Birds of a Feather

by Allison Lane

  Reggie examined his face, then smiled. “Her father lives near Cavuscul Hill. But she is probably taking the mail, which doesn’t leave until six.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “If you hurry, you can catch her at the Swan With Two Necks. We can postpone our own meeting until two.” His smile broadened into a grin.

  * * * *

  Joanna fought her impatience as men loaded luggage onto the mail coach. The marquess’s illness had disrupted the household so much that Sedge might not know she was gone. Yet she would not relax until she was away from London. He would feel honor-bound to stop her, but with luck, he would not follow her until Glendale’s health improved. She would remain at home for only a single night. Once he admitted that she was serious, he would annul their marriage and get on with his life.

  She sighed. It might be better to disappear directly, but she had to explain to her parents. Papa might be shocked, but he would understand. And he might even know where she could go.

  The call finally came to board. Pulling her cloak tighter, she headed across the stable yard. The inside seats had been claimed before her arrival, so she must endure an outside perch. At least it wasn’t raining.

  “Joanna!”

  Her heart leaped as she spied the figure jumping down from a familiar phaeton, but she immediately quelled its pleasure. “Go home, Sedge. Honor has led you too far astray already.”

  He flinched. “Joanna, we must talk. Please? I will never hold you against your will. If we cannot come to an understanding, I will provide transportation to wherever you wish to go. But at least hear me out.”

  He was more tense than ever, but the quality had changed almost to fear, though that seem absurd. Unless his father was worse.

  “How is Glendale?”

  “Awake. Incapable of speech or much movement. Dying.”

  “You should not have left him.”

  He glared. “You are far more important than he is. Even if we return to find him dead, I will not regret following you.”

  “Can’t you let go of your pride long enough to admit the truth?” she demanded.

  “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

  “Marrying me was less a matter of honor than of your overweening conceit. London’s premier dandy would never tarnish even the lowliest female. Never mind that we were strangers who had no interest in marriage. Never mind that you disliked me even before that night. You care for nothing beyond appearances. Why else are you here?”

  He clenched his teeth. A coach clattered into the yard, splashing him with a sloppy mixture of manure and horse urine. “I never disliked you, Joanna. Distrusted you, perhaps, though that did not survive the masquerade. I was angry even before you arrived that night, and I was furious at my own stupidity, but none of it was aimed at you.”

  “So you admit that marriage was a stupid idea.”

  “Never. It was right then, and it is right now. The stupidity was placing you in a compromising position and thus drawing Society’s censure onto your head. Please forgive me for not making that clear earlier. I wronged you in many ways, Joanna, not least of which was using you as a target for my irritation over other things. But I want to make a fresh start. Perhaps something good can come out of this day. God knows everything else is collapsing.”

  “Give ’im a chance, miss!” shouted a groom.

  “’E’s jes tryin’ to turn ye up sweet,” warned a maid. “All the fancy coves lie. Don’t let no purty words turn yer ’ead.”

  Joanna flinched, but Sedge seemed oblivious to their growing audience. His eyes were anxious, but blue. He radiated tension, but not antagonism. She shrugged. “Very well. We will talk.”

  Two grooms broke into a cheer as the guard tossed down her bandbox. Sedge lifted her across a mudhole, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. His cheek brushed her forehead in what might have been a caress. By the time he placed her in his phaeton, the mail coach was gone.

  Gathering up the ribbons, he headed for Mayfair.

  She stared at his profile, trying to decide what he really wanted and why. Huge circles rimmed his eyes, reminding her that he had been up since dawn yesterday. Lines around his mouth added a grimness to his countenance that she had never seen. But his first words caught her by surprise.

  “You overheard Mother, didn’t you?” He stared at her, ignoring a flurry of curses when his team nearly ran down a sailor.

  “Not deliberately. I despise eavesdroppers.”

  “Too bad. If you had remained longer, you would have discovered that neither Reggie nor I agreed with her tirade.”

  “I know you both well enough to expect that.”

  “Then why did you flee?”

  “I cannot be responsible for creating a breach with your family – as I explained in my note.”

  “You are not responsible.” He glared. “There has been a rift since Reggie and I were in short coats. Father demands absolute adherence to his orders – which neither of us can give – and Mother is the most unyielding, intolerant woman of my acquaintance. She disapproves nearly everything, up to and including my position in Society, which is more influential than her own.”

  “Not anymore,” she muttered.

  “You are wrong. Everyone knows she was behind the worst rumors, just as they now accept that she lied. Despite her efforts to destroy us both, she failed. You were at the Ruftons last night. Did anyone cut you?” His eyes bored into hers.

  “N-no.”

  “You are stuttering.” His voice sounded weary. He negotiated a corner before continuing. “I am not angry with you, Joanna. Surely you know I would never hurt you.”

