by Allison Lane
Which brought him to his next problem. They could not remain in this house. He had moved to Albany ten years ago to escape his mother’s scrutiny. Now there was even more need for privacy. So far, prudence had kept her silent. The marriage was a fait accompli, so any scandal would redound on the family. But sooner or later, she would ring a vicious peal over Joanna’s head. He could not subject his wife to such a tirade. She had done nothing to deserve it.
The admission hurt, for he had not treated her as an innocent. Instead of retiring to Meadowbanks, he had forced her to remain in town and face the gossip. Her eyes had often accused him of pushing her into Society to punish her. He should at least explain his reasoning. Leaving would revive gossip, undoing all his recent efforts. He would suffer more than she.
Arrogant. Selfish. Her voice echoed.
No! Society’s respect might be false and empty, but it was all he had. He could not stand the pity of gentlemen who believed she had trapped him, or the disdain of ladies who thought he’d seduced her. His reputation was important. His position allowed him to help a great many people. Losing the good will of those who looked to him for advice and leadership would strip him of his only accomplishment.
Yet watching her face light up whenever Reggie appeared was equally intolerable. There had to be something that would earn her regard. Pouring himself a glass of brandy, he stared morosely into the lamp as the image of Joanna and Reggie flickered in its flame.
“My lord?” Joanna hesitated on the threshold.
“Come in.” Fate was offering that private chat he needed.
“Thank you.” She shut the door, then took her time about settling into a chair. “I wished to ask a favor, but I don’t quite know how to begin.”
Suspicion flared once more. Had she wed him because her father was in debt? Or a brother? He had not had time to investigate her family and suddenly realized that he knew nothing of her background beyond what his mother and Reggie had revealed. His mother’s information was entirely negative, but she had never been a reliable source. Reggie’s was entirely positive, but he was bedazzled. The truth probably lay somewhere between those extremes.
But the favor might have nothing to do with her family. Did she hope for an annulment so she could wed Reggie? Four days might have convinced her that a besotted husband was easier to control than a man already furious at fate.
His temper snapped. “You won’t get an annulment, so don’t bother asking for one. Nor will I send you off to the country. Flirting with Reggie will not change my mind, so you might as well quit. All it does is tarnish your reputation.”
“What are you saying?” Her face was stark white.
“Your behavior is unacceptable, madam. How can I convince Society that we are happily wed when you are warmer with him than with me?”
“Convincing them to believe a lie is impossible. Your eyes reveal the truth with every glance,” she charged. “Reggie is caring and generous, while you can barely utter a civil word. Frankly, his honest welcome has done more to gain my acceptance than your vaunted credit. Why should I not enjoy talking to a gentleman who has gone out of his way to help me?”
“I’m sure he has,” he said, hating his scathing tone but incapable of stopping it. Her charge stabbed pain into his very soul. “And he would gladly do more. I’ve seen the way he undresses you with his eyes – and so has everyone else.”
“Hateful man.” Tears shimmered on her lashes. “Nothing satisfies you, does it? Stripping me of my home, my job, and any choice over my future wasn’t enough. Now you would deprive me of my closest friend. How have you blinded the world to your selfishness?”
Remorse drove out anger, pain, and even his lingering regret. Only minutes after deciding that they needed a new start, he had reduced her to tears. His tirade was appalling, and too similar to those delivered by his parents.
She headed for the door, increasing his guilt.
“Forgive me, Joanna,” he begged, deliberately addressing her by her given name for the first time. “I am upset, but you are not to blame. May I get you a sherry?”
She narrowed her gaze, suspicious of his sudden affability. “No, thank you. I obviously arrived at an inconvenient time.”
“Sit down. Please,” he added. “You must be as unsettled as I am.” The admission surprised him, for he never bared his inner feelings. But she accepted a chair.
“This is not the first time you have castigated me,” she said on a long sigh. “I suppose I shall grow accustomed to it.”
“I hope not!” Her eyes widened at his tone. “I despise my parents’ habit of criticizing me without verifying their charges.”
“I see,” she said, though he could hear her uncertainty.
“You wished a favor.” He set his suspicions aside. Find out the facts, his conscience demanded. “Have I overlooked one of your needs?”
“Never!” Her shock was clear.
“Is it your family?”
“Of course not!”
“Again I must apologize. Many have begged me for favors, some even resorting to threats. Since I cannot imagine you are like those people, suppose you just explain the problem.”
“It’s Harriet. I promised to see her settled this Season and cannot honorably renege.”
“A commendable attitude.”
She relaxed fractionally. “She is in love with Mr. Wethersby, and he with her, but her mother has barred the door to him. Now that Lady Wicksfield has finally admitted that Reggie is not interested, she is determined to accept Almont. But he will make Harriet miserable. Reggie told me about his other family.” She blushed.
“Then why not pass that information to Lady Wicksfield?”
“I have – several times – but she doesn’t care. All she wants is a suitor who has the power and fortune to help Lord Wicksfield out of his current morass. Wethersby lacks both.”
He frowned. “You had best start at the beginning, Joanna.”
