The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley (10 page)

David launched himself at his friend.
Pierce’s chair toppled, sending both of them sprawling. David’s
elbow connected with the table in the fall, shooting sparks of pain
up his arm. Rolling off his friend, David jumped to his feet,
shaking his hand. “Bollocks, that hurt.”

Pierce climbed to his feet and rubbed the
back of his head. He righted the chair, waving off an approaching
footman. “What were you thinking, man?”

“I didn’t think. I reacted. Don’t talk about
Hannah in that manner. And don’t
ever
consider making her
your own. I know you too well to allow it.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. I’ve never seen you
like this. You’re like the dog guarding the sheep.”

“That’s what it feels like. No man will get
past me to hurt my sister. Any of my sisters.”

Pierce slanted him a look that said he’d
gone mad. “I don’t doubt it.”

David sucked on the tenderest of his
knuckles, then motioned to the hallway. “Shall we play some
billiards?”

“Might as well. We’ve clearly exhausted all
safe topics of conversation.” After gulping the last of his drink,
Pierce followed him out of the room.

Chapter Eight

Upon entering the dining room at breakfast,
Joanna was startled to see her brother in his spot at the end of
the table. “You’re here rather late. You aren’t needed in the House
of Lords this morning?”

He rattled the newspaper in his hands. “I
must tend to some business.”

Since he went back to reading, she nibbled
at her toast in the silence she was accustomed to. Mama drank her
chocolate in bed most mornings, allowing Joanna to enjoy the
stillness before callers began their rounds or she left on her own
errands. Some mornings, however, the weight of the quiet made her
wish to escape their home.

“How is Mother?”

Joanna jumped at her brother’s voice. “Much
the same. Well enough to not require the doctor, but not well
enough to receive callers.”

He grunted in response. Recalling the
conversation she’d had with Sir Frederick at Mrs. Stanford’s ball,
she decided to question Robert now, when neither of them was
overstressed. “I’ve met an acquaintance of yours on several
occasions of late. Sir Frederick Aldwen. He makes me rather
uncomfortable as he presumes an introduction when none has taken
place.”

Her brother lowered the newspaper and took a
sip of his coffee. “Sir Frederick, you say? I’m, uh, rather
surprised. I was not aware he attended the type of assemblies
you’ve been invited to.”

“Not only has he been to the balls, but he
has accosted me on the street and suggested I walk with him. He’s
quite uncivilized.”

Pursing his lips, he ran his thumb over the
corners of the folded paper. “He is rather, isn’t he? I’ve only
spoken to him regarding business matters, but I can see where he’d
be awkward in some situations.” His brows drew together, deepening
the crease between them.

“I’m at wits end about how to deal with him.
Why, at Mrs. Stanford’s ball, he had the nerve to imply there was a
betrothal between us.”

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “He did?
Did anyone hear him say this?”

“Hopefully, no one outside those at our
table heard. Mr. Lumley and his sister Lady Hannah were the others
present. The tables were close together, but conversation was so
lively throughout the room, I doubt anyone was listening.”

“I suppose that’s in our favor. But why were
you sitting with Mr. Lumley? How are you acquainted with him?”

Her lips pulled tight and she sighed. Mr.
Lumley was the least of her problems. Why was Robert focusing on
that man? She didn’t really hope that Mr. Lumley might offer for
her, but he was certainly the best of the prospects she’d seen to
date. If the gentleman did ask for her hand, she would not turn him
down, and her brother had better get over whatever irritation he
had toward the man. “He is escorting his sister when he is in Town.
Lady Bridgethorpe and Mama are old friends, and I met Lady Hannah
while making calls with Mama shortly after we arrived in
London.”

Robert said nothing. She chewed her lip for
a moment, deciding now was as good a time as any to learn where she
stood. “Is it really necessary I find a husband before the end of
the Season? I could join Aunt Ophelia in Bath for the summer. I
know she’d enjoy the company.”

“We cannot afford a trip to Bath.”

“How much of an expense could it be? She has
a home there, and if I travel with her, it will cost nothing but my
meals on the trip, and a room at the inn on the way. I won’t need
additional clothes after what I bought these past months. There are
many families I might meet in Bath who do not come to London.”

“It cannot be considered. Do not belabor
this, Joanna.”

“I don’t understand the sudden need to be
rid of me. Didn’t Father set aside a dowry for me? That money will
be there whether I marry now or ten years from now.”

Robert looked away and reached for his
coffee. He held the cup in front of his face a moment before taking
a sip. “Why postpone choosing a suitable husband? There is nothing
holding you back, is there? It makes no sense to wait, when the
number of titles available to you will be the same, no matter the
year.”

Her eyes widened. He really believed she had
no other consideration than the titles of the gentlemen she met.
“What if no man offers for me?”

Fussing with his paper, Robert cleared his
throat. “As I’ve said, I’ll find you a husband if you do not.” His
thumb strummed the papers more rapidly.

He acted so strangely of late. Meeting with
odd sorts like Sir Frederick, and avoiding others she thought much
more likely to be counted among his friends. She remembered that
afternoon at Newmarket when Robert had been surprised to see the
men she now knew were Mr. Lumley and Knightwick, and again she
wondered at the apparent bad feelings between them. But Robert no
longer discussed his actions with her. No longer discussed much of
anything with her.

