Chapter Four
Near Thornhill, Scotland
August 11th
T he vista of rolling hills, covered in an array of soft purple heather, as seen from the window of the cozy drawing room in Lord Braeton’s rustic hunting lodge was a sight Joanna simply could not get enough of. She and her family had been coming to their friend’s property in Scotland every August for the shooting since Joanna could remember, the heather always her favorite part of the long journey. She’d go out and pick bagsful of it over the coming weeks to take back to Longford for use as sachets in her clothing drawers over the next year. Of course, this was the first time she’d ever come to Thorncroft by herself and looked forward to the freedom that promised.
“Have you had word from your brother yet about the birth of your niece or nephew, Joanna?” Honoria, Lady Braeton asked, then sipped her tea. They had formed the habit of taking tea in this sunny room each afternoon ever since Joanna had arrived last week. The paneled walls included a pair of bookshelves on either side of the large fireplace, red plaid curtains over the bay window which brightened the room immeasurably, and various animal skins on the floor that made for a soft, warm carpet. Overstuffed chairs scattered around the room gave it a rugged yet comfortable air.
“Not yet.” Joanna sighed. “Mother’s letter arrived this morning, but she does not mention the birth. You would scarcely think Diana was increasing at all from the way Mother avoids the subject. All she said about her daughter-in-law was that she was resting much of the day. Not a word about how she is feeling or if preparations are being made.”
“I’m certain they must be if the child is supposed to be born any day now.” Honoria shook her head. “Perhaps it would have been better had you stayed at home with them instead of coming here this year. I’m sure Geoffrey would have appreciated your company at such a time.”
“I think he would have preferred Thomas’s company, if truth be told.” Joanna smiled and stirred in another lump of sugar. She loved the smoky taste of the Earl Grey tea Honoria served, especially when well sweetened. “Besides, he’s the one who insisted I come here to meet the gentlemen arriving for the shoot.” Joanna made a face at the thought. “He’s so intent on my marrying this summer I’m beginning to believe he wants to be rid of me.”
“I very much doubt that, my dear.” Honoria chuckled. “Your brother dotes on you. He only has your welfare in mind.” Her eyes twinkled. “And the gentlemen who should be arriving shortly were invited specifically because they were the most handsome of Lord Braeton’s acquaintance.”
“Well, that will go a long way toward making this visit one of the most interesting.” Joanna grinned at her friend. “What woman would not wish to be the center of attention for a dozen gentlemen?”
“Who indeed.” Honoria smiled at her agreeably.
If only Joanna could hold out any hope that Mr. Dandridge would be part of the party, then she would be completely happy.
Ever since their dance in May, Joanna had mused about the dark, hulking gentleman. She and Geoffrey had had several rows regarding his edict that Joanna was never to speak to the man again. And while she understood her brother’s animosity toward Mr. Dandridge—trying to extort Geoffrey to let him marry her had been truly wicked—it nevertheless seemed quite the romantic gesture the more Joanna thought of it. That a gentleman would pay twenty thousand pounds to be able to marry her was like something out of the Waverly novels. What she wouldn’t give to be able to speak to Mr. Dandridge again. To find out more about him. He certainly looked the part of the gentleman—Beau Brummel himself couldn’t fault the man’s dress one iota. But in other respects he apparently fell quite short of the standard her brother had set for her. Geoffrey had told her of some of Mr. Dandridge’s less savory exploits and had suggested his breeding was nowhere near that of a true gentleman.
Even though she suspected it was wrong of her, those were the very things she found so interesting about the man. Even in the short time they’d spent together, Mr. Dandridge had impressed her as a fascinating person. His lack of family didn’t seem particularly egregious to her, even though it had been impressed upon her from the time she was in the schoolroom that young ladies of her station in life married only similarly situated gentlemen. Her sisters certainly had, although on more than one occasion Joanna had wondered if they now regretted their choices. Her brothers-in-law seemed so deadly dull. Joanna would wager a large sum that Mr. Dandridge could never be considered tedious by anyone.
With a sigh, she picked up her cup again. She must soon begin to meet the gentlemen who were coming here to shoot this week. To shoot birds and to stalk her. “Could I have some more tea, Honoria?”
