The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley (7 page)

Lady Joanna was intriguing, he had to admit.
She would make an excellent wife for a man who attended race
meetings as often as he did. He bit off that thought as soon as the
words came to him. He was not looking for a wife. He was looking
for the killer of his father’s stallion.

The ladies chattered on with little regard
to him being present. This gave him time to notice how gracefully
Lady Joanna sat on her mount, as if she’d been born to the saddle.
She held her neck and shoulders upright without appearing rigid.
Her arms were relaxed on her lap as she held the reins. Her gown
complemented her curves, without calling attention to them,
although his gaze enjoyed landing there often. She was pleasant to
look at, and just as enjoyable to talk to. A very dangerous
combination.

As laughter broke out beside him, he
wondered if Hannah had once again been poking fun in his direction.
He knew better than to ask, for if she hadn’t been, she surely
would if prompted.

Lady Joanna peered at him from beneath the
brim of her bonnet. “You’re a man of few words, Mr. Lumley.”

“I’m a man with four sisters. I’ve
discovered my voice is unnecessary to keep a conversation
going.”

“Surely they allow you to speak now and
again.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps they are the reason I
spend so much time in the stables.” He couldn’t keep his grin from
spreading.

“Lady Joanna, please say you’ll go with me
to the lending library tomorrow,” Hannah begged. “We can compare
which invitations we have each received and make certain we’ll be
at the same assemblies.”

“That sounds delightful. And might I bring
my friend Miss Clawson? You will enjoy her company, too, I am
certain of it.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve met her and found her
quite amiable.”

It dawned on David his presence was not
needed for the ladies’ enjoyment. At this rate, he’d never gain an
invitation inside Northcotte’s home. His sister was having better
success in her offer of friendship. He hoped Hannah would be
invited to tea, and he would be sure to tag along.

Chapter Six

Joanna smoothed her hands over the lace
overdress of her gown, certain there were wrinkles she couldn’t see
in the pink silk beneath it. She glanced once more at the wall
behind her, wondering how close one had to stand to be considered a
wallflower, or if it was a matter of the length of time she
remained in that spot. Admittedly, they’d just arrived at Mrs.
Stanford’s ball, and she couldn’t be disappointed that every
unmarried gentleman in the room, titled or not, hadn’t swarmed to
her side. But she wished at least one would.

“Stop fussing with your gown,” Aunt Ophelia
whispered from her side. “You look desperate.”

“What if no one wants to dance with me? I’ll
look undesirable, which is much worse than desperate, you must
admit.”

“You’re one of the most beautiful young
ladies here. One of the prettiest this Season. If a gentleman
doesn’t ask you to dance, it’s because he’s afraid you’ll refuse
him.”

Joanna smiled and tried to relax her hands.
“You are very kind to fib that way. They all know they’ll not be
refused a dance unless my card is full. And since no one has
approached me, there’s no worry of that.”

Her aunt suddenly gasped. “Oh, dear, not
that man.”

Recognizing Lord Westbourne, an older earl
with a shocking reputation for scandalous parties at one of his
estates, Joanna shared Aunt Ophelia’s shock.

He bowed in greeting. “Lady Ophelia, I’m
happy to find you here tonight.”

“How do you do?”

Joanna noticed her aunt didn’t perform an
introduction, which was an obvious slight.

“I’m quite well, thank you.” His smile
didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you care to take a turn about the
room?”

“I’m afraid I can’t leave my niece on her
own.”

The lord ran his gaze slowly over Joanna,
then licked his lips. Joanna shivered. One side of his mouth turned
upward. “Perhaps I should walk with her, instead.”

Aunt Ophelia stretched taller as her back
stiffened. “No, you should not. You should look elsewhere for your
entertainment.”

He gave a single nod of his head. “Perhaps
another night. Enjoy your evening, ladies.” He strolled off.

Joanna watched until he was lost in the
crowd. She whispered, “Why is he here?”

“He was invited, I’m certain. Some of the
matrons in London will invite all the rakes of their acquaintance
in hopes their assemblies will be mentioned in the papers.”

Another man approached, this one a tall,
handsome man of middle years. He smiled warmly at her aunt. “Lady
Ophelia, how well you look tonight.”

