Laurence said nothing as Loftus walked out of the room. So, the man would stoop to blackmail. Now there was no doubt in his mind as to why his uncle had fallen out with him. The two had entirely different values when it came to the theatre.
Sir Michael wanted Valentine Lawe’s next play to be staged at Drury Lane and if that didn’t happen he was quite prepared to do whatever was necessary to destroy not only Valentine Lawe’s career, but Theo Templeton’s as well. It had happened before. Jealous theatre owners scheduling the opening of new plays on the same nights, ambitious managers stealing actors and actresses from the other company and critics making sure bad reviews greeted the opening night’s performance. All guaranteed to bring about financial ruin and an early close to the play’s run.
Clearly, the gloves were off. If Laurence didn’t produce a play that stood up to Sir Michael’s expectations within the required time, he might as well go to Egypt and stay there—because he certainly wasn’t going to have a career when he came back.
* * *
The invitation to Winifred Bretton’s engagement celebration arrived the following morning.
Joanna prayed they were already engaged for the evening, but as it turned out, an unexpected cancellation had left them without any plans and Lady Cynthia said that of course they must go. If Mr Bretton was to become a member of her brother’s expedition, it was only right that they take the opportunity to become better acquainted with his family and what better opportunity than the betrothal celebration for his youngest sister?
Not at all convinced that it was, Joanna had got dressed on the appointed evening, weighted down by guilt and suffering with a blinding megrim. She had been afflicted with these debilitating pains ever since she was a child, but it was years since she’d had one this bad.
Considering everything that was going on around her, it really wasn’t all that surprising.
* * *
The engagement celebration was well underway by the time Joanna, her father and Lady Cynthia arrived. Guests crammed the hall and moved slowly through the receiving line, stopping to chat with the various family members as they passed. Mrs Devlin introduced Joanna and her family to her parents, both of whom were clearly delighted by their youngest daughter’s good fortune, and then to Winifred and Mr Fulton, the latter appearing proud as punch of his beautiful bride-to-be.
Laurence was noticeable by his absence and, after offering her heartfelt congratulations to the happy couple, Joanna moved on, hoping to find him in the crowded reception room. She had given a great deal of thought to what she intended to say to him tonight. First and foremost was the absolute need to clear up the misunderstanding between them with regard to Captain Sterne and his intentions towards her. Joanna intended to make it very clear that she was not in love with Sterne and that she had no intention of marrying him. Her father might approve of the idea and her aunt wholeheartedly endorse it, but Joanna was the only one who could say yes and she had absolutely no intention of doing that. There had to be some other way of saving the estate, a way that did not necessitate her scarifying her soul.
Her father had said it of his own situation. It wasn’t fair to go into a marriage when he had so little of his heart to give. Neither did Joanna. She had given her heart to Laurence. There was nothing left for anyone else—
‘I did suggest Mother stop at fifty,’ said the familiar voice close to her ear, ‘but she told me she could not possibly reduce the guest list to fewer than seventy-five, and as you can see, the house would have been crowded at thirty.’
Astonished by the pleasure she felt at hearing Laurence’s voice again, Joanna turned to see him standing a few feet behind her, his dark good looks literally taking her breath away. Within the space of a few seconds, her heart was racing—which, unfortunately, did nothing to ease the pounding in her head.
‘My aunt would not have done it any differently,’ Joanna said, trying not to wince. ‘A crush must have at least one poor lady fainting from the heat in order to be deemed a success.’
‘A regrettable truth made even more so by the fact my mother subscribes to it.’ He looked at her and, abruptly, his smile disappeared. ‘You’re in pain. What’s wrong?’
Joanna sighed. So much for putting on a good face. ‘I have a rather bad megrim,’ she admitted. ‘And as much as I want to be here celebrating your sister’s good news, I would be far better off in a dark room with a cold cloth pressed over my eyes.’
