“Thank you, Joanna. And you, my lord,” she added to Sedge. “Words cannot convey my gratitude for what you have done for us.”
“I take it your mother accepted Mr. Wethersby,” said Joanna after reminding her former charge to control her excitement in public.
“With reluctance, but Papa’s letter left her no choice. We will return to the Manor next week. Jonathan will escort his family there at the end of the month, with the wedding scheduled a fortnight later. Will you attend?”
“Of course,” said Sedge before Joanna could respond. “And may I offer my best wishes?”
“Thank you.”
Noting that Harriet was again ready to erupt into paroxysms of joy, Sedge smiled at Joanna and left them alone.
She led Harriet to the retiring room. “Jump up and down and scream if you must,” she said with a laugh. “Just do it here lest you make a cake of yourself in public.”
Harriet grabbed her in a suffocating hug, then did indeed jump up and down. “How can I ever thank you? I was so miserable, terrified that Mama would do something awful.”
“She may well have.”
“And how could I have been so wrong about Lord Sedgewick?” Harriet hadn’t heard her. “I thought him hopelessly arrogant, yet look at the trouble he took to convince Papa to accept Jonathan. He is the most wonderful man. You must be the luckiest girl alive – after me, of course. I can hardly wait for the wedding. Tell me what to expect.”
“Another time,” she begged. “You have more pressing concerns. Everyone will speak with you tonight, and you must show them what an elegant lady you are. Someone who is about to marry cannot act the giddy girl.”
It took a quarter hour to blunt Harriet’s exuberance. Sedge was waiting for her near the stairs.
“Has she recovered?”
“I hope so. She is so very young. One forgets how energetic girls are at that age.”
“I doubt most girls are that bad.”
“True. I have a sister a year younger. She wouldn’t dream of making such a scene.”
“Will you honor me with this set?” he asked as the beginnings of a waltz filled the room.
“Of course.”
They did not speak much as they danced, for which she was grateful. Love weakened her knees. She was aware of each finger of the hand that rested on her waist, of the occasional brush of a thigh as they wove around other couples, of the virility radiating from him in waves. His eyes were blue again, the first prolonged blue she had seen in days. This duty dance no longer filled him with fury. Hiding her reaction required all her concentration.
“You’ve an excellent touch with girls,” he said once the waltz concluded, nodding toward Harriet.
“I just hope it lasts. She might be under control at the moment, but anything could set her off again.”
They separated, his trust increasing her confidence. He claimed a second waltz after supper, then sighed.
“Do you mind if we leave early?”
“Of course not. You must have been up at dawn to have arrived when you did.”
“Exactly. I must plead weariness, though you will never reveal that fact. No gentleman of distinction would consider retiring at midnight.”
“Nor are you. It is at least half past.” Her attempt at a joke drew his smile.
“Bless you. Father will expect us in the library by nine. Whatever his reasons for coming to town, he will not neglect quizzing us.”
She was again left with the feeling that something was seriously wrong between Sedge and his father, but they were not yet close enough that she could ask for details. Perhaps Reggie could explain.
Only then did she realize that Reggie was absent. And Sedge’s plea of exhaustion did not entirely ring true. Had he realized that his position was in jeopardy? But that did not seem right, either. Wethersby’s report of their journey to Wicksfield had swung the doubters back toward Sedge. Fewer people were whispering that he would lock her away in the country.
They arrived home to find a frowning Husby in the hall. “I was about to send a footman, my lord. Glendale has taken ill. The doctor is on his way.”
“Stomach pains?” asked Sedge.
“And faintness.”
“I will attend him shortly.”
Joanna felt him relax as he accompanied her upstairs, though something was clearly irritating him. “This is quite common,” he swore once they reached their sitting room. “Father is supposed to avoid strenuous activity. Even this trip – which I can make in about ten hours – probably took him two days. And he has a long history of overeating. Huge meals combined with overexertion invariably cause trouble. Last time he was abed a full week.”
“I thought you said he avoided town.”
