by Buck, Gayle
Dewesbury Court had large formal gardens. The stone-flagged pathways were bordered by yew hedges and led the casual stroller from vista to pleasant vista. As usual, Joan avoided the beds of roses, preferring the old-fashioned pinks and sweet Williams and other Elizabethan favorites.
As she bent to sniff one of the pinks, Joan recalled that Lord Humphrey had once told her that Dewesbury Court had a resident ghost dating from the Tudor period. She straightened and surveyed the back of the house. When she looked, she could actually pick out the original Tudor mansion, built with stone of a heavier cut and massive timbers. It was readily discernible where builders through the generations had tacked on their own proud additions, until Dewesbury Court had become a gallant example all its own of fine proud architecture. Joan thought it might be rather interesting to tour the older part of the house, despite its colorful ghost. She was smiling when she made her way through the herb garden and came to the maze.
Joan was entranced at once by the maze. She had never had occasion to enter one, and she spent a delightful hour simply exploring its corridors. The dark-green hedges were higher than her head so that she could not peek over and check her progress. She failed to reach the center, but that did not particularly dismay her. The exercise in itself was what she found to be intriguing.
Finally she sat down on one of the benches provided in the depths of the maze. It was heavenly simply to relax and not be concerned that some other veiled or hostile comment was coming her way to be countered or otherwise dealt with. Joan sighed. The past several days had been very difficult. She glanced up at the leaden sky and discovered an answering recognition in her own spirits. She honestly could not see a hint of sun, either in the sky or in the situation that she had pitchforked herself into. The only redeeming factor in all of it was her strange friendship with Lord Humphrey, who was at once a mere acquaintance and something much more intimate.
The viscount found her there in the maze. Joan glanced up at him, greatly surprised by his unexpected presence. She had been thinking of him and thus it was startling that he should suddenly appear.
He sat down beside her and answered her unspoken question. “I chanced to glance out of my window and saw you. I hope you do not mind that I join you.”
“No, I do not mind in the least,” Joan said. Her original dismay over her harsh reception had lessened with a few days’ reflection, and the last few moments had helped her to further gain her equilibrium. She thought she had finally accepted her lot and that she was beginning to adjust to it. After all, there was still to be gained those things that she had initially hoped for out of the bizarre marriage proposal. Naturally all of her hopes hinged upon the continued growth of her relationship with the viscount, and so she was not at all averse to have a few moments alone with him. “I was enjoying the calm.”
Lord Humphrey laughed. “As in the eye of the storm?”
Joan smiled. Her eyes twinkled. “Precisely.”
“You are a gallant lady,” he said sincerely.
“Nonsense. I am a grasping upstart, a deceiving seductress, and an impertinent baggage,” Joan said cheerfully.
Lord Humphrey flushed with anger. “Who has said so?” he asked roughly.
“Really, Edward! It has not been put into so many words, but I think that is an accurate summation of how my presence is regarded,” said Joan. She touched his arm. “I do not regard it, not anymore. I was warned by both yourself and Lady Cassandra, after all.”
“Y-es.” The viscount frowned in a brooding fashion. He said, “I did not actually expect it to be quite so difficult, you know.” He looked at her, his smile twisting. “I was caught flat-footed, my dear. I expected resistance and disapproval, of course, but not...” He gestured wordlessly.
“The earl still has not directly spoken to you since that night?” Joan asked.
Lord Humphrey gave a short unamused laugh. “Oh, he vouchsafes me a grudging word now and men, when he must. Usually at my mother’s urging, of course.” He hesitated. “I have not told anyone what was said between us. It still pains me. But I shall tell you this much. My father threatened to cut me off if I did not set you aside and marry Augusta.”
Joan gasped. “My lord! Surely his lordship was not serious.’’ She saw from his expression that he was perfectly convinced of his father’s sincerity. “But what shall we do? Indeed, what can you do? You are finely caught, are you not?” She shook her head. “I cannot allow you to make such a sacrifice, Edward. I shall myself apply for an annulment.”
