Scandalous Scoundrels

by Aileen Fish

  It was true. A month ago, he had no interest in her other than to gather evidence against her brother. He still hadn’t given up the conviction either her brother or father had been behind the poisonings, and he needed to be able to face her with a clear conscience. She deserved that much. It would require all the gumption he possessed to walk away from finding Zephyr’s killer. He would do it, though, for Lady Joanna.

  At last, his turn came to dance with her. When she smiled up at him as he offered his arm, her face was alight with such joy it stole his breath. He saw the other dancers taking their places. “Ah, a cotillion. I do hope I don’t embarrass you.”

  “You are a competent dancer,” she assured him. “Is this more false modesty?”

  “I? Be false in anything?” He pressed his right hand to his chest. “You wound me, madam. Let us see how complimentary you are when we are through.”

  The steps were intricate and bouncy, and he spent all his concentration on getting the moves correct. But when Lady Joanna glided away from him, he couldn’t help but stare. Her gown teased him with hints of the shape of her hips and tiny waist. The pale curves exposed by the low neckline begged to be kissed. Did she apply perfume there, in that warm crevice, to increase its potency?

  He bit his tongue to stop the thoughts and willed the tightness in his muscles to relax before he ravished her on the dance floor.

  Lady Joanna returned to his side. “Is something amiss?”

  “No, no. I was merely lost in your beauty.”

  “And that caused such a look of pain on your face?” Her laugh was a lilting musical scale. “I never know what to expect from you.”

  “I’m pleased you are never bored in my company.”

  “Never bored, that it quite true. I think we have too much in common for that.”

  He considered that. Beyond their love of horses, what did they share? They were both children of earls, and preferred life in the country. She didn’t speak much of her brother, but when she did, her words held the love David felt for his siblings. They were well suited in those aspects. “As long as I can be assured you are not laughing at me, I’ll continue to do what I can to encourage it.”

  They parted again in the dance. When she returned, she offered him a flirty smile. “I fear I cannot guarantee not to laugh at you if the circumstance calls for it. My governess never quite succeeded in conquering my inappropriate giggles.”

  He nodded once. “I am duly warned. And I’ll do my best to avoid you when my sister is present, as she is sure to encourage such outbursts.” Hannah was always with him when he saw Lady Joanna, he realized. He needed to call upon her by himself so he could deepen their acquaintance. The difficulty was doing so without his family jumping to a conclusion he might not achieve.

  ~*~

  Three nights later, Joanna again found herself standing on the outskirts of an assembly, watching her friends being gracious and exuberant in a quadrille. Amelia and Hannah both had their cards filled early on, while Joanna’s had a few noticeable blank spaces. She was uncertain whether the gossips had her already matched with Mr. Lumley, so the other gentlemen avoided her, or worse, she’d been labeled an undesirable through her acquaintance with Sir Frederick.

  Perhaps they all knew of her love for horses, and her wish to continue to train after she married. Not many gentlemen would allow that of their wives. If that were the case, Robert would have to let her attend race meetings and skip the balls and card parties. A wife who loved races as much as her husband would be a boon to the men in that circle, surely. Her search for a husband could be accomplished with ease.

  Joanna leaned to one side to hear her aunt’s conversation with Lady Bracklehurst, when Sir Frederick approached. He took her hand without waiting for her to offer it, and bowed. He smiled and his furry cheeks puffed out. “I hope you saved a dance for me.”

  She said a quick prayer for rescue as Mr. Lumley had done in the past. No one came. “I’ve the next dance free.” She was not about to admit to having two open after the supper dance, too. Thank heavens Trey had asked for that one.

  “How delightful. Would the last dance be available, too?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” If she didn’t have a partner for the final dance of the evening before the music started, she would ask Aunt Ophelia if they might leave early. Either way, she would never give that honor to Sir Frederick.

  “Perhaps you would care to take a turn about the room while we wait?”

