‘I am no more than average, I assure you,’ Laurence replied, surprised that Joanna, who was the only person in the room to have heard him play, would have made mention of it.
‘Nevertheless, I wonder if you might consider performing a duet with my daughter,’ Mrs Gavin said. ‘Jane has a very pretty singing voice.’
‘Of course, if your daughter is agreeable.’
‘Oh, yes, I would be delighted,’ Miss Gavin said, colouring prettily.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ her mother announced, ‘we are to be treated to a rare musical performance. Mr Bretton has kindly agreed to accompany my daughter, Jane, on the pianoforte.’
Joanna was standing by the glass cabinet with her aunt and Lady Amberley when the startling announcement was made.
‘How unusual,’ Lady Cynthia murmured. ‘Jane is always so reserved in company. She never volunteers to stand up and perform, let alone to sing with a gentleman.’
‘I think Mr Bretton must have put her at her ease,’ Lady Amberley said, turning to watch the pair make their way to the pianoforte. ‘Such a charming man, is he not? So modest and unassuming.’
Joanna said nothing as the couple took their places, though the countess’s words struck a jarring note. Laurence—she could no longer think of him as Mr Bretton—sat down at the pianoforte and began to thumb through the selection of sheet music while Jane stood quietly to one side. He offered a remark to which she smiled and nodded, after which he withdrew two sheets of music that he set on top of the others. Then, placing his fingers upon the keys, he began to play.
Conversation died as the opening strains of an old English love song filled the air. It was a well-known piece and Joanna had heard it played many times before, but not with the level of skill and emotion Laurence brought to it now. It was as though he knew what the composer had in mind when he’d written the melody so many years ago.
Nor could there be any question that he had chosen the piece with Jane in mind. Sweetly sentimental, it suited her golden voice to perfection and the room was soon filled with the sound. She was even able to smile as she looked out over her audience.
Joanna could scarcely believe this was the same girl who had once burst into tears at being asked to recite a piece of poetry in front of her family.
‘Gracious, is there nothing the man cannot do?’ Lady Amberley whispered. ‘I had no idea Miss Gavin could sing so beautifully.’
‘Perhaps she has never been given the opportunity,’ Joanna whispered, knowing it was Laurence who had allowed Jane to blossom in front of a room full of strangers.
At that point, a beaming Mrs Gavin came over to join them. ‘Well, is this not a most auspicious occasion? I have never seen Jane look happier, nor do I remember the last time she appeared so at ease in the company of a gentleman. I fear she is in danger of losing her heart to Mr Bretton and I think he is not unaware of her.’
As though to confirm her words, Joanna saw the two performers smile at one another, and when the piece came to an end to much enthusiastic applause, Laurence stood up and escorted Jane back to her chair. He stood and chatted with her for a moment before moving away to talk to Mr Stanton-Howard, but the smile did not fade from Jane’s face. Clearly she had fallen under his spell, the same as had most of the other women in the room, Joanna reflected.
The same way she had—
‘Lady Joanna,’ Mr Rowe said. ‘Forgive the intrusion, but might I have a word with you in private?’
His voice was jarring, a discordant note in the music of her thoughts. ‘I hardly think this is the time or the place, Mr Rowe.’
‘It will only take a moment.’
Joanna sighed. She didn’t want to talk to him and certainly had no wish to be alone with him. But fearing he might say something to her in public that would lead to an even more embarrassing scene in private, Joanne reluctantly rose and led the way on to the landing. Once there, she turned without ceremony to face him. ‘Yes, Mr Rowe?’
‘Lady Joanna, I can hear in your voice that you are annoyed with me, but I hope you will not continue to feel that way once I have said what I need to,’ Mr Rowe said pompously. ‘You must know that I care deeply for you and that what I am about to say springs from a sincere concern for your welfare.’
‘I appreciate that, Mr Rowe,’ Joanna said, all but spitting with impatience. ‘But please do get on with it.’