“He avoids London, but he exerts himself in other ways, riding neck or nothing over the estate, indulging in drunken card parties with neighbors, ringing peals over the heads of the steward, the groundskeeper, and anyone else who annoys him.”
“So I was right. He came here to condemn me and attack you for wedding me.”
He sighed. “We don’t know that, Joanna. But no matter what his reasons, you are not responsible for his illness. He might well have made the trip anyway. He has been trying to force me into marriage for years. His insistence this spring surpassed everything that came before. If I were still unattached, he would have done something to make me follow orders.”
“Very well. Should I await the doctor’s diagnosis?” She doubted Lady Glendale would care for her company, but going to bed made her feel even more of an outsider.
“Get some sleep, if you can. I will need you to be rested tomorrow. If there is anything you can do earlier, I will send for you. Mama is with Father. Who knows where Reggie is, but I expect he will arrive shortly. This is not the first time we have gone through this. Nor will it likely be the last. Sometimes I think Father enjoys the attention these spells bring.”
“Another comment I will not repeat. You are tired indeed. You need rest far more than I do.”
“I will try. Sleep well, Joanna.” Drawing her into a warm embrace, he kissed her gently on the forehead before heading for the other wing.
She lay awake long into the night, trying to make sense of the day’s contradictions. But it was the thought of his warm lips that finally sent her to sleep. The memory invaded her dreams, leaving a longing ache behind.
Yet in the morning, she cursed her obedience. Glendale remained unconscious from an apoplectic seizure suffered during the night. Sedge was gaunt-eyed from lack of sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sedge escaped to the drawing room, unable to bear his mother’s reproachful looks another minute. She blamed him for the attack, though even the doctor agreed that it wasn’t his fault.
Yet yesterday’s refusal to face the inevitable confrontation haunted him. It was the first time he had defied a demand to talk, and it had probably contributed to this attack.
Damn the old bastard all to hell! What had he hoped to accomplish by coming to town? It was too late to prevent their marriage. Divorce was out of the question, for the scandal would destroy him. Even the canny marquess could not know that an annulment might still be possible.
Or could he?
Servants knew everything, so they must be aware that he had yet to visit his wife’s bed. His mother would have interrogated them when she returned to town. She might even have summoned Glendale. Had they hoped to drive Joanna away before he returned?
“Never,” he vowed, pacing the room. Renewed fury drove exhaustion into hiding. His parents had interfered in his life many times, but this was the last straw.
Now that he considered it, his mother had undoubtedly contributed to the rumors while he had been away. Lady Wicksfield’s credit was too weak for anyone to believe her. And the woman hadn’t the intelligence to concoct some of the stories. Leaving Reggie to escort Joanna should have deflected any suspicions over his absence. Only another family member could have caused the brouhaha he had found last night.
Thomas had warned him, so he had been able to laugh at the questions. And once Wethersby confirmed his quest, most people had applauded his actions. But it still hurt that Society had turned on him the moment he was out of sight, ignoring ten years of exemplary behavior on the word of someone he had been publicly at odds with for nearly that long.
Deliberately seduced him… Left town to escape her scheming… Arranging to incarcerate her… Will certainly annul…
He could hear his mother’s voice uttering every charge. If they had managed to drive Joanna away, Society would believe that he had locked her up. No denials would have erased that impression.
“Is there any change?” asked Joanna, appearing in the doorway.
He tamped down his anger. Without proof, it served no purpose. Only after verifying his suspicions could he decide how to proceed. “He remains in a coma.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. She had been angry that he’d let her sleep through the initial attack, but she could have done nothing. The doctor had already been there. Reggie had been in shock. His mother would have insulted her.
But his decision had fed her guilt. How could he convince her that she was being foolish without revealing that he had been trying to protect her from his mother’s venom? And from his own jealousy, he admitted. He remained unsure which brother she might have comforted.
“Father is the most stubborn man alive,” he said, then flinched at his choice of words. “He has refused to follow his doctor’s orders for years. It was inevitable that it would catch up with him.”
“But it would not have happened now if we had not wed.”
Again he flinched. “Fustian!
“Not fustian. You know he only came here to rebuke us.”