‘Poor thing, you shouldn’t have come at all,’ he said. ‘Would you like me to make your excuses? I’m sure no one would object.’
Joanna shook her head, not wishing to be deprived of a single moment of his company. ‘No, though if you could lead me to a quiet spot in the house, I would be most grateful.’
‘I’m not sure there is a quiet spot in the house tonight,’ Laurence said ruefully. ‘And even if there was, it would not be a good idea that I take you there.’
‘Why not?’
There was a long moment of waiting before he said, in a voice of quiet resignation, ‘Because I would be tempted to say things I should not and that I would no doubt come to regret later.’
His voice was calm, his eyes on the people moving around them, but when he turned to look at her, Joanna saw the fire smouldering in their depths and knew a moment of intense and passionate relief. He was not indifferent towards her. Despite what he’d said about Captain Sterne, Laurence did have feelings for her and if the situation presented itself, he would tell her how he felt.
Suddenly, Joanna knew how desperately she needed to hear those words. To know that he felt as passionately about her as she did about him. ‘What would you say to me, Mr Bretton, that you feel you should not?’
He closed his eyes, shutting the fire away. ‘Do not ask me to tell you what I have no right to say.’
‘You have as much right as any man here.’
‘No, I do not. I have neither wealth nor position, and even to be considered as a husband for you, a man must have both,’ Laurence said. ‘You would be damaging your reputation beyond repair for entering into what we both know would be a terrible mésalliance.’
‘I don’t care!’ Joanna whispered. ‘My heart is still my own, Mr Bretton, and I want very much to hear what you would say to me.’
‘Lady Joanna—’
‘Please!’ she said, her voice beseeching. ‘I do not know what the future holds, Mr Bretton, but if you would say only one thing to me tonight, I beg you say it now. What would you tell me if I was plain Joanna Northrup again, with no obligations to my name or responsibilities to my position?’
His eyes opened wide, his gaze returning to her face with a look of understanding mingled with hope, and just for a moment, Joanna caught a glimpse of something wonderful. Something she had only ever dreamt of finding before.
‘I would tell you,’ he said slowly, ‘that I am not myself when I am around you. That I am like...a starving man who sees in you all he needs to stay alive. I would tell you that I have never seen a woman’s complexion glow with such warmth that I wonder if I would burn were I to touch it. And I would tell you,’ he murmured, moving closer, ‘that you are, without question, the most beautiful and desirable woman I have ever known and that the thought of seeing you married to another man tears me apart.’
A hot ache grew in Joanna’s throat; a shiver of longing making her lean towards him. His eyes dropped to her mouth and Joanna knew that if they had been anywhere else, he would have kissed her. And God help her, she wanted him to. ‘Laurence—’
‘No, there is something else I must say,’ he interrupted. ‘God knows I have no right, but I cannot let you continue on this path without knowing what lies in wait for you at the end.’ He stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as though trying to draw strength. ‘I know Sterne intends to offer for you and while I suspect I know how you will answer, I beg you to think carefully before you do. Because if you do not give his proposal the consideration it deserves, you will be making a t
errible mistake.’
It was the last thing Joanna expected. ‘I don’t understand. What kind of mistake?’
‘One that will dictate how you spend the rest of your life.’
She smiled, because she knew what he didn’t. ‘But I know how I will be spending it—’
‘No, you don’t. Ask Sterne if he plans to allow you to travel to Egypt after you are married!’ Laurence said, cutting her off. ‘Do not assume that because you’ve gone with your father in the past that Sterne will allow you to do so after you are his wife.’
‘But...why would he not let me go?’ Joanna asked, ignoring for a moment the fact that she had no intention of marrying Captain Sterne. ‘He knows how important Papa’s work is to me.’
‘Perhaps, but he is more concerned with propriety than he is with your interests. Your father is of the same opinion—’
‘My father?’ Joanna said, wincing as the pain in her head intensified. ‘You’ve spoken to him about this?’
