the stables.”
“Surely not the odors,” he said.
She reached down and patted Patriot’s neck. “The odors are part of the package. Admittedly, I prefer the sweet smell of alfalfa and fresh straw to the earthier scents of the early morning. But you won’t find me fainting dead away should I step in something whilst crossing the street.”
Lady Joanna was intriguing, he had to admit. She would make an excellent wife for a man who attended race meetings as often as he did. He bit off that thought as soon as the words came to him. He was not looking for a wife. He was looking for the killer of his father’s stallion.
The ladies chattered on with little regard to him being present. This gave him time to notice how gracefully Lady Joanna sat on her mount, as if she’d been born to the saddle. She held her neck and shoulders upright without appearing rigid. Her arms were relaxed on her lap as she held the reins. Her gown complemented her curves, without calling attention to them, although his gaze enjoyed landing there often. She was pleasant to look at, and just as enjoyable to talk to. A very dangerous combination.
As laughter broke out beside him, he wondered if Hannah had once again been poking fun in his direction. He knew better than to ask, for if she hadn’t been, she surely would if prompted.
Lady Joanna peered at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “You’re a man of few words, Mr. Lumley.”
“I’m a man with four sisters. I’ve discovered my voice is unnecessary to keep a conversation going.”
“Surely they allow you to speak now and again.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps they are the reason I spend so much time in the stables.” He couldn’t keep his grin from spreading.
“Lady Joanna, please say you’ll go with me to the lending library tomorrow,” Hannah begged. “We can compare which invitations we have each received and make certain we’ll be at the same assemblies.”
“That sounds delightful. And might I bring my friend Miss Clawson? You will enjoy her company, too, I am certain of it.”
“Yes, of course. I’ve met her and found her quite amiable.”
It dawned on David his presence was not needed for the ladies’ enjoyment. At this rate, he’d never gain an invitation inside Northcotte’s home. His sister was having better success in her offer of friendship. He hoped Hannah would be invited to tea, and he would be sure to tag along.
Chapter Six
Joanna smoothed her hands over the lace overdress of her gown, certain there were wrinkles she couldn’t see in the pink silk beneath it. She glanced once more at the wall behind her, wondering how close one had to stand to be considered a wallflower, or if it was a matter of the length of time she remained in that spot. Admittedly, they’d just arrived at Mrs. Stanford’s ball, and she couldn’t be disappointed that every unmarried gentleman in the room, titled or not, hadn’t swarmed to her side. But she wished at least one would.
“Stop fussing with your gown,” Aunt Ophelia whispered from her side. “You look desperate.”
“What if no one wants to dance with me? I’ll look undesirable, which is much worse than desperate, you must admit.”
“You’re one of the most beautiful young ladies here. One of the prettiest this Season. If a gentleman doesn’t ask you to dance, it’s because he’s afraid you’ll refuse him.”
Joanna smiled and tried to relax her hands. “You are very kind to fib that way. They all know they’ll not be refused a dance unless my card is full. And since no one has approached me, there’s no worry of that.”
Her aunt suddenly gasped. “Oh, dear, not that man.”
Recognizing Lord Westbourne, an older earl with a shocking reputation for scandalous parties at one of his estates, Joanna shared Aunt Ophelia’s shock.
He bowed in greeting. “Lady Ophelia, I’m happy to find you here tonight.”
“How do you do?”
Joanna noticed her aunt didn’t perform an introduction, which was an obvious slight.
“I’m quite well, thank you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you care to take a turn about the room?”
“I’m afraid I can’t leave my niece on her own.”
The lord ran his gaze slowly over Joanna, then licked his lips. Joanna shivered. One side of his mouth turned upward. “Perhaps I should walk with her, instead.”
Aunt Ophelia stretched taller as her back stiffened. “No, you should not. You should look elsewhere for your entertainment.”
He gave a single nod of his head. “Perhaps another night. Enjoy your evening, ladies.” He strolled off.
Joanna watched until he was lost in the crowd. She whispered, “Why is he here?”
“He was invited, I’m certain. Some of the matrons in London will invite all the rakes of their acquaintance in hopes their assemblies will be mentioned in the papers.”
Another man approached, this one a tall, handsome man of middle years. He smiled warmly at her aunt. “Lady Ophelia, how well you look tonight.”
“Sir Jasper, allow me to introduce my niece, Lady Joanna Hurst. Her mother was too ill to attend this evening, so I offered to chaperone her.”
The gentleman nodded to Joanna. “It’s a pleasure. I hope your mother recovers quickly.”
“Thank you.” She shoved aside her own wishes for the same, knowing it could be months before Mama was herself again. She’d had those spells ever since Papa died. Waves of wistfulness washed over Joanna, settling heavily in her middle. Her parents had shared such a deep love. If she could find only half as much in her own marriage, she would consider herself lucky.