She missed the days when they’d been close.
While the duties he’d assumed upon their father’s death had
distanced him, Robert hadn’t lived at home in Hurst Court Farm
since she was twelve. Before then, he’d spent most of his time in
the stables, as did she. They rode for hours together. He was the
one who taught her to jump the hedgerows and kept that news from
their mother, who would have spent a week in her room suffering
from vapors had she known.

Robert had shown her the litter of bunnies
nestled under the feed room floor, and gave her a fluffy,
grey-striped kitten from a litter in the hayloft. He’d sent ribbons
home from the shops near Oxford while classes were in session. And
when he visited, he’d complimented the hideous creations she’d
fashioned when adding them to her bonnets.

She sighed and took a bite of her cold, dry
toast, chewing the tasteless morsel. Mama had been happy then, and
Father won often enough at race meetings to keep a grin on his
face. What had happened to them? Robert grew up. Father grew
sullen, and then—

The toast caught in her throat, making her
cough. She would not think of it now. “I’m going riding with Lady
Hannah later.” She rose from her chair, wondering why she bothered
to inform Robert of her schedule. He never seemed to notice her
presence or absence.

His face was hidden behind his newspaper
once more. “Very well. Enjoy yourself.”

David rode silently down the London street
behind his sister and Lady Joanna, with her groom following behind.
The young ladies gabbed and giggled over something he couldn’t
hear. He doubted he missed anything other than which gentleman had
said what unpardonably tactless or shocking tidbit at the most
recent ball. Lord, save him from such nattering.

He was in ill humor, and had been since
Triton’s most recent defeat to Patriot. He didn’t hold Lady Joanna
responsible for the loss, in spite of how she claimed to have
trained the horse. Surely, her brother only humored her when it
came to such a fine creature. What could she really know about
training a horse to race? Her mother never would have allowed her
to spend her days in the paddock, instead of practicing her
stitches and musical scales.

Hannah looked over her shoulder at him.
“What do you think, David? Should not a young lady be allowed to
choose her own husband?”

He puffed his cheeks full of air as it
escaped his lips. There was a dangerous topic. He skirted a direct
answer. “Of which lady do we speak? Surely Knightwick isn’t
threatening to marry you to the vicar, again.”

Lady Joanna’s laughter bubbled back to him.
“What’s this? Your brother believes you’d be happy with a man of
the church?”

“No, he knows precisely how miserable I
would be. That is why he threatens me. The vicar at Bridgethorpe is
sixty if he’s a day, and rumor has it, he’s been engaged three
times and the young ladies all broke it off before the day came.
They say one eloped with the stable boy to escape her fate.”

David shook his head. “Have you no
standards, Hannah? You gossip about the vicar, of all people.”

“I’m only relaying what I’ve heard to
elucidate my objection to marrying him.”

“Knightwick never meant for you to do so,
and you know it. He’d never choose a husband for any of you girls.
Besides, as long as Father lives,
he
will agree to the
match, or not.” His brother might be acting as head of the family,
but neither he nor David was in any rush for him to be the head in
actuality. “What brought this up? Lady Joanna, is your brother
insisting on a certain man for you?” He blamed the sudden racing of
his heart on his exasperation with his sister.

“No. Not as yet.”

That sounded ominous. “You are still young.
Isn’t this your first Season? He can’t expect you to make a choice
in a matter of weeks.”

She shrugged. “This is my second Season. But
many ladies are betrothed that quickly. Lady Henrietta Galbraith
has had three offers for her hand, already.”

He guided his horse to ride beside the
ladies, where the road permitted. “She has three thousand pounds, I
believe. Wealthy young ladies don’t always have the chance to marry
for love, when some man’s estate is failing and he finds her
marriage portion attractive. Those beaux tend to act quickly. You
two are lucky to be in the middle of the crowd, neither too rich
nor ugly.”

They both gasped, and he laughed. Hannah was
an easy target for his barbs. He pretended to defend himself.
“Which has you more outraged, that you don’t have the largest
dowries of the Season, or that I believe you to be among the
prettiest ladies of any Season?”

He caught a hint of pink brightening Lady
Joanna’s cheek before she turned to look ahead. She was a good
sport, someone he would not mind spending more time with. Perhaps
Hannah would invite her to visit after they returned to
Bridgethorpe. Lady Joanna would get on well with all his
sisters.

Hannah snorted, reminding him how young she
was. “Do not let his falderal impress you. My brother thinks
himself charming and humorous.”

Lady Joanna met his eye, grinning at his
wink. “I am not likely to fall under his spell. I have a brother of
my own, remember. You and I are less likely to make an unhappy
match, I think, knowing their sex as we do.”

The ladies grew quiet for a change, and
David saw his chance to gain some information. “Oh, by the way,
congratulations on Patriot’s recent wins.”

Her grin brightened her entire face. “Thank
you, I’m very proud of him.”

“Are you familiar with his lines? I might
want to use him…ah, for future, ah…”

“Mr. Lumley, I’ve spent enough time in the
stable to not blush at most of the words used there. Although, it
appears you are not as comfortable with them.”

He tugged at his cravat, knowing the warmth
he felt had to be visible on his face. “Yes, well. I’m not in the
habit of speaking of horses with ladies. I haven’t heard that topic
recommended for the ballroom.”

“Which is partly why I often find balls so
dull,” she countered.

He tipped his head and studied her. Did she
flirt with him? That would help his purpose. Yet the thought
brought a heaviness to his chest. He wanted her interested, but not
so much she’d be heartbroken when he had what he needed. Watching
her ride beside him, her face alight with laughter at something
Hannah had said, he knew he needed to solve the poisoning cases
quickly.