‘Yes, when I went to tell him I couldn’t accept his offer.’
‘But...you did accept it.’
‘Only after he told me that in all likelihood you wouldn’t be going.’ Laurence took a step towards her, his voice low. ‘Don’t you understand? It was the only thing he could have said that would have made me change my mind, Joanna. Surely to God you know the reasons why—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Winifred!’
Joanna whirled. Laurence’s younger sister was standing behind her, her cheeks as red as summer poppies. Clearly, she had heard the end of their conversation and had no idea what to make of it.
‘Yes, Win?’ Laurence prompted. ‘Did you have something to ask me?’
The girl blinked. ‘I’m so sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘It doesn’t matter. What do you want?’
The brusqueness of Laurence’s words caused the girl’s colour to rise even higher. ‘Mr Fulton asked me to...come and find you. He said he wanted to talk to you about something.’
‘Can it wait?’
‘I...don’t know.’ Winifred flicked an uncertain glance at Joanna. ‘I didn’t think you would be too busy to talk to him.’
A shadow of annoyance briefly darkened Laurence’s face, but his voice, when he spoke, was uninflected. ‘Tell Mr Fulton I shall be there directly.’
Winifred nodded and, with an uncertain smile for Joanna, fled.
Laurence stared at the floor, the muscles in his jaw working. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said finally. ‘Maybe I had no right to say what I did about Sterne, but I did it out of a genuine concern for you.’
Numbly, Joanna nodded. She wished he had never brought the other man’s name into the conversation. There was tension between them now that had never been there before and she hated it. ‘I am grateful for your concern, Mr Bretton, but...it really isn’t necessary.’ She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her temples in an effort to ease the pain. ‘That’s what I wanted to tell you—’
‘Whatever you wish to tell me can wait,’ Laurence said firmly. ‘You need to go home.’
‘No, I’ll be all right,’ Joanna said, though the churning in her stomach suggested otherwise. ‘Please, go and talk to Mr Fulton.’
‘He can wait too. You need me more than he does.’
What she needed, Joanna thought wearily, was to sit in the darkness of her room and sort out what was going on in her life...and what she was going to do about it. But for now, she had to deal with the situation confronting her. ‘Perhaps I do just need...a few minutes alone. You and I can talk later. For now, go to your sister and her fiancé. This is their night. Please don’t spoil it because of me.’
‘You could never spoil anything,’ he said with infinite gentleness. ‘But I will make arrangements for a carriage to take you home. We can talk when you are feeling better. In the interim, there is a room at the top of the stairs, second door on the right. Go there and wait for me to send word that the carriage is ready. You won’t be disturbed and you will be able to get some much-needed peace and quiet.’
With that, he finally did leave and Joanna closed her eyes, massaging her aching temples. She would have preferred to wait for the arrival of the carriage down here, but when another burst of laughter brought on a blinding stab of pain that caused the bile to rise in her throat, she realised it was better that she be alone.
She took a deep breath and stood up, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Then, slowly, she started towards the stairs, carefully putting one foot in front of the other. She was jostled almost every step of the way, until the pounding in her head brought tears to her eyes and made it difficult to see, but she had to keep going. She desperately needed a few minutes alone, not only because of her headache but because of what Laurence had just said to her...
...it was the only thing he could have said that would have made me change my mind. Surely to God you know the reason why....
Joanna closed her eyes, one hand on the banister as she began to climb the stairs. Yes, she knew why. How could she ignore the unspoken message? Laurence wanted to go to Egypt more than anything else in the world. More than he wanted to stay here in London and write plays. It didn’t matter that he had no experience of the desert conditions, or that Captain Sterne would probably have made his life hell. He had been willing to risk both for a chance to travel to a place he had always wanted to see.
But he would not have gone if she had been there as Sterne’s wife. There was only one reason a man would say something like that. Only one conclusion Joanna could draw—
‘—hoped they would marry from our house, of course, but if Winifred’s heart is set on having the reception here, then here it must be...’