“I suppose so.” She sighed. “A few months ago, Wicksfield lost most of his fortune in a bad investment. He needs money to modernize Wicksfield Manor if he is to recoup. He could sell the town house, but pride prevents him from admitting his poor judgment to Society.”
“Not an uncommon failing,” he said dryly.
“True. He preferred to seek a husband for Harriet who could either convince a bank to grant him a loan – they have already turned him down – or who would make the loan himself. He hired me to chaperon her, believing that I would keep his affairs secret.”
“Which you have,” he murmured when her face twisted with guilt.
She shuddered, but continued. “He also needed someone to look after his family. Harriet is young, and Lady Wicksfield is too irresponsible to watch her. He even put me in charge of their funds to prevent Lady Wicksfield from running up further debts. And he ordered me to find a husband Harriet could be happy with – he has no wish to sacrifice his daughter, you understand.”
“So he hoped that she would find a wealthy lord who would also suit her. Why did he not come to town himself?”
“He could not spare the time. He has thrown himself into agricultural reform. But his steward needs constant supervision to carry out some of the more controversial changes.”
“He must think highly of your sense.”
“I would not go that far. We had never met before.”
“What?”
“You cannot believe he would have hired me had he understood my penchant for walking into trouble – a problem familiar to everyone who has ever seen me.” Their eyes met in humorous communion that recalled their earliest meetings and relaxed them both. “He is Mama’s cousin. They grew up together, and he always admired her sense, so he believed her claim that I might suit his needs. I had just accepted a position as a governess, but he convinced my employer to hold the post until July on grounds that my visit to London would prove invaluable to his daughters.”
“How did he expect you to screen suitors without any contacts in
Society?”
“He didn’t say. Fortunately, Reggie has proved most helpful, investigating everyone in Harriet’s court. I would have been lost without his help.”
“So why didn’t he help you this time?” He was holding his breath.
“I didn’t ask. He lacks your credit.”
“For what? Forcing Wicksfield to accept Wethersby? I thought you said he wanted Lady Harriet’s happiness.”
“It is not that simple.” She sighed. “Lady Wicksfield is now chaperoning Harriet. I doubt she informed Wicksfield of my departure, despite her vow to ruin me.” She bit her lip. “With everything that has happened, I forgot to do so myself.”
“Understandable. And easily rectified. He can find a new chaperon easily enough.”
“There isn’t time.”
“What happened?”
Joanna stared into the fire. “Lady Wicksfield never approved of a protracted recovery. She was willing to pay lip service to the idea because she assumed that Harriet would choose a husband based on money and prestige – or at least follow her guidance. She expected Harriet’s beauty to garner enough interest that she could play suitors against one another until one offered to give Wicksfield the money he needs. Her determination increased once we reached town. She is enjoying Society too much to willingly spend future Seasons in the country. But that would require even more money.”
“So she wants to sell the girl.” His icy tone made her flinch.
But she was shaking her head. “Worse. Selling only works with dishonorable gentlemen who can gain a wife no other way or with Cits desperate to gain access to Society’s fringes. But neither would provide what she wants.” She bit her lip. “She is determined to find the richest husband she can, hoping to dip into his purse whenever she exceeds her allowance. When we arrived home from Lady Warburton’s, she demanded that I arrange a compromise between Harriet and Reggie. I refused.”
He stared, but she was looking at her lap.
“That is another reason why I cannot ask Reggie to help. Lady Wicksfield would love to force him into offering.”
“Dear Lord.”
She met his eyes, her own filled with pain. “Exactly. Harriet won’t cooperate with such a scheme, but she may wind up the victim. Lady Wicksfield is plotting something underhanded, probably to trap Almont now that Reggie no longer goes near them. Almont is willing enough – I’ve deflected an offer for days – but I cannot allow her to sacrifice Harriet. Yet I have no idea how to prevent it. Nor do I know how to convince Wicksfield to approve Wethersby. If only he would let go of his pride! He can recoup without a loan. He’s already learned a valuable lesson, for that investment scheme was questionable from the start. But his pride could never survive becoming the butt of jokes. He usually attends Parliament, so hiding his misfortune would be impossible.”
“Do not work yourself into a megrim,” he advised, toying with a letter opener. He had himself under control again, helped by her aversion to scheming and her genuine affection for Harriet. “There are several approaches we can try.”
“Then you will talk to Lady Wicksfield?”
“That would be pointless. She hates me for elevating you, and I doubt she can influence her husband. But as soon as I confirm your assessment of Wethersby, I will speak to Wicksfield. What can you tell me about the lad? I know him only by sight.”
Her eyes warmed to the color of rich chocolate, creating the same face that had laughed with Reggie. “He is a younger son who owns a small estate in Yorkshire. His income will comfortably support a wife as long as they rarely visit London – Harriet prefers the country, by the way. Reggie may know more. With everything that happened at Lady Warburton’s, he never gave me his final report.”
“It sounds ideal, as long as Wethersby does not believe Harriet is an heiress.”
She frowned. “I doubt he expects a huge dowry, though there have been a few who did – most people still believe Wicksfield is wealthy. He never realized that hiding his problems might expose Harriet to fortune hunters. I’ve had to discourage more than one.”
“Surely she has some dowry!”