  “Yes, I know that, Sedge.” At the moment, her biggest fear was that he would see into her heart, but that wasn’t something she could explain. She was still reeling from the fact that he had abandoned a dying father to come after her. “But my presence will hurt you. You must have noticed how many of your admirers have turned elsewhere in the past week.”

  “They would have done so soon enough, anyway,” he countered. “I am getting too old to hold their allegiance. Marriage merely accelerated the inevitable defection. I knew it would happen, and I welcome it.”

  “You are putting a pretty face on the situation, but you must admit that my low origins are hurting your position.”

  Somebody shouted.

  “Look out!” she cried.

  “Damn!” Jerking his eyes back to the street, he hauled up on the ribbons, pulling the horses to one side and barely missing Cathcart’s curricle. Two bystanders hooted with laughter.

  She recognized both as Society dandies.

  “We’d best finish this at home,” he said wryly.

  “Of course. I would hate to cause you more harm. At this rate, you will be the butt of countless jokes by morning.”

  “It doesn’t matter, but I would rather not injure someone out of inattention.”

  A treacherous glow started in her chest. Had Sedge been so engrossed in their conversation that he had forgotten everything else? Or was it merely multiple shocks atop lack of sleep?

  By the time they reached Grosvenor Square, she was more confused than ever. Impressions. Words. Deeds. Nothing matched. Every time she thought she understood him, he changed.

  “Any news, Husby?” Sedge asked as he escorted her inside.

  “None, my lord.”

  “We will be in our rooms. Do not disturb us for anything short of death.”

  He escorted her upstairs, closing the door firmly behind them.

  “You were explaining your mother’s tirade,” she prompted when it became apparent that he was not going to start talking.

  “Yes.” He paused. “We might as well get the worst subject out of the way. Mother not only disapproves of my interests, she is very unhappy with Reggie, though I did not realize how deeply that argument ran until today.”

  “What happened?”

  “You have always known that he refuses to wed, haven’t you?”

  “Of cou
rse. He mentioned it at our first meeting. Others have made similar statements, but there was something in his eyes that proved he spoke truly. He is not a man who puts on airs.”

  “You must be the only person in town who believed him. The situation has grown so desperate that he is leaving.”

  “Poor Reggie. I take it he is leaving the country, not merely London.” He had threatened to take a Grand Tour if people did not stop pressing him.

  “Forgive me. I am not making much sense. Yes, he is leaving the country. Permanently. We are meeting tomorrow to make me legally responsible for all his present and future affairs.”

  “You really had no idea of his intentions?”

  “None.” He paced to the fireplace and back. “I am still in shock. The announcement was bad enough on its own, but it followed hard on the heels of Mother’s tirade and my realization that she and Father had hoped to get rid of you before I returned.”

  “To say nothing of a sleepless night and a dying father.”

  He raised his brows.

  “I already suspected your parents’ intentions. They probably planned to lock me away somewhere until an annulment went through.”

  “I still cannot believe they would go to such lengths to force their will on us. Poor Reggie, indeed. I would argue if I thought he was wrong, but he stands no chance of happiness here.”

  “So you fetched me back to settle the succession. Fool. Society will be even harsher about this mésalliance once they realize Reggie is gone.”

  “Will you stop it! There is nothing wrong with your breeding! Nor is there anything wrong with your manners, your looks, your training, or anything else your fertile mind can conjure up. Mother lied. Accept it. Don’t believe a word she told you.”

  “I doubt Society will approve my unladylike education.”

  He swore. “Very well. A few matrons despise learning – probably because their own minds are so lacking that they would lose a battle of wits with a tree – but they feel the same about every educated lady, up to and including the Duchess of Norwood, whose breeding is better than mine. Last night I was inundated with friends eager to tell me how fortunate I was to win your hand, and by a couple who accused Reggie of hiding you away until it was too late for them to court you. So quit this maudlin prattling about being unworthy. It makes you sound as if you were inviting compliments.”

  She sighed, looking out at the square. Pigeons settled into the trees as the sun dipped toward the horizon. “Your mother hates me.”

  “Probably. Reggie already threatened to banish her to a remote Scottish property the moment Father dies. I think it an admirable idea.” His words spun her back to face the room. “But surely you realize why she hates you. She wants to run the Close after Father’s death. Thus she will approve only the most weak-willed, insipid girl in Society. You are not such a miss, thank God.”

  “True.” She bit her lip. “Let us leave off Society for the moment. You claimed you never disliked me, yet I could see it clearly in your face. So why should I believe you?”

  “How? No one else noticed anything amiss.”