“Of course, my dear. Let me ring for a new pot.” Honoria pulled the bell cord. “Were you woolgathering just now? You seemed far away.”
“Only thinking of the gentlemen I am to meet.” And not meet.
“You rang, m’lady?” Mackenzie, the butler the Braetons had engaged for the lodge while they were in residence opened the door and bowed.
“Ask Cook for another pot of tea, please, Mackenzie.” Honoria set her empty cup on the tea tray. “And some scones this time I think.” She glanced at Joanna. “We must keep up our strength, don’t you think, my dear?”
“Cook’s scones never go amiss.” Joanna eagerly agreed. Mrs. Vaughan had a wonderful light hand with the pastries.
“Very good, m’lady.” The butler bowed again. “And there’s a gentleman’s just arrived. A Mr. James he said. Shall I show him into the library and tell his lordship?”
“Oh, Mr. James!” Honoria’s face flushed. “My surprise guest. No, bring him here, Mackenzie. I must meet him forthwith. And tell Mrs. Vaughan the tea will be for three.”
“Very good, m’lady.” Mackenzie left and Honoria turned to her, her cheeks pink as pinks.
“Who is Mr. James?” Joanna had never seen her friend so agitated. If she hadn’t known how devoted Honoria was to Thomas, she might suspect the man was an amorous connection.
“He is an angel sent from God, my dear. An absolute godsend.” Honoria rose, straightening her skirts. “As you know, I am patroness to the High Street Asylum for Orphans in Sussex. Despite my best efforts in the past year, the orphanage has been struggling to maintain the more than fifty children who currently reside there. We were on the brink of ruin, about to have to close the doors and find other places for the children when out of the blue, Mr. James wrote to me, asking if he could contribute to the upkeep of the establishment.” Honoria raised her gaze upward, her eyes shining with tears. “You cannot understand, Joanna, how much this meant to the orphanage. It literally saved us. I am so very grateful to Mr. James, who has continued each month to send generous contributions for the care and feeding of the children. I simply cannot wait to thank him personally.”
“How extraordinary, Honoria.” Joanna looked toward the doorway, now curious herself about this savior. “But how is he come here?”
“Oh, I invited him. He made mention in one of his letters that he enjoyed shooting, and I immediately issued the invitation to him.” Her friend’s smile broadened. “And I will continue to issue one each year he makes such generous donations to the charity. I feel it is the very least I can do.”
The door opened and Mackenzie entered, a footman directly behind him with the new tea tray. “Mr. James, my lady.”
A tall gentleman entered, dressed in a brown tweed suit of impeccable cut and strode toward Honoria. “Good afternoon, Lady Braeton. How very good of you to have me.” He glanced from Honoria to Joanna and back, then bowed. “I am Mr. Marcus James.”
Joanna gasped, her eyes widening as they took in the splendid form of Marcus Dandridge. What on earth was he doing here masquerading as a Mr. James?
“I am so very pleased to meet you at last, Mr. James.” Beaming, Honoria curtsied. “I feel almost as if I know you from all our correspondence. Lady Joanna, allow me to introduce Mr. James, the benefactor I told you about.”
Trying to recover, Joanna kept her gaze down as she dipped a curtsy. She dared not look at Mr. Dandridge…James…whomever he was pretending to be.
“It is a great honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Joanna.” Mr. Dandridge’s voice was as smooth as butter on a warm day.
“And I you, sir.” She shot him a glance, and immediately regretted it. The man was just as handsome as she remembered from their dance in May. His dark eyes pierced her, making her stomach flutter like a drunken butterfly. There was only one reason she could fathom for him to turn up here in Scotland, and it had nothing to do with philanthropy. She’d bet her entire dowry Mr. Dandridge had no interest whatsoever in orphanages, save one—that it could possibly bring him into her sphere once more.
The man was devious, make no mistake. He’d already tried to obtain her through extortion. Now he was attempting to woo her through some other nefarious scheme. Unless she unmasked him. “Mr. James, was it? Have we met before, sir? You seem very familiar to me.”
Mr. Dandridge’s thick brows shot upward, a hint of a smile on his sensuous lips. “I do not think so, my lady. I am certain if I had, I would remember it.”