“Of course. Five thousand guineas, which was placed in trust for her at birth. He is not trying to sell her, you understand, merely obtain the loan that will hide his poor judgment.”
He nodded. “Set the problem aside,” he advised, helping her rise. “I will deal with it. I have always despised parents who manipulated their children into unsuitable unions.”
She raised her brows.
“Another time. You look exhausted, and no wonder. Get some rest. Lady Wicksfield will not force Harriet onto Almont.”
Squeezing her hand, he accompanied her upstairs, then collected hat, gloves, and walking stick, and called for his carriage. If anyone questioned his presence in the clubs, he could claim he’d left his wife asleep.
That meeting with Reggie had been to discuss Harriet’s suitors? He was not convinced he had the entire story, but it raised a glimmer of hope. Perhaps her affections were less engaged than he’d feared.
Don’t jump to conclusions.
He wouldn’t, but the future looked less grim. Gratitude alone warmed her face into genuine beauty, and she was as devoted to duty and honor as he was.
* * * *
Almont was still at White’s. It was no trick to pull him aside for private conversation.
“I heard a disturbing tale this evening,” Sedge said once they completed the preliminary social sparring. “Lady Wicksfield seems determined to force you into offering for her daughter despite knowing that the girl is in love with another. She hopes to benefit from your fortune.”
“What?” Almont’s brows snapped together.
“I agreed to meddle in your affairs because my wife desires Lady Harriet’s happiness,” he said with a sigh. “I could hardly ignore so pretty a plea.” He might as well further the image of his love match. “We both know that you need only ensure your succession. What would you do with Lady Harriet then?”
“Mother will keep her company.”
“Turn her into a drudge, more likely. Is that a fitting end for an angel?”
“Mother wouldn’t—”
“Lady Harriet comes with many drawbacks,” he said over the protest. “A demanding mother, starry-eyed innocence, a tendre for another man—” He winced, for the words recalled his own situation. “—and the expectation that her husband will cherish her. Surely there are girls more suited to your needs.”
“Were you about to suggest Lady Constance? She would expect no affection.”
“But she would expect attention. She is the clinging sort, just like her mother, and would demand constant escort, falling into megrims and hysterics at any hint of neglect. You don’t think Wadebrook hovers over his wife from choice, do you?”
“Good God! I had not considered that. Perhaps Miss Willowby would serve.”
“Perhaps. She is independent enough and has the confidence to stand up to your mother, but she would cost a fortune in upkeep. She demands the best of everything – again like her mother. What about Lady Edith Harwood? You have paid her some attention, making an offer believable. Granted, she is not beautiful, but she is old enough to understand the rules, can run your household and keep your mother in line, cares for no one but herself, and would gladly accept your name and neglect. Plus, she is honorable enough to provide an heir before she looks elsewhere for companionship. An innocent like Lady Harriet would bring you nothing but grief.”
He nodded. “A most pragmatic man. You surprise me, Lord Sedgewick. I had not thought you caring.”
“I would rather keep it that way.”
Almont smiled. “We all live behind masks. I was captivated by Harriet’s angelic voice, but you are correct. I would rarely be in a position to hear it. And this explains why Miss Patterson has seemed so distant of late.”
Sedge departed, satisfied that Almont would not be available for long. Lady Edith’s betrothal would be on everyone’s lips by the fash
ionable hour, or he was no judge.
His luck remained in force. Wethersby was watching a faro table at Brook’s. Again, he had no trouble drawing him aside for a private conversation.
“Lady Sedgewick claims that you wish to offer for Lady Harriet,” he began, skipping the preliminaries this time.
“Why should that concern you?” demanded Wethersby.
“My wife cares for Lady Harriet’s happiness. Are her impressions correct?”
Wethersby frowned, but nodded. “Not that I have any chance of success,” he added bitterly. “Lady Wicksfield considers my station unacceptably low. She has ordered me to keep my distance. I am not even to stand near the periphery of Harriet’s court. I doubt the earl considers me in a better light.”
“You do not know his thoughts. Nor does his wife. Can you afford marriage?”
“Harriet knows my circumstances,” he said stiffly. “They are agreeable to her. I have not spoken with Miss— Lady Sedgewick on the subject, but I had thought her opposition was softening.”
“You thought correctly. She believes you will suit, but I wanted to hear your side before speaking with Wicksfield. I will leave for the Manor in the morning. Would you care to accompany me?”
Wethersby’s eyes nearly popped from his head. “Thank you.”
“Thank my wife. Without her prompting, I would have considered meddling to be beneath my dignity. My carriage will collect you at seven.” When he left, Wethersby’s jaw was hanging open.
Ordering his valet to awaken him at dawn, he crawled into bed and slept soundly for three full hours.
* * * *
Joanna blinked at the tray Morton placed beside the bed. Next to her morning chocolate sat a pile of letters. She recognized Sedgewick’s hand on the top sheet.
Almont will not offer for Harriet, it read. I will return in a few days. Reggie can escort you until then.
The others were invitations to three balls and several routs. He must be ordering her attendance, for he had jotted notes on each one – blue silk, sarcenet ball gown, and so on.