‘Yes, of course. This is a little awkward, but I feel I really must make my feelings known—’
‘Mr Rowe!’
‘I am aware that Mr Bretton is well thought of by certain members of society,’ Mr Rowe said in a rush, ‘but I strongly feel I must caution you to be on your guard around him. I think it was obvious to everyone in the room that he harbours inappropriate feelings for you.’
‘Inappropriate feelings?’ Joanna stared at the man in astonishment. ‘Mr Bretton hardly knows me.’
‘On the contrary, you must have seen the way he was looking at you. The way he was watching you throughout dinner. The lascivious intent in his eyes. Theatre people are like that, you know.’
‘Are they?’ Joanna said drily.
‘Indeed, and you must be on guard against them! You have your reputation to consider and that is a most sacred and precious thing.’
The reason for Mr Rowe’s prolonged bachelorhood was no longer a surprise to Joanna. The fact she had somehow managed to refrain from slapping him was. ‘Mr Rowe, while I appreciate your concern for my reputation, it really is not necessary. Nor is this conversation, which is now at an end.’
‘But, Lady Joanna—’
‘And before you make any more disparaging remarks about Mr Bretton, let me just say that I did not like what I saw of your behaviour this evening and I think it decidedly unbecoming in the conduct of a gentleman. You were rude and condescending and I have no interest in furthering the acquaintance. Good evening, Mr Rowe!’
Joanna turned on her heel and walked back into the drawing room, leaving Mr Rowe red faced and spluttering on the landing. What an obnoxious little man! She didn’t care if he had eighty thousand a year, nothing would have compelled her to marry him. Laurence Bretton might be a mere playwright in his eyes, but he was a prince as far as she was concerned!
And so she would tell anyone else who thought to ask.
* * *
It was almost midnight before Laurence finally bid his host and hostess a good evening.
‘A most enjoyable gathering, my lord, Lady Cynthia,’ he said, aware of Joanna standing quietly off to one side.
‘We were delighted you were able to come, Mr Bretton,’ Lady Cynthia said. ‘Who would have thought that London’s most talented playwright would turn out to be such an informed historian and liberal thinker, to say nothing of such an accomplished musician?’
‘It was Miss Gavin’s singing that elevated the performance,’ Laurence said, knowing that while it was expected that he would offer the lady a compliment, what he said was true.
‘You are kind to say so, but I think we all know you have won yet another lady’s affection and admiration this evening.’
Laurence acknowledged the compliment, knowing full well there was only one lady whose affection and admiration he wished to win. ‘It was a privilege talking to you this evening, Lord Bonnington,’ he said, addressing the earl. ‘I wonder if I might stop by later this week and ask you a few questions about the Rosetta Stone?’
‘The Rosetta Stone. Yes, by all means,’ Bonnington said, ‘though I must admit to not knowing a great deal about it beyond what has been written by the French. I can give you the name, however, of a fellow who has been studying it rather assiduously.’
Laurence inclined his head. ‘I would like that.’
The timely arrival of another couple to bid their goodnights allowed Laurence to move on, but in doing so, he caught Joanna’s gaze.
‘I’ll walk out with you,’ she said, and without waiting for his agreement started for the door.
Laurence followed her
out to the street, where a young lad was dispatched to find his carriage. He felt the chill in the night air and noticing Joanna’s bare arms, said, ‘You really should go back inside. The temperature has dropped considerably.’
‘I know, but I find it rather refreshing after the heat of the house.’ She crossed her arms in front of her chest, hugging her arms as she stared into the night sky. ‘I know it is customary, and of course, polite, to say that one enjoyed the evening as one is bidding goodnight to one’s host and hostess, but did you really enjoy it, Mr Bretton?’
Laurence raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Did I appear as though I did not?’
‘No. You were the perfect guest,’ she said. ‘You were paraded about before dinner, cross examined during it and made to perform when it was over. Yet never once did you look ill at ease or as though you wished you were somewhere else. I simply find myself wondering how enjoyable it really was.’ She brought her gaze back to his and her eyes were troubled. ‘I know I should have hated it.’