“One meets so many gentlemen during the Season, my dear,” Honoria went on, sublimely unaware of the serpent she’d just allowed to slither into her drawing room. “I scarcely think you could remember them all. Will you have a seat, Mr. James? Tea has just arrived.”
“Thank you, my lady.” He took his seat opposite Honoria, the pleasant expression never leaving his face. Well, if the man owned gambling establishments as Geoffrey had said, he must know how to keep his countenance just so, in order not to give himself away to the other players.
“Mr. James has been an absolute angel, Joanna, as far as the orphanage is concerned. Tea, Mr. James?” Honoria was already pouring the cup. “Do you take milk or sugar?”
“A little of both please, my lady.” Mr. Dandridge sat easily, not at all as though he was an imposter in her friend’s drawing room.
“I wanted to tell you, as I have not had the occasion to write you yet, that your last donation enabled us to take in a family of four destitute children.” Honoria handed Mr. Dandridge the cup. “Their poor parents perished in a house fire near Selham and the children barely escaped with their lives.”
Joanna shivered. Such a tragic turn of events.
“The matron at the orphanage is attempting to locate any relatives in the area who might be able to take at least one or two of the children, although they are all able to remain together at the orphanage in the meantime.” Honoria gazed at him, her eyes moist. “Thanks entirely to you, Mr. James.”
“I am only grateful that your charity was brought to my attention when it was, my lady. I confess, I’d not given much thought to philanthropy, having been focused on caring for my own family.” Mr. Dandridge sipped his tea, watching Joanna.
“You are married, sir?” Honoria handed a cup of tea to Joanna, her voice holding the slightest tinge of regret.
Joanna’s hand shook as she took her cup. Did her friend have it in mind to try her hand at matchmaking Joanna with her benefactor? If only she knew the whole of the truth.
“Regretfully not, my lady.” With a sad smile, Mr. Dandridge set his cup on the side table. “When I spoke of family, I was referring to my mother and my brothers and sisters. I am the head of the household since my father died.” His face stilled, the lines around his mouth becoming more pronounced. “I do know something of an orphan’s plight, you see, although God has granted us the continued comfort of one parent.” He sighed. “As soon as I return to London, I will send additional funds to the orphanage to cover the cost of housing this little family until they can all be taken in by a relative or other suitable family. After the horrors they have endured, they should remain together at all costs.”
“I told you Mr. James was a godsend, didn’t I, Joanna?” Honoria wiped a tear from her eye. She leaned forward and grasped Mr. Dandridge’s hand. “God bless you, sir. You are truly a gentleman of deep feeling.”
If Joanna hadn’t known differently, she’d have believed the man’s altruistic sentiments as well. He must have donated a considerable sum to make Honoria feel this way about him. She hated to doubt his intentions, yet the situation was suspicious to say the least. Had Mr. Dandridge given the funds from a sense of Christian charity, or were his motives guided by his own self-interest? But how could he have known she would be here in Scotland? By all rights, she should be at home with Diana and Geoffrey for the birth of their child. The scheme for her to attend the shooting party had only been made two weeks ago. Mr. Dandridge couldn’t have possibly known. But then why was he here under a false name? “Your beneficence is an example to us all, Mr. James.” Joanna had to school her voice to keep any hint of archness from it. “You have gained quite the admirer in Lady Braeton.”
“I am happy to have done a service for her, my lady. And for the children.” His deep brown eyes lingered on Joanna’s face. “I only wish I could do more.”
Unaccountably, a blush rose to Joanna’s cheeks and she buried her face in her teacup.
The door opened and she glanced up to see Thomas enter, smiling broadly. “My dears, the guests will begin to arrive shortly. You must come along and help me—” He stopped short at the sight of an unexpected gentleman in the room. “I beg your pardon. I did not know one of our guests had already arrived.” Thomas cocked his head and frowned. “Will you introduce me, my dear?”
“Oh, but this is my surprise, my lord.” Honoria rose, beaming at her husband. “I told you I had invited the orphanage’s principal benefactor, and here he is.”
Mr. Dandridge, whose face had been turned away from the doorway, had gotten to his feet when Honoria stood. He now turned toward his host, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I believe we have met once or twice before, my lord.”