  She looked to her aunt for assistance, but the woman was occupied with Sir Jasper and failed to notice. “All right.” She placed her hand on Sir Frederick’s sleeve and wished she might become invisible to the others in attendance.

  “I had an audience with Northcotte this afternoon,” Sir Frederick said.

  “How lovely.” And how little she cared what he did.

  “He agreed to let me pay court to you.”

  Her left foot caught on the heel of her right, and she would have tumbled to the floor if Sir Frederick hadn’t caught her by the arm. When she regained her balance, she uttered, “He said nothing to me on the matter.”

  “Perhaps he was not aware I was attending the same assembly as you this evening. I didn’t know myself until I saw you with your aunt.”

  Robert had said she would have until the end of the Season before he would choose for her. How could he ever believe this man suited her? “How lucky for you to see me amongst all these people.”

  “I’ve a knack for finding you in a crowd. Once we are betrothed, I won’t have to search, for you will always be on my arm.”

  “Sir, you are presumptuous. I’m certain Northcotte didn’t agree to a betrothal without hearing my feelings on the matter.” She prayed that were true.

  “I’ve all confidence he’ll find my offer agreeable when the time comes. This matter of paying court is a courtesy to you. He thought you should be allowed to enjoy your full Season.”

  “If you wish for me to become fond of you, you are going about it wrong. I enjoy neither my Season nor your company when you speak of such things. It’s quite intolerable.”

  The large room seemed suddenly small, the other guests crowding her, stealing her air. She needed to escape to the garden, but not on the arm of Sir Frederick. Her two friends were still dancing, and her aunt engaged with Sir Jasper. Joanna was trapped. “I would like a glass of punch before our dance. If you’ll escort me back to my aunt, I shall wait upon you there.”

  She was unable to confide her dread to anyone until three dances later, when she and Amelia awaited their partners for the supper dance. She whispered her plight. “I fear my brother has accepted an offer from Sir Frederick. Northcotte agreed to let him court me.”

  Amelia gasped. “Are you certain he agreed to it? I would not be surprised if that man was not fully truthful.”

  “He seemed too assured to lie about something I could easily check out. And he knows I would do just that.”

  “How will you escape him?”

  Trey arrived at that moment. “Is something amiss?”

  Amelia blurted out, “Lady Joanna’s brother is allowing Sir Frederick Aldwen to court her.”

  Joanna grasped her friend’s hand. “Please, keep your voice down. If it’s true, I want to keep it from the gossips as long as possible. This could ruin my chances with any other gentlemen.”

  Trey shook his head. “This can’t be true. I thought you and my brother had an understanding.”

  Looking around them to see who might overhear, Joanna whispered, “You are mistaken. I’ve no understanding with any gentleman.” She wondered how he had come to this conclusion. Had his brother said something to make him think so?

  “We can’t let you marry that man,” Amelia said with a shudder. “We must think of something.”

  Joanna frowned. “What can we do? Hire a man to pretend to court me? And what happens when he doesn’t make an offer? Sir Frederick will be free to make one, or if he already has, my brother will accept it.”
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  “What if we invited you to so many outings, you had no time for Sir Frederick?” Trey offered. “My sister and Miss Clawson could easily fill your afternoons, and your aunt could make certain you had no evenings free.”

  “We should find a place to eat our supper and worry about this later, in a more private setting,” Joanna said. “I appreciate your concern, both of you. Amelia, when Sir Richard finds you, come sit with us, and we can talk about our plans for the next week. Please, don’t speak of this to anyone.”

  Joanna took Trey’s arm and they followed the crowd to the refreshment area. It was too bad he was so very young. She would not be averse to marrying a kind-hearted young man such as him, if she didn’t already have such strong feelings for his brother. If only she could find a way to convince David Lumley to propose. That would be the best solution she could imagine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sitting in the soft glow from the coals in the fireplace of Robert’s study, Joanna listened for the sound of his carriage below. The moment she’d arrived home from the ball, she’d sent word to her maid not to wait for her to come to her chamber. She had no idea how late her brother might be, but she was determined to speak to him before sleep softened her anger. His actions, if true, were intolerable.