“Joan, do not be a peagoose. His lordship’s threat does not affect other than my pride. Yes, and my sensibilities. The wound was deep, I will grant you,” said Lord Humphrey, a shade grimly. He shrugged. “But as for the rest, it was an empty threat. The earl knew it and I saw that he regretted it almost the instant the words left his mouth because he realized it could serve no real purpose. I am not dependent upon my father’s purse strings. Since I reached my majority, I have gained control of a trust that was established on my behalf by my late grandfather.” He slid a sly grin in her direction. “So you must not think that you shall be forced to live in penury, my lady.”
“As if I would think of that,” exclaimed Joan. “You know little enough of my character if you believe me so shallow, my lord.”
“No, I do not think you shallow, Joan. Quite the contrary. How else could you have put up so patiently with such abuse as you have suffered since coming here?” Lord Humphrey said somberly.
“That will be quite enough of that, Edward,” Joan said decidedly. “I’ll not be put on a pedestal or anything of that sort. I shall take leave to inform you, my lord, that I have harbored quite uncharitable thoughts regarding some of those under your ancestral roof.”
“Including myself, I have little doubt,” he said with a grin.
Joan flushed. “We shall not discuss that, if you please. I am still most ashamed that I doubted you at all. You have been placed in a very difficult position and it is only natural that you should sometimes lose your composure or—or strike out.”
“I should not have done so with you, however. I should have reserved my churlishness for those who most deserve it,” said Lord Humphrey. He fetched a quiet sigh, his eyes turning away from her so that he stared at the yew hedge in a contemplative fashion.
Joan was all sympathy. “It is hardly to be wondered at that your determination to have things seen in a particular light serves to set your family and friends on edge. Indeed, I can feel their reproach whenever I enter a room, and I am but a stranger. It must be twice as difficult for you, a beloved member of the intimate circle.”
“I cannot imagine that it could have been any worse if we had simply announced that we had married,” Lord Humphrey said.
Joan hesitated, then she said, “That thought has occurred to me also.”
“My grandmother thrives on this sort of flap,’’ said Lord Humphrey meditatively.
“Yes.”
Joan and Lord Humphrey looked at each other for a long moment. He suddenly swore. “Her ladyship has used us finely for her entertainment, has she not?”
“Indeed, I cannot but suspect that to be the case,” Joan admitted. “I do like Lady Cassandra, I truly do, but there are times that—”
“That her ladyship could use a thorough hiding,” Lord Humphrey said shortly.
“My lord!” Joan choked on a laugh. “That isn’t precisely what I had intended to say. Oh, it is true, but can you honestly imagine such a thing?”
He gave a reluctant grin. “The vision fairly defies the imagination,” he admitted. His smile faded. “I have made a rare muddle of it, haven’t I?”
“Never mind. What is done is done. Now we must simply forge on and hope for the best,” Joan said.
“Admirable, my lady,” said Lord Humphrey dryly. “And what strategy do you suggest?”
Joan flashed a half-ashamed glance at him. “Actually, I should like to teach Lady Cassandra a well-deserved lesson. It is a rather unwort
hy ambition, I realize, but such a satisfying one to contemplate.”
“I, too, have not much cared for the notion that I have been a regular cat’s-paw,” Lord Humphrey said. “Lord! What a ripe pigeon I made for her ladyship. I haven’t been so gulled since my first trip up to the metropolis and I was persuaded to drop all my blunt on a three-legged donkey race. Mine lost; it was bellows-to-mend for me, I can tell you. My father did not at all see the humor.”
“A three-legged donkey?” repeated Joan, who looked at him with wide wondering eyes.
“It wasn’t actually three-legged, of course, but...” Lord Humphrey broke off, feeling himself incapable of explaining how a four-legged animal could possibly be construed as anything else. “Look here, I’ve an idea. Let’s put an end to Lady Cassandra’s little entertainment. We shall make a proper clean breast of the thing, which we should have done to begin with, and endure the consequences. At least it will all be over and we shall not be caught up in this farce for the Lord only knows how long.”