He managed a small smile, touched by her concern. ‘I admit it was akin to trial by fire, but it is not the first time it has happened. People seem to think that what a man does is all that he is. I refuse to accept that.’
Her eyes fell before his and she nibbled on her bottom lip. ‘I am not without guilt in that regard and I do regret it,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Just as I deeply regret the way you were treated by...some of the other guests this evening.’
Laurence knew to whom she was referring, but was surprised she would make mention of it, given that she was probably going to marry one of them. ‘I was not offended by what Mr Rowe or Captain Sterne said, Lady Joanna. They are as entitled to their opinions as I am to mine.’
‘But they were wrong to put you on the spot like that,’ Joanna said. ‘Their behaviour was uncalled for and I deeply regret that you were treated so disrespectfully.’
‘And I appreciate you saying as much, but to be honest, I really don’t care what Rowe or Sterne think of me. Only what you do.’
Her eyes flew up to his. ‘That matters to you?’
‘Of course. How could you think otherwise?’
She shook her head, her expression troubled. ‘I don’t know. I don’t seem to know anything any more. Life has suddenly become...so confusing.’
‘I know,’ Laurence agreed, thinking of how upside down his own life had become in the last year. ‘And in that regard, there is something I would have settled between us once and for all.’
A tiny furrow appeared between her brows. ‘Yes?’
‘When we first met at the Temple of the Muses, I made no mention of my being Valentine Lawe because I was not there in the guise of the playwright,’ Laurence said, wanting what few things that could be open and honest between them to be so. ‘I was there looking for books about Egypt and when I heard you express the same interest, I saw no reason to discuss the nature of my other occupation. The omission was not calculated in any way, nor would I would want you to think I had approached you with any other purpose in mind.’
Joanna nodded, but the line between her brows deepened. ‘I know that your offer was prompted by the most generous of motives, even if I did not know it at the time. You have long proven what kind of man you are and cleared up any misconceptions I may have had,’ she said quietly. ‘I have seen you with your family, and with friends. I even watched you bring out a side of a young lady I have never seen in all the years I’ve known her.’
He looked amused. ‘Miss Gavin?’
‘Indeed. Jane has never sung in public before, but she sang with you tonight and even appeared to be enjoying it.’
‘She has a lovely voice.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the point,’ Joanna said as another couple walked by. ‘You gave her the confidence she needed to stand up and sing in front of all those people. No one else ever has, which only proves what a very special man you are.’
He swallowed hard and glanced away. ‘I am no more or less than I was before, Lady Joanna. It is only that you have come to know me better. But I am not without secrets.’
‘Who amongst us is?’ Joanna said, her smile tinged with sadness. ‘Who in that room tonight did not have a least one secret they would never wish anyone to know, lest they be thought the less of for its discovery?’
Laurence smiled. ‘What secrets have you, my lady, that could possibly make anyone think less of you? I know I could not—’
‘Getting a little personal, aren’t you, Bretton?’
The words were like a dash of cold water and Joanna jumped. ‘Captain Sterne!’
‘Lady Joanna. Sorry to interrupt your little tête-à-tête,’ Sterne drawled, ‘but I wanted to make sure I had a chance to tell you how much I enjoyed your company this evening. I admire a woman who has the courage to stand up for her convictions. You spoke passionately of your beliefs and are to be commended for it. As I told your father over dinner the other evening.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna said, though Laurence heard the note of reserve in her voice. ‘I wasn’t aware the two of you had dined together.’
‘Actually, I have enjoyed several meals with your father.’ Sterne smiled down at her, completely ignoring Laurence. ‘There were matters I wished to discuss with him, one being of particular importance, though this is neither the time nor the place to go into it. The matter can wait until we find ourselves in a more...private setting.’ He finally flicked a brief, dismissive glance in Laurence’s direction before turning to smile at Joanna again. ‘I look forward to the pleasure of calling on you very soon, Lady Joanna. And to furthering what has become, for me, a thoroughly delightful acquaintance.’