  “You have very expressive eyes, Sedge. Color. Intensity. Brilliance. All respond to your mood. Last night was the first time since the masquerade that they stayed blue.”

  “Interesting. And a little frightening. I had not realized that I inherited Father’s eyes.”

  “If no one told you, that is hardly surprising. I doubt you stop to examine your face when in the grip of strong emotion. But if you know the phenomenon, then you can hardly protest my impressions.”

  “Yes, I’ve been upset, but it was not your fault, Joanna.” He resumed his pacing. “Three months ago a schemer nearly trapped me into marriage. I was still reeling from my escape when we met, so Mother’s claim that you were plotting to attach Reggie revived that earlier fury. Inadvertently compromising you made it worse, even though I knew you were nothing like Lady Cecilia. The situation also forced me to relinquish my hopes of finding a wife I truly cared for.”

  She managed to stifle her instinctive flinch, but cold pooled in her stomach. “You can still pursue that goal, Sedge. An annulment will leave you free.”

  “It did not occur to me that fate had served me well,” he continued as if she had not spoken. “The anger finally passed while I was at Wicksfield Manor. I had hoped to make a fresh start, for I realized – much too late – that I had been wrong to ignore your own feelings. I should not have treated you so badly.”

  “Not badly, but as an ignorant child who might mortify you at any moment.”

  “Good God! I have been beastly, haven’t I? I did not truly think you incompetent, but I needed to hold you at a distance because—” He broke off.

  “Because why?” She waited, but he did not answer. “You said only yesterday that we must be honest with each other.”

  He sighed. “I thought you were in love with Reggie.”

  “What?”

  “You seemed so close.”

  “We are friends, Sedge. Nothing more.”

  So she remained unaware of Reggie’s feelings. “I know that now. But I couldn’t—” Again he paused.

  She met his eyes. “That explains it.” She turned back to the window, unsure whether to feel insulted or pleased at the reason behind his failure to visit her bed.

  “Give me a chance, Joanna. I’ve made a mull of things so far, but I want you to stay.”

  The arrogant Lord Sedgewick Wylie begging? It didn’t seem possible. “What are you trying to say?”

  “You embody every trait I had hoped to find in a wife – and much more.”

  “Don’t exaggerate.”

  “I’m not. All you lack is confidence, but that is already growing. Yesterday was the most enjoyable day of my life, despite Father’s arrival. After Reggie announced his departure, I looked for you, needing your calm to restore my own. When I found you gone, I nearly died. I love you, my dear. Can you please give me a chance? If we start over, maybe we can get it right.”

  She hesitated, afraid that he was manipulating her again. But a glance over her shoulder revealed a Sedge she had never thought to see. His face was open, without a mask. She could read honesty there. And uncertainty. The great arbiter of fashion, who dictated to high and low alike, was terrified of her answer.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she managed. “I love you, Sedge.”

  “Joanna.” He pulled her into his arms, crushing her close as he caught her mouth in a passionate kiss. “It’s true. You really do care,” he murmured when he paused to catch his breath.

  “So do you.” Her hand traced the line of his jaw, reveling in its rough texture. He had not shaved since yesterday morning – another indication of truth. He had chased her halfway across town in an open carriage, wearing a crumpled cravat and day-old beard. He hadn’t even flinched when his fellow dandies had spotted him in mud-spattered clothes making a cake of himself with an exhibition of cow-handed driving. “What would your imitators think if they could see you now?”

  “Who cares?” He scooped her up and carried her into his bedroom. “Let Kingsford look after them. I need you, love. After a day of losses, I need to celebrate what I have found.”

  “And what is that?” Her fingers untied his cravat.

  “You. A woman of substance. Someone who can stand at my side, through joy and sorrow, victory and defeat. With your support, I can face anything.” Her gown landed on the floor. “And thank God for that. Between Father’s imminent death and Reggie’s departure, life will be complicated for a good long time.”

  “But we can handle it.”

  “I know.” He kissed her again, then tugged off his shirt, abandoning the last trace of languid boredom. “Dear God, Joanna. I’ve wanted you since that day on Mount Street.”

  “Really?” She saw the truth in his eyes and laughed. “Once you grabbed Maximillian and left, the first thing I did was thank God I hadn’t blurted out something stupid about your broad shoulders or incre
dible strength. That’s another of my failings when I’m embarrassed.”

  “Then I’d better embarrass you right now,” he said, grinning as he twirled her around and set her on the bed. “I love you, Joanna. I should have realized it on Bond Street. Why else would your words have the power to destroy my control?”

  Another kiss prevented any response, but she didn’t care. Her last fears vanished, lost in the glow of his love.

  Copyright © 1999 by Susan Ann Pace

  Originally published by Signet Regency (0451198255)

  Electronically published in 2006 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

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  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.