The small group of people standing in front of her parted, and that rude friend of Robert’s, Sir Frederick, strode toward Joanna. Her eyes widened as her stomach sank. She willed her feet to remain in place, when all she wanted was to run away. He still hadn’t been formally introduced to her, so he couldn’t be coming to speak to her. Surely not. And if he was, she felt clueless as to how to respond. To acknowledge his lack of propriety would be putting herself on the same level.
He tipped his head and smiled, which made his bushy side-whiskers puff out even more. “Lady Joanna, how delighted I am to see you.”
“Thank you.” For the life of her, she would not return the sentiment, politeness be damned. She looked around, hoping to find someone to rescue her, but aside from her aunt, no one of her acquaintance stood nearby.
“I hoped I might run into you tonight. Your brother mentioned you would be here.”
Robert would do that, discuss her plans with a practical stranger. If she weren’t dependent on his goodwill for a home until she married, she would speak to him the moment she returned.
“Am I early enough to claim the supper dance?” One of his untamed graying eyebrows lifted as he peered down his over-long nose.
Joanna closed her eyes and prayed for help. None of her dances had been claimed yet. Where was Mr. Bigby when she needed him? Sweaty palms were much more appealing than the all-over squeamishness this man invoked. She drew in a breath to respond but someone else spoke.
“I’m sorry, that dance is spoken for, as is Lady Joanna’s first waltz.”
Snapping open her eyelids, she met the cheery hazel eyes of Mr. Lumley. She sighed with a smile of thanks. “Yes, that’s correct. I’ll be sitting with Mr. Lumley for supper.” The courteous thing to do would be to offer one of the other open dances to Sir Frederick, but couldn’t bring herself to do so.
Sir Frederick’s mouth thinned. “Well, I shall have to settle for the first dance, then, and perhaps the last?”
She hadn’t torn her gaze away from Mr. Lumley, and the warmth and laughter there gave her the strength to endure what she must. “Yes, they are both available.”
Mr. Lumley raised his arm in invitation. “Perhaps we can stroll about the room until the musicians are ready to begin.”
“That would be lovely.” Placing her hand on his sleeve, she resisted the urge to hurry away from Sir Frederick, even though she must return shortly and dance with the man.
“I’m surprised to see Sir Frederick at a ball,” Mr. Lumley said once they were out of earshot. “Are you well acquainted with the man?”
“Not at all. I observed him speaking to my brother at Newmarket and he has presumed a friendship that doesn’t exist.” She surprised herself at how much she admitted to a man she’d so recently met, but she felt safe when he was around.
“Guard yourself around him. I’ve heard stories I can’t share, but his character is questionable, to say the least.”
She laughed. “Do not fear I’m in danger of forming an attachment there. The man makes me quite uncomfortable.”
“Your brother should attend these assemblies with you. I now see why my mother insisted I come to Town for Hannah’s Season.” He nodded toward a notorious rakehell who conversed with their hostess. “The idea astounds me that innocent misses are expected to mingle with less-than-savory characters while maintaining their pristine reputations.”
Joanna bit her lip at his indignation, but kept silent, fighting to keep her giggles inside.
Mr. Lumley glanced down at her from the corner of his eye, then quickly looked away. “You laugh at me. Did I just sound as priggish as I suspect?”
“You did. It was quite the elder brother in spirit. Is Lady Hannah in attendance tonight?”
“She is. And forgive me for preaching as I did. I’m truly not a coxcomb.”
“I never suspected it. Lady Hannah enjoys your company too much for that to be the case.”
All too soon, Mr. Lumley returned her to where Sir Frederick waited. That man took her hand and clamped it to his arm, holding it in place while leading her onto the dance floor where the others had begun to gather. His lack of conversation bothered Joanna even more than dull words would have. She forced herself to speak. “Have you known my brother long?”
“Northcotte and I are business acquaintances.”
Which didn’t really answer her question, and made her wonder all the more why he was dancing with her. “What sort of business are you in?”
The rapid darting of his eyes to the other dancers added to his mystery. “Banking. But one shouldn’t discuss business at social functions.”
She took that as her cue to quit trying to make polite conversation. How dare he put her in her place that way. She didn’t recall ever meeting such an insufferably rude person. By the time the dance wore down, she wondered if she might manage to convince Aunt Ophelia to slip away before the final dance.
On her way back to her aunt, she spied Amelia speaking with Sir Richard. She offered thanks to Sir Frederick in dismissal, squeezed through the crowd, and hugged her friend. “I was afraid I would not find you in this crush.”
Sir Richard nodded. “I had similar fears before I discovered her. There is hardly room to dance.”
“Was that your brother’s friend I saw you with?” Amelia asked.
“Sir Frederick, yes. Although he doesn’t claim a friendship with Robert. He’s such an odd sort.”
“Let me offer my services,” Sir Richard said, “if he becomes a nuisance.”