  The sight of a brandy decanter in one corner tempted her. The burn of the drink would replace the burn of her emotions, but she didn’t care for the taste. A glass of port would be nice, but she would not bother the servants to ask. Instead, she let herself stew while deciding precisely how to get her point across.

  As it were, her words were simple when she met him in the small entry of the town house. “Do you hate me as much as this?”

  Robert’s sigh carried the weight of his guardianship. “What have I done now?” He removed his hat, coat, and gloves, handed them to the butler, Starley, and dismissed the man. He then strode to his study as if secure in the knowledge she would follow. Or in hopes she would not.

  But she did. Her hands shook with the effort of refraining from pounding on something. “I thought we had discussed this already, yet just this evening, Sir Frederick informed me we are betrothed. How could you do this to me? I thought you wanted my happiness.”

  He motioned for her to sit in a chair, but she wrung her hands and paced instead. She couldn’t sit when the rest of her life lay in stock and chains.

  After pouring a brandy, Robert sat behind his desk. “Nothing has changed since the last time we spoke.”

  “Then I am not engaged to him?”

  “Nothing has been drawn up and agreed to, and will not be, for as long as I can put it off.”

  Her jaw slackened, but she kept her mouth closed. A lump formed in her throat, the pain making it difficult to swallow. “I am to marry Sir Frederick.”

  “No, I just said you are not. He has made an offer but I haven’t accepted it, nor have we talked settlement terms. When that time comes—if that time comes, I’ll bring my solicitor into the discussion to assure you are properly taken care of.” His voice was so calm, his tone level, she wondered if he realized how important this was.

  “I cannot marry that man.” Her voice cracked. “I do not love him. I cannot even tolerate his company. Father would not have wished me to marry this man.”

  Robert sighed and rested his elbows on his desk after shoving aside a stack of opened correspondence. He kneaded his temples in silence. Finally, he sat back in his chair, his gaze landing on the papers. “Father wished for many things that didn’t come to pass. You are correct, however; he would not want you to be unhappy. My situation is a difficult one, Joanna. I am not in a position to promise you something I cannot give you. I can only say this…if you do not wish to marry the man, find yourself a husband. Soon.”

  “It’s not as easy as that. I cannot place an advertisement in the papers suggesting all suitable, eligible men apply here.”

  “That would make the task easier.”

  She gasped. “It isn’t done! You are not being helpful.”

  “I’ve never sought a husband, so I don’t claim to know the specifics. And I don’t wish to learn them now. Believe me when I say Father left a large amount of work for me to resolve. I will get it done, one way or another, and with as little pain to you and Mother as possible. Your only job is to find a husband and marry him. You will do this, I know, because you have always done what is expected of you.”

  “But—”

  He raised a hand. “Perhaps Aunt Ophelia would be better to advise you in this. I can send a note to Sir Frederick and ask him not to speak of any of our dealings until we are ready to read the banns, but that is all. You simply must work harder at finding a husband.”

  He reached for his brandy, a signal their discussion was at an end. She sat there, watching him sip his drink and avoid her gaze, not certain if she should be frustrated by or in awe of the way he turned her anger back on her. She slowly rose. “Thank you for speaking with me. I shall call on our aunt tomorrow.”

  She was halfway up the first flight of stairs before the tears hit. Afraid the night footman was lurking nearby, she drew in a deep breath to hold them at bay. Only when she was safe in her room did she curl up on her bed and let the painful, wracking tears fall freely.

  Find a husband. Soon. But how?

  ~*~

  Aunt Ophelia looked rested and content pouring tea for herself and Joanna in her parlor. Joanna felt the complete opposite. She’d barely slept, feeling time slipping away and taking her chance of a happy future with it.

  “I’m surprised you came calling this early, Joanna. Did we have plans I’d forgotten?”