“So blame me. I’m the one who insisted on marriage. I’m the one who scheduled the wedding before he had even learned of our betrothal. And I’m the one who refused to meet with him yesterday.”
“I won’t tolerate you shouldering my guilt. If I had stopped to think, I would not have pounced on Mary that night. I would have realized her occupation and known she would lash out to prevent exposure. Then you wouldn’t be trapped.”
His face heated. So much else had happened that he’d nearly forgotten that confrontation. Thus he hadn’t considered that Joanna might know Jenny’s duties. Former duties. She was now under Lord Peter Barnhard’s protection. But this was no time to discuss it.
Resting his hands on her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. “You are blameless, Joanna. As am I. Father’s poor judgment brought on this attack. Did your own father teach you nothing about God’s will?”
“God’s will does not require a man to martyr himself on the altar of public opinion. But it
does
admonish children to obey their parents.”
Ouch.
“The doctor has returned, my lord,” said Husby from the doorway.
Sedge sighed. Somehow he must convince Joanna that he did not regret wedding her – not an easy task, considering that it had initially been true, and one that must wait until later. “I am coming,” he told Husby, then turned back to his wife. “This is not the time to argue blame or guilt or anything else. Once this unpleasantness is behind us, we will discuss everything openly and honestly. In the meantime, ask Cook to set out a cold collation in the breakfast room. I doubt any of us will be sitting down to regular meals. And send regrets to Lady Delwyn and the Heberts. We will not be going out tonight.”
Releasing her, he followed the doctor to his father’s bedchamber.
* * * *
Joanna stared at the empty doorway. Here was more proof that she would never be part of this family. He would not have spoken to his secretary so sharply.
Of course, he was exhausted and probably terrified. No matter what disagreements existed between them, losing a parent was difficult. And he probably felt as guilty as she did.
So her reaction was unfair, she admitted as she headed downstairs to find the cook. Sedge must recognize his mother’s antagonism. Introducing his wife into the sickroom would increase Lady Glendale’s distress. And if Glendale awakened to find her there, he might suffer another attack.
Nor should she have mentioned Mary. Aristocratic wives ignored their husbands’ liaisons. She could hardly demand that Sedge give up his mistress for a wife he hadn’t wanted. That was no way to foster closer rapport.
But whatever Sedge’s motives for isolating her, she had no excuse for brooding about it. A single week of marriage was hardly long enough to recover from the shock, let alone adjust to the reality they both faced. Yet they were slowly making progress. Perhaps he wanted to make this union work. It might be the realization of how little they knew each other that had led to his vow of an open, honest discussion once his father recovered.
* * * *
“There you are, Doctor,” exclaimed Lady Glendale when they arrived in the sickroom. “Glendale’s eyes just blinked.”
Sedge raised his brows at Reggie, wondering if she was imagining a change.
“It’s true,” he said. “His hand also twitched.”
Relief weakened his knees. Perhaps this would relieve Joanna’s guilt. This attack might be the most serious yet, but it was far from the first. Nor would it be the last. Eventually one of them would kill him.
“If you will leave the room, I can examine his lordship,” said the doctor.
Reggie helped Lady Glendale rise, then followed Sedge across the hall. He left the door open so they could hear any summons.
“He will be all right now,” said Lady Glendale.
“Perhaps.” Sedge was unwilling to predict the future. Though there had been no lasting effects from earlier attacks, none had produced so prolonged a coma. “But he must follow the doctor’s orders from now on.”
“He won’t.” Her response confirmed what they all knew. Glendale’s anger when his activities were curtailed was as dangerous as overexertion.
Conversation lagged. Reggie joined him in pacing the floor. The waiting was intolerable. Even his mother was restless. Her hands twisted, shredding a handkerchief.
He paused at the window, noting that straw had been laid down in front of the house to deaden the noise of hooves on cobblestones. The custom was meant to ease the suffering of the dying, but he doubted whether Glendale could hear sounds from the square even if he regained his faculties. His bedchamber faced the garden behind the house. The only real purpose the straw served was to advertise the severity of Glendale’s illness.