“Sir Jasper, allow me to introduce my niece,
Lady Joanna Hurst. Her mother was too ill to attend this evening,
so I offered to chaperone her.”

The gentleman nodded to Joanna. “It’s a
pleasure. I hope your mother recovers quickly.”

“Thank you.” She shoved aside her own wishes
for the same, knowing it could be months before Mama was herself
again. She’d had those spells ever since Papa died. Waves of
wistfulness washed over Joanna, settling heavily in her middle. Her
parents had shared such a deep love. If she could find only half as
much in her own marriage, she would consider herself lucky.

The small group of people standing in front
of her parted, and that rude friend of Robert’s, Sir Frederick,
strode toward Joanna. Her eyes widened as her stomach sank. She
willed her feet to remain in place, when all she wanted was to run
away. He still hadn’t been formally introduced to her, so he
couldn’t be coming to speak to her. Surely not. And if he was, she
felt clueless as to how to respond. To acknowledge his lack of
propriety would be putting herself on the same level.

He tipped his head and smiled, which made
his bushy side-whiskers puff out even more. “Lady Joanna, how
delighted I am to see you.”

“Thank you.” For the life of her, she would
not return the sentiment, politeness be damned. She looked around,
hoping to find someone to rescue her, but aside from her aunt, no
one of her acquaintance stood nearby.

“I hoped I might run into you tonight. Your
brother mentioned you would be here.”

Robert would do that, discuss her plans with
a practical stranger. If she weren’t dependent on his goodwill for
a home until she married, she would speak to him the moment she
returned.

“Am I early enough to claim the supper
dance?” One of his untamed graying eyebrows lifted as he peered
down his over-long nose.

Joanna closed her eyes and prayed for help.
None of her dances had been claimed yet. Where was Mr. Bigby when
she needed him? Sweaty palms were much more appealing than the
all-over squeamishness this man invoked. She drew in a breath to
respond but someone else spoke.

“I’m sorry, that dance is spoken for, as is
Lady Joanna’s first waltz.”

Snapping open her eyelids, she met the
cheery hazel eyes of Mr. Lumley. She sighed with a smile of thanks.
“Yes, that’s correct. I’ll be sitting with Mr. Lumley for supper.”
The courteous thing to do would be to offer one of the other open
dances to Sir Frederick, but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

Sir Frederick’s mouth thinned. “Well, I
shall have to settle for the first dance, then, and perhaps the
last?”

She hadn’t torn her gaze away from Mr.
Lumley, and the warmth and laughter there gave her the strength to
endure what she must. “Yes, they are both available.”

Mr. Lumley raised his arm in invitation.
“Perhaps we can stroll about the room until the musicians are ready
to begin.”

“That would be lovely.” Placing her hand on
his sleeve, she resisted the urge to hurry away from Sir Frederick,
even though she must return shortly and dance with the man.

“I’m surprised to see Sir Frederick at a
ball,” Mr. Lumley said once they were out of earshot. “Are you well
acquainted with the man?”

“Not at all. I observed him speaking to my
brother at Newmarket and he has presumed a friendship that doesn’t
exist.” She surprised herself at how much she admitted to a man
she’d so recently met, but she felt safe when he was around.

“Guard yourself around him. I’ve heard
stories I can’t share, but his character is questionable, to say
the least.”

She laughed. “Do not fear I’m in danger of
forming an attachment there. The man makes me quite
uncomfortable.”

“Your brother should attend these assemblies
with you. I now see why my mother insisted I come to Town for
Hannah’s Season.” He nodded toward a notorious rakehell who
conversed with their hostess. “The idea astounds me that innocent
misses are expected to mingle with less-than-savory characters
while maintaining their pristine reputations.”

Joanna bit her lip at his indignation, but
kept silent, fighting to keep her giggles inside.

Mr. Lumley glanced down at her from the
corner of his eye, then quickly looked away. “You laugh at me. Did
I just sound as priggish as I suspect?”

“You did. It was quite the elder brother in
spirit. Is Lady Hannah in attendance tonight?”

“She is. And forgive me for preaching as I
did. I’m truly not a coxcomb.”

“I never suspected it. Lady Hannah enjoys
your company too much for that to be the case.”