Even through the darkness, Laurence saw the blush that rose in Joanna’s cheeks and the reason for it struck him forcibly. Rowe wasn’t the danger now, Sterne was. Apart from having a demonstrated interest in Egypt, he was the wealthy son of a peer and he was actively pursuing Joanna.
Was that what he had discussed with her father over their several dinners together? Bonnington’s plans for Abu Simbel—and Sterne’s plans for her?
‘Well, I won’t keep you any longer, Lady Joanna,’ Laurence said, the note of forced joviality grating even to his own ears. ‘You should go back inside. The air grows chill.’
‘Mr Bretton, wait—’
But Laurence didn’t wait. What was the point? After Sterne’s little speech, there clearly wasn’t anything else that needed saying. Whether she knew it or not, Joanna’s life was mapped out—and Laurence wasn’t so stupid as to believe that he had any part in it. The gulf between them was too wide, the consequences of such a liaison too far reaching.
Joanna was the daughter of an earl and, by her own admission, earl’s daughters did not indulge in romantic liaisons with their father’s employees—or with playwrights! Another man—one far more suitable in every way—was going to ask her to marry him and she was probably going to say yes.
If ever he’d needed proof that his hopes in Joanna’s direction were wasted, he had surely just been given it.
Chapter Eight
In the silence of her bedroom, Joanna sat as still as a statue as her maid went through the nightly ritual of taking down her hair and brushing it out. The bedtime custom was usually a soothing prelude to sleep, but tonight her mind was far too troubled to be calmed in such a way.
Captain Sterne was going to propose. He hadn’t come right out and said as much, but Joanna knew that’s what he intended. His not-so-subtle reference to the particular topic he and her father had discussed had not gone unnoticed because Sterne hadn’t intended that it should. He’d wanted Laurence to know that he had spoken to her father about marrying her, just as he’d wanted both of them to know that her father had not discouraged his suit.
Laurence certainly knew it. It was the reason, Joanna felt sure, that after a decidedly brusque goodnight, he had climbed into his carriage and driven away without waiting to hear what she had to say and without so much as a backwards glance. And all t
he while, Sterne had stood beside her with a smug look on his face and the air of a man well satisfied with what he had done.
And to think this was the man her father wanted her to marry!
But was it, Joanna wondered, because he genuinely liked Captain Sterne or because Sterne was the only man to have come along with the kind of fortune necessary to pay off her father’s debts and save the estate—?
‘You’re frowning, miss,’ Sarah said as she drew the brush slowly through Joanna’s hair. ‘Makes me think you’ve something on your mind.’
Joanna raised her head and met her maid’s eyes in the glass. ‘I do, Sarah, but I don’t know what to do about it.’
‘Has it something to do with Mr Bretton?’
Surprised, Joanna said, ‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because he likes you, my lady. And a handsome man he surely is.’
Joanna let her gaze drift back down to the table. ‘Yes, he is.’ Trust the servants to be gossiping about Laurence already. But Sarah was right. Laurence did like her and, worse, she was coming to like him and a great deal more than she should.
But, like Romeo and Juliet, their relationship was destined to fail. She had no idea what Laurence’s financial circumstances were, though she doubted they were anywhere near Captain Sterne’s. And even setting the matter of wealth aside, Laurence didn’t have the standing in society that would allow him to take their relationship any further.
Sterne did. As Lord Rinstrom’s heir, he had excellent connections and a fortune to go with it. At one time, that wouldn’t have mattered to Joanna. At one time, she had been free to choose who she would marry.
Now she was not. And the knowledge that she was falling in love with a man she could not have only made it all that much worse.
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ Joanna said, abruptly getting up from the table. ‘Goodnight.’
The maid put the brush down on the dressing table and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Goodnight, miss.’
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