  “No, Aunt. I was eager to speak with you and took a chance you’d be up and receiving callers already.”

  “You know I’ll receive you, no matter the hour. Now, what brings you here? Something must be amiss. Is it your mother?”

  Joanna shook her head. “No, mother is unchanged. It’s Robert. Or something he said.”

  Aunt Ophelia took a sip of her tea and set down the cup. “Oh?”

  “He insists I find a husband. Soon.”

  “I thought that was the purpose of your Season. How does this cause you distress?”

  “He’s made some sort of agreement with Sir Frederick Aldwen that I am to marry him.”

  “Without asking your opinion on the matter? That doesn’t sound like Robert. Perhaps you misunderstood?”

  “No. He said my only alternative is to find a man who’ll agree to marry me before Robert and Sir Frederick have the settlement drawn up.”

  “Oh, dear. Does your mother have anything to say on this?”

  “I haven’t said anything to her. How can I? She isn’t there anymore, if you understand my meaning. She’d tell me she’s certain Robert knows what’s best, and go back to staring out the window. I don’t know what to do, Aunt. I don’t know what to do.” Joanna’s breaths grew shaky. “I cannot marry that man.”

  “What of the man you’ve gone riding with several times? Mr. Lumley. He has escorted you about at many assemblies, it must mean he is fond of you. A few of my lady friends have mentioned his obvious attentions. Has he said anything to suggest he had feelings for you?”

  “No. He doesn’t speak of feelings beyond those he has for his horses.”

  “Well then, I say he is perfect for you. Now you must make him aware of this fact.”

  Joanna raised her hands. “But how, short of throwing myself at his feet and completely destroying my reputation?”

  “If he falls for you after a show like that, he’s not the man you need. No, we need honey to catch this fly. We must work quickly. I shall arrange a card party, small of course, almost last minute. Next week. I’ll check my calendar. We’ll invite your friends, and the sons of a few of my friends who are of the right age but not yet seeking a wife. Their attentions should show your Mr. Lumley you are desirable. Although how he hasn’t noticed already is beyond me.”

  She continued, barely pausing to draw a breath. “A n
ew dress is in order, not too formal or too casual. A pale green would suit you and flatter your hair color. Some elaborate braiding around the neckline to draw his attention to your better features—”

  “Aunt Ophelia! You said throwing myself at him was not the way to win his heart.”

  “Correct, but displaying yourself in a favorable manner simply lets him realize how strongly he feels about you. Why do you think young ladies are asked to perform on the piano or harp, or sing for a group of people? If you don’t place yourself in an advantageous light, how is a gentleman supposed to see you?”

  “But I don’t play an instrument, and you’ve heard me sing.”

  Aunt Ophelia tapped a finger on her chin. “Hmm, there is that. In Mr. Lumley’s case, he’d probably prefer a woman whose talents involved a horse, but I refuse to bring any large animals into my parlor.”

  “He’s seen me ride quite often. In fact, when we met I had ridden down his runaway stallion.” Joanna smiled at the memory.

  “And he didn’t propose on the spot?”

  “No. Now that I think on it, once he realized who I was, he became curt and rode off. I never expected the man to speak to me again.”

  Pursing her lips, Aunt Ophelia said, “And you are certain this is the man you wish to marry?”

  “He has been quite pleasant company since then, sometimes even flirtatious.” Butterflies fluttered in Joanna’s stomach, thinking of the nicer things he’d said. “I believe he might have been embarrassed at being rescued by a lady. I enjoy his company, and truth be told, I feel he’s the only man of my acquaintance who might allow me to continue working with the foals. I cannot imagine my life without my horses.”

  Her aunt’s face softened. “This need of yours to nurture young horses might fade once you have children of your own. I’m not altogether sure you should base the rest of your life on a hobby you might outgrow in a few years.”

  “But it’s not a hobby, it’s my whole life.” Joanna’s heart raced at the very idea she might outgrow the horses. “Would you advise Robert not to consider his fiancée’s feelings toward racing?”