All too soon, Mr. Lumley returned her to
where Sir Frederick waited. That man took her hand and clamped it
to his arm, holding it in place while leading her onto the dance
floor where the others had begun to gather. His lack of
conversation bothered Joanna even more than dull words would have.
She forced herself to speak. “Have you known my brother long?”

“Northcotte and I are business
acquaintances.”

Which didn’t really answer her question, and
made her wonder all the more why he was dancing with her. “What
sort of business are you in?”

The rapid darting of his eyes to the other
dancers added to his mystery. “Banking. But one shouldn’t discuss
business at social functions.”

She took that as her cue to quit trying to
make polite conversation. How dare he put her in her place that
way. She didn’t recall ever meeting such an insufferably rude
person. By the time the dance wore down, she wondered if she might
manage to convince Aunt Ophelia to slip away before the final
dance.

On her way back to her aunt, she spied
Amelia speaking with Sir Richard. She offered thanks to Sir
Frederick in dismissal, squeezed through the crowd, and hugged her
friend. “I was afraid I would not find you in this crush.”

Sir Richard nodded. “I had similar fears
before I discovered her. There is hardly room to dance.”

“Was that your brother’s friend I saw you
with?” Amelia asked.

“Sir Frederick, yes. Although he doesn’t
claim a friendship with Robert. He’s such an odd sort.”

“Let me offer my services,” Sir Richard
said, “if he becomes a nuisance.”

Mr. Lumley chose that moment to reappear. “I
am pleased to know Lady Joanna and Miss Clawson have a
champion.”

“There’s no need. Sir Frederick is awkward,
yes, but not too forward,” Joanna said. “But I do appreciate the
concern.”

Amelia and Sir Richard went off to dance,
and Mr. Lumley remained with Joanna. He had a rogue wave falling
over his forehead, giving him a dashing air in his dark olive wool
tailcoat that brought out the color of his eyes. The matching
breeches fitted his powerful thighs, which he surely gained from
spending so much time on a horse. She held her head a little higher
when she stood with him. She was proud to be seen with such a
handsome man.

At supper, she ate lightly, not knowing how
calm her stomach really was. Mr. Lumley dragged his chair close to
hers and leaned in when speaking. “Will you be attending the Second
Spring Race Meeting at Newmarket later this month?”

“No, my mother accepted an invitation for
cards at Lady Hinderclay’s home, a dinner and two balls that week.
I don’t know how I’ll bear not seeing Patriot race.”

“I’ll be at Newmarket, so I won’t be able to
watch over you and my sister. I wish my parents had sent Trey to
chaperone instead of me, although I would not have met you. I don’t
like the idea of you two being left to the whims of Sir Frederick
and others of his ilk.”

Rather than finding him pompous, she
detected what she hoped was a bit of jealousy in his tone. That was
too much to wish for. “We aren’t attending a house party in the
middle of nowhere. Your mother and mine will be present, or my aunt
will. They’ve survived enough Seasons in their time to see us
safely though a week in your absence.”

He shoved the wayward lock of hair off his
forehead. “I daresay Mother knows nothing of what these men are
thinking.”

Joanna almost choked on her punch. “She has
a husband, and how many sons? I’m certain she has a general idea of
what goes on in the minds of the male sex. Tell me, how do you
think Triton will do in the next race? Who is his greatest
competition? Aside from Patriot, of course.”

That sent him off and running on what had to
be his favorite topic. His horses. As he spoke, his eyes lit with
an excitement that matched what she felt when she watched Patriot
move. How cruel the fates would be if they presented such a perfect
man for her and he was not seeking a wife.

Midway through their meal, Lady Hannah
approached, walking beside Sir Frederick with a pleading look on
her face. “David, Lady Joanna, may we join you?”

“Of course,” her brother said, rising to
pull out a chair for his sister.

Sir Frederick sat between the two ladies.
“Lady Hannah was kind enough to save her supper dance for me.”

Certain that jab was aimed her way, Joanna
didn’t take the bait. Instead, she offered Hannah a sympathetic
smile. She found it rather surprising that Hannah didn’t have her
card full the moment she arrived. Mr. Lumley should have enlisted
the aid of his friends to make her appear more desirable in the
early assemblies of her first Season. But as beautiful as she was,
her dark blonde hair piled in stylish curls, a fringe of bangs
making her expressive brown eyes even more striking, she should not
need help finding partners. “That was kind of her.”