Mr. Lumley chose that moment to reappear. “I am pleased to know Lady Joanna and Miss Clawson have a champion.”
“There’s no need. Sir Frederick is awkward, yes, but not too forward,” Joanna said. “But I do appreciate the concern.”
Amelia and Sir Richard went off to dance, and Mr. Lumley remained with Joanna. He had a rogue wave falling over his forehead, giving him a dashing air in his dark olive wool tailcoat that brought out the color of his eyes. The matching breeches fitted his powerful thighs, which he surely gained from spending so much time on a horse. She held her head a little higher when she stood with him. She was proud to be seen with such a handsome man.
At supper, she ate lightly, not knowing how calm her stomach really was. Mr. Lumley dragged his chair close to hers and leaned in when speaking. “Will you be attending the Second Spring Race Meeting at Newmarket later this month?”
“No, my mother accepted an invitation for cards at Lady Hinderclay’s home, a dinner and two balls that week. I don’t know how I’ll bear not seeing Patriot race.”
“I’ll be at Newmarket, so I won’t be able to watch over you and my sister. I wish my parents had sent Trey to chaperone instead of me, although I would not have met you. I don’t like the idea of you two being left to the whims of Sir Frederick and others of his ilk.”
Rather than finding him pompous, she detected what she hoped was a bit of jealousy in his tone. That was too much to wish for. “We aren’t attending a house party in the middle of nowhere. Your mother and mine will be present, or my aunt will. They’ve survived enough Seasons in their time to see us safely though a week in your absence.”
He shoved the wayward lock of hair off his forehead. “I daresay Mother knows nothing of what these men are thinking.”
Joanna almost choked on her punch. “She has a husband, and how many sons? I’m certain she has a general idea of what goes on in the minds of the male sex. Tell me, how do you think Triton will do in the next race? Who is his greatest competition? Aside from Patriot, of course.”
That sent him off and running on what had to be his favorite topic. His horses. As he spoke, his eyes lit with an excitement that matched what she felt when she watched Patriot move. How cruel the fates would be if they presented such a perfect man for her and he was not seeking a wife.
Midway through their meal, Lady Hannah approached, walking beside Sir Frederick with a pleading look on her face. “David, Lady Joanna, may we join you?”
“Of course,” her brother said, rising to pull out a chair for his sister.
Sir Frederick sat between the two ladies. “Lady Hannah was kind enough to save her supper dance for me.”
Certain that jab was aimed her way, Joanna didn’t take the bait. Instead, she offered Hannah a sympathetic smile. She found it rather surprising that Hannah didn’t have her card full the moment she arrived. Mr. Lumley should have enlisted the aid of his friends to make her appear more desirable in the early assemblies of her first Season. But as beautiful as she was, her dark blonde hair piled in stylish curls, a fringe of bangs making her expressive brown eyes even more striking, she should not need help finding partners. “That was kind of her.”
Mr. Lumley’s brows drew together as he stabbed his fork into the dessert on his plate. “Who is your next partner?”
She mentioned a gentleman Joanna had met who
was kind and somewhat handsome, whose family had large properties in the north. Lumley nodded.
Joanna set down her punch cup after taking a drink, and spoke to Hannah. “We must remember to find each other sooner in the evening, so we may share the latest on dits.”
“I don’t see what you ladies find to talk about all evening long.” Sir Frederick placed his napkin over the remaining food on his plate.
“There is always more news to share,” Joanna replied.
“I didn’t realize young ladies were interested in politics and business.”
Offering a small smile to Lady Hannah, Joanna refrained from rolling her eyes. This man couldn’t be any duller. “You’d be surprised at what we find to talk about when we get together.” Which men to avoid at all costs was high on that list.
Mr. Lumley laughed softly. “With four sisters I can honestly say young ladies are never at a loss for conversation. As to its veracity I can’t speak, but it’s often most entertaining to listen to.”
Sir Frederick snorted. “They should be schooled in topics which would display their intelligence, so they might converse with their husbands when they return home in the evening.”
Lady Hannah’s eyebrows rose almost as high as Joanna’s.
Shaking his head, Mr. Lumley said, “I’m not certain most gentlemen care to bring their business home with them.”
Did that mean he would not wish to discuss his horses with his wife? Perhaps he was not the ideal husband for her after all.
Sir Frederick looked down his nose at Mr. Lumley. “That might be the case for those with family money and estates, but we who are more involved in earning our livings appreciate a wife who is knowledgeable in more practical matters.”
“So you will expect your wife to be employed?” Mr. Lumley sounded as astounded as Joanna felt.
“Of course not. She must understand enough about finance to speak intelligently with my guests when I entertain. Lady Joanna will need to be schooled on what I do, once our betrothal is announced.”
She choked on her punch, and set the cup down with a clatter. Coughing into her napkin, she pleaded to Lady Hannah with her eyes.
