The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley (8 page)

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.

Mr. Lumley patted her back. “Betrothal? The
lady has not mentioned any impending engagement.”

She lifted her hand to wave him away and
drew in a breath to quiet her spasms. Her voice came out strangled.
“I was not aware of any. Sir Frederick must have misspoken.”

If possible, the man’s affect became even
haughtier. “It hasn’t been announced, but I didn’t misspeak.”

Panic tightened her throat, making it harder
to force words out. Robert had given her until the end of the
Season to find a match. He couldn’t have already considered
anyone’s offer. And surely, he’d never consider Sir Frederick. “I
am certain you’re mistaken, sir. I’ve not agreed to any
engagement.”

“As you are not yet one-and-twenty, the
decision is not yours to make. Lord Northcotte will have the final
say on whom you will marry.”

Heat rose up her body as her anger grew. Her
hands shook until she clenched them in her lap. She couldn’t meet
Mr. Lumley’s gaze, so she focused on Lady Hannah as she forced a
smile. “The Season has just begun. It’s much too soon to be making
decisions such as that. Lady Hannah, do you find it as warm in here
as I? Would you care to walk in the garden with me?”

Mr. Lumley jumped to his feet and helped her
rise. “I shall escort you two. The cool night air will do us all
well.”

Without waiting for her friends, and without
acknowledging Sir Frederick, Joanna fled to the hallway.

Mr. Lumley caught up with her a few steps
later. “Could it be possible Sir Frederick speaks the truth?” He
led her toward the ballroom, where they could go out into the
garden.

“It can’t be. Northcotte promised me a full
Season to find a husband.” She drew in a short breath, a tight band
of fear keeping her from breathing deeper. The food she’d eaten
churned in her stomach, and the thought of dancing again made her
ill, no matter who partnered her.

“Why would your brother agree to a marriage
you don’t want?”

She didn’t answer until they walked into the
garden and stood in the light from a torch away from the other
partiers. “I don’t know.”

Her took her gloved hand in his and patted
it gently. “I’m sorry. It’s presumptuous of me to ask such a
personal question. Think of me as the brother of your friend, if
you’d like to talk about it.”

If only she could pour out her thoughts to
him. But she’d just met him, and she still had some confusion about
the way he’d reacted when she’d rescued Triton. Add the
mortification knowing he’d witnessed Sir Frederick’s declaration,
and her words just would not come. “Thank you, but I would rather
not discuss it.”

“I understand.” He glanced up as footsteps
approached.

Lady Hannah stormed up to them. “David, how
could you leave me with that man? I was forced to beg him to help
me find Mama, or he’d have escorted me out here.”

“I apologize, my thoughts were only for Lady
Joanna at that moment. But you seem to have handled it well.”

She folded her arms and shifted her weight
on one hip. “Some chaperone you are.”

“What could he have done to you in the
crowded dining room? Save your histrionics. Help me cheer your
friend, now.”

Lady Hannah turned to Joanna. “How
thoughtless of me. My plight was nothing compared to what he did to
you. Do you think anyone heard?”

“I hope not. I won’t marry that man, and
having scandal attached to my name would prevent me from marrying
anyone else.”

On the carriage ride home, Joanna watched
out the window as the houses passed by. She’d danced most of the
dances, met one very nice gentleman, yet all she could think about
was Mr. Lumley’s lips. Smiling. Quirking to one side when he
considered what was said. Full and firm, they made her wonder what
they’d feel like pressed against hers.

Aunt Ophelia shifted on the opposite bench
and pulled her shawl up over her shoulders. “Did you have a lovely
time, my dear?”

“Quite so. And you, Aunt? Sir Jasper was
most attentive.”

“He’s a charming man. I feel like I’m in my
first Season when he’s around. I knew him then, you know.”

“Did you have a
tendre
for him, then?
Yet you married Uncle Peter.”

Aunt Ophelia tucked a curl back into place
beneath her feathered turban. “My father held out for a title. A
mere knight wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”

Joanna couldn’t stop her giggle. “Uncle
Peter was only a viscount, not much above a knight.”

“And a very good man. I didn’t regret the
marriage, even though we never had children. He took good care of
me.”

“He was a kind man, and a wonderful uncle.
Mother and I’ve missed him. However, I am pleased to hear you’re
renewing an old attachment.”

“Attachment…that is for young ladies. I find
I’m rekindling something much warmer this time around. I believe
you will be seeing Sir Jasper often while you are in Town.”

“And after I return home, perhaps? When you
come for Christmas?”

“Perhaps. If I am to be blessed a second
time.”