“I do like the sound of that,” Joan admitted.
The viscount’s eyes kindled. He caught her hand in an excess of exuberance. “Then that is what we shall do. Now, this minute! We shall go inside and make an announcement to everyone. That will put a crimp into my grandmother’s fiendish orchestration.”
“Oh, no! No, we couldn’t possibly do it that way,” Joan said, shaking her head.
“What do you mean? I thought we were agreed,” said Lord Humphrey, taken aback.
“But think, Edward! It will be so humiliating to your godparents in any event. If we simply bray it out, it will be ever so much worse.”
Lord Humphrey’s brows came together in a frown. “Yes, you are right again, Joan. I could not do that to them. My fondness for Lord and Lady Ratcliffe is sincere, and though I do not give tuppence for Augusta’s pride, I would not like to be the author of a grievous wound to her sensibilities, such as they are.”
“Perhaps a private interview with Lord and Lady Dewesbury would be best,” Joan suggested.
“Yes, it would be kinder. My parents will be shocked as well, but I think the news would come better from them to the Ratcliffes,” said Lord Humphrey. His smile twisted in self-derogation. “They could all then commiserate with one another over my defection and loss of wit.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” Joan said, pretending miff.
Lord Humphrey burst out laughing. He lifted her fingers to his lips. “You are good for me, Joan Chadwick. I have never felt my natural arrogance so well-checked.”
“Really, my lord? I am most happy that I have gained even a particle of influence over your waywardness since our original meeting,” Joan said swiftly, her smile quick.
He laughed again. Rising from the bench, he drew her up to stand beside him. He slipped her hand through his elbow. “I suspect that you shall keep me properly upon my toes,” he admitted.
“No more three-legged donkey races to be lost, my lord?” inquired Joan, her eyes twinkling up at him.
“On my honor,” said Lord Humphrey.
There was a crack of thunder and wind whirled through the yew corridor. The viscount and Joan as though on cue turned their faces to the sky with startled expressions.
“We shall have to hurry or we’ll be drenched,’’ Joan said.
“Yes.” At another warning rumble, Lord Humphrey pulled her after him. He moved quickly and unerringly in a direction that Joan was positive that she had not traversed before in her explorations of the maze.
“Edward, do you know precisely where you are going?” Joan asked breathlessly, clutching her skirts up in her free hand as she hurried after him.
He shot a mirthful glance at her. “Not precisely, no. But close enough, I hope.”
Joan felt the first drop hit her cheek. She cast an alarmed look up at the darkening clouds. “So do I!”
Chapter Twenty
Joan and Lord Humphrey emerged from the maze and returned to the house with the rain chasing them at every step. Gaining the safety of the older part of the house, they laughed breathlessly at each other. Joan shook out her skirt and regarded herself in an old cracked mirror. She ran her fingers through her curls, attempting to tame the effects of the damp wind. “I look a fright,” she exclaimed.
“I do not find you so,’’ said the viscount, coming up from behind. There was something quite suddenly sober in his voice that at once made Joan’s heart begin to pound. Meeting her startled eyes in the mirror, he laid his hands tentatively upon her shoulders. “Joan.”
A servant wench appeared from around the corner of the narrow hall. She stopped dead at the sight of them. “Ow! My lord, miss! What a fright you gave me. I wasn’t expecting anyone about.”
The viscount’s hands dropped away and Joan felt her face burning. Lord Humphrey stepped in front of her to shield her from the girl’s interested gaze. “I was explaining to Miss Chadwick about the family ghost,” he said.
“‘Tis a creepy story, indeed!” The girl gave an exaggerated shudder. But she quickly turned to the source of her surprise. “All the others be in the entry hall, my lord, what with the coming of guests. Excuse me, my lord, but I must be off. I was told to bring fresh chamomile for Lady Cassandra’s tea quick-like.”
“It is raining,” warned Joan.
But the girl was already gone, the heavy door banging behind her.
Lord Humphrey extended his hand to Joan. “I believe you are about to meet some of my mother’s numerous acquaintances,” he said.