Joanna abruptly stopped. Opening her eyes, she glanced at her surroundings in confusion. Where had that voice come from? She had reached the landing, but there was only one door on the right, not two. Had she gone up one flight too many or had she still one to go? She had been so immersed in her thoughts she hadn’t paid any attention—
‘...I’m sure you understand when I say that her father and I wish to do everything we can to see her safely married to Mr Fulton,’ a different voice said. ‘She came so close to losing him over that wretched affair with Victoria, but it all came right once Laurence told Sir Michael that he was Valentine Lawe.’
Joanna’s eyes opened wide. She knew that voice. It belonged to Laurence’s mother. But who was the other woman? And why were they talking about Valentine Lawe—?
‘...of course it did,’ that lady replied. ‘Maintaining the story was the only logical thing to do. We would all be in very different circumstances now had Laurence not stepped forwards to claim the role.’
‘Yes, well, I think the least said about that, the better,’ Mrs Bretton said. ‘I cannot bear to think what would have happened had Laurence kept silent and let Victoria tell Sir Michael the truth about Valentine Lawe...’
Joanna choked back a gasp. The truth about Valentine Lawe? What in heaven’s name were they talking about? Everyone knew that Laurence was Valentine Lawe. She had been there in the theatre when his play had been performed. She had heard the audience calling his name and had watched him stand up and acknowledge their cheers. He even referred to himself by that name. He would never have done that if he wasn’t Valentine Lawe!
But his mother had just inferred that Victoria had not told someone the truth about Valentine Lawe. Then what was the truth? Who really was Valentine Lawe?
More importantly, if it wasn’t Laurence, why had he tried to fool everyone into believing that he was?
Chapter Eleven
In the dining room, Laurence stood and listened to his future brother-in-law’s request that he be a groomsman at the wedding, and wondered why the man felt it necessary to make that particular request at this particular moment. There were far more important things both of them should be doing—and going upstairs and apologising to Joanna was most certainly at the top of his list!
He should never have told her that Stern
e had no intention of letting her go to Egypt after they were married. Joanna’s relationship with the other man was none of his business. If she wanted to marry him, let her! She had every right to do so.
But not to ruin her life! Not when you know something that could prevent her from doing that, the voice argued. If Sterne wasn’t going to tell her the truth, someone else had to. And Laurence knew damn well that he had no choice. That someone had to be him—
‘Mr Bretton?’
Laurence looked up to see Henry Fulton staring at him and realised the man was still waiting for an answer to his question. A question Laurence couldn’t have cared less about. ‘Yes, yes, of course, I will play whatever part in the wedding you wish. Now if you’ll excuse me...’
He didn’t wait for a response. The only thing that mattered was finding Joanna and trying to make her understand what was going on. There were things that needed to be said. Things he had to make clear between them. And he needed to find out exactly how she felt about him. Conflicting messages had been flying back and forth all night. How was a man supposed to know where he stood in a lady’s affections if he couldn’t make any sense of what the lady was trying to say—
‘Joanna!’ Laurence came to an abrupt halt. She was standing at the foot of the stairs and he could tell in a glance that she was in even more pain than before. Her complexion was grey, there were faint purple shadows under her eyes and her beautiful mouth was compressed into a thin white line. Whatever he wanted to say was going to have to wait. ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and see if the carriage has arrived—’
‘No, wait. Please,’ she said, whispering the words as though speaking in a normal voice would only cause her more pain. ‘I must ask you a question.’
‘You may ask me anything you wish,’ Laurence said, hating to see her in such misery. ‘But can it not wait until tomorrow?’
‘No, it must be now.’ Joanna closed her eyes, her lashes casting dark shadows on her cheeks. ‘I heard something...just now. Something I was...not meant to hear and that I don’t know whether to believe or not. But I have to know the truth and you must be the one to tell me.’
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