Twice blessed. Joanna would be pleased to
experience that fortune a single time, but worried Robert would
find a way to hinder it, somehow. He was not the same person he’d
been before Father died, and she no longer knew what to expect from
one moment to the next.

Father, do you see what you’ve done to
us?
Mother spent days on end in the sitting room adjoining her
bedchamber, staring out the window with no expression on her face.
The servants brought her meals to her and reported she never spoke.
When Joanna would visit her room, Mother said little beyond,
“That’s nice, dear,” or “I’m well, thank you.”
Nice
and
well
were not words Joanna would use to describe the woman’s
condition.

If that was what deep love did to one,
perhaps Joanna should agree to an arranged marriage like Aunt
Ophelia and Uncle Peter’s. Looking again at the stately houses
passing by, she wondered at the families who lived there. The
larger the house, the greater the likelihood of an arranged
marriage, or at least one involving something other than a love
match in its beginning. She didn’t hold out hope for a duke or a
marquess for herself, and had little interest in a home in Mayfair.
As long as she had horses and children, she could be happy with any
man.

Any man who’d allow her to spend time in the
stables, that is.

The image of Sir Frederick appeared before
her in the glass and she jerked away, watching it fade. He could be
high on the list her brother might use from which to choose her
husband. She couldn’t bear a life beside him, even if he had the
finest stables in all of England. Even if he owned the Godolphin
Arabian himself. Well, that horse had been dead so long she was
being silly. But even the potential chance to train a horse of his
bloodlines, while being a dream she’d never have the chance to
attain, couldn’t tempt her into a marriage to Sir Frederick.

Joanna shivered and drew her shawl over her
shoulders at the very thought.

The memory of another man she’d seen that
evening came to mind. “Do you know Lord Westbourne well?”

“He’s an acquaintance of long duration, but
not a friend.”

“Is he…well, does he wish to know you
better?”

Aunt Ophelia yawned behind her hand. “It
would appear he does. Pay him no mind, but do not feel you have to
accept any invitation from him, should you see him again. If he
approaches you at all, come find me or your mother. He’s not to be
trusted. And he’s not offering marriage.”

“I understand.” Lord Westbourne was even
lower than Sir Frederick. The Season had just begun and she’s
already met two men to avoid at all costs. And only one man of
promise, yet he didn’t seem to be hunting for a wife. If only she
could convince Mr. Lumley otherwise.

Chapter Seven

David felt his horse dancing beneath him
once they left London, the animal eager to run on the open road.
The most difficult part of riding Triton to each race was the need
to go the entire distance at a walk. Not only was there a risk of
injury, but letting him run would leave him much too tired to race
by the time they reached Newmarket, and defeat the entire purpose
of the trip. He’d have to leave Triton behind when he returned to
London this time, so his trainer could work with the horse and take
him on to the next course at the close of the Second Spring Race
Meeting.

He made a mental note to speak with the
constable about the death of the young groom at the First Spring
Meeting. By now, there should be some answers as to cause and
possible suspects. He’d have to keep his eyes open and be alert to
any suspicious activity. He’d remind Peter that Triton and Lass
were not to be left alone at any time during the next week.

But what would prevent a man from tampering
with the food or water at Fernleigh? The family stables were on the
outskirts of Newmarket. If someone wanted to harm their animals, it
was an easy ride to Fernleigh to do so.

He couldn’t become irrationally suspicious
or he’d spend every waking moment in fear. His family didn’t seem
to be the target in this last death, so he needed to calm down. Be
on alert, of course, but not in a panic.

His thoughts wandered, and as they’d done
often of late, they landed on the fair Lady Joanna. A few times in
the past week, he’d had a nagging urge to speak to Northcotte about
his sister. Not to suggest a match for the two of them, of course,
but to discourage him from considering Sir Frederick as a potential
husband for Lady Joanna. The very idea made bile rise in his gut.
The image of the man’s hands on her porcelain skin—no, he couldn’t
let the thought remain in his head.

If it did, he might feel tempted to consider
asking for her himself. And he was not in a position to discuss
marriage to anyone. In a few years, perhaps.

Lady Joanna would be married by then. Since
he was not in love with her, that was no concern of his. He would
likely forget her as soon as he found what he needed to know about
Northcotte. He’d forget how her blue eyes darkened when they met
his gaze, how her laughter made him smile no matter how irritable
he felt. How his heart jumped when he spotted her across a crowded
assembly.

Grimacing, he flexed his heels in the
stirrups to keep from urging Triton to a fast pace. This was not a
good time to be alone with his thoughts. If he were not careful,
he’d fancy himself falling for Lady Joanna, which was completely at
odds with his suspicion her father was behind Zephyr’s death.