Joan regarded his lordship with dismay. “Surely not!”
“My mother is a hostess of considerable renown,” he said with a slight grin.
“But I must change. Pull a comb through my hair, at the least.”
The viscount shook his head. “There won’t be time, depend upon it.” He smiled at her. “Besides, you look charming. You’ve roses in your cheeks from the wind, did you know?”
His voice vibrated and Joan colored once more. “I shall remember that when I am called on the carpet for my appearance,” she said with dignity.
The viscount laughed. “No such thing! No one will even notice in the flurry. You shall make an excuse at the first opportunity and I shall contrive to draw everyone’s attention to myself.”
“Very well, my lord. I shall hold you to that,” Joan said. She had noticed that they traversed narrow halls with low ceilings and massive beams. “Is this part of the original house?”
“It is. I shall bring you back for a proper tour one day and show you the gallery that my headless ancestor so mournfully haunts,” said Lord Humphrey.
“Thank you ever so much,” Joan said.
Her doubtful appreciation came through her words and the viscount laughed at her. “One more doorway and we shall be in our own time,” he assured her.
Immediately upon turning the last corner and entering through the door that the viscount had promised her, the sounds of raised voices and the commotion of activity impinged on their ears. They looked at each other and, as one, followed the sounds.
The front hall was a scene of considerable chaos. Trunks and portmanteaus and bandboxes were scattered everywhere, and through the front door the drenched footmen were bringing in more of the same. Several other personages milled about, including two valets and a superior lady’s maid. A nursemaid comforted a toddler who had fallen and was vocally venting his loud outrage at his own clumsiness. Two very lively little boys dodged about in a game of tag, shouting shrilly above the raised voices of the adults engaged in lively conversation.
Lady Dewesbury was talking to a young matron, who was stripping off her gloves as she animatedly answered. The earl was shaking hands with a portly gentleman of amiable demeanor. Lord Ratcliffe guffawed at something the newly arrived gentleman uttered. Lady Ratcliffe and Miss Ratcliffe formed a receiving party to the arrivals. Another gentleman bowed negligently over their hands, his attitude one of worldly boredom.
On the threshold of the drawing room
stood Lady Cassandra, from whence she regarded the tableau with an expression of mild interest. It was she who first espied Joan and Lord Humphrey. “Ah, there you are! As you see, the house party begins in a most rollicking manner.”
“Athene,” exclaimed Lord Humphrey.
The young matron stopped in midsentence and turned her head. Her face lighted up and she started forward, completely uncaring that one of the boys now clung to her skirts while the other skirmished with him behind her back. “Edward! How glad I am to see you! It has been forever. Or, no, more precisely it has been three months. What have you been up to? But I must not ask. My good Thomas has solemnly impressed upon me the need for tact and I quite see, what with Augusta here and all . . . Really, I had no notion it would be such an awkward thing. But how are you, Edward, really?” So saying, she raised up on her toes and kissed him soundly on the cheek.
The viscount was laughing. He scooped her up in a hug that lifted her free of the floor and made her squeal. Setting her down again, he asked affectionately, “Athene, will you never change?”
Rendered breathless by his lordship’s familiarity, the young matron attempted to smooth her gown. “Who is it who never changes? I should like to know,” she retorted. “I haven’t screeched like that in ages. But the instant that I am in the same room with you, it is like we were back in the schoolroom all over again.”
Lord Humphrey turned to Joan. “Joan, this is my sister, Lady Athene Harrington, an incorrigible rattlepate if ever there was one. That gentleman there is her long-suffering husband, Sir Thomas Harrington. Sir Thomas, Athene, I would like you to meet my—”
“Your betrothed, of course! It must be. Miss Chadwick, I am delighted,” exclaimed the viscount’s sister.
Sir Thomas made a most proper bow. “Most happy,” he uttered.
Lady Athene was not so few of words. She caught at Joan’s hands, her gaze at once curious and friendly. “My dear Miss Chadwick! You have no notion how I have positively longed to meet you. Ever since my Thomas brought that notice to my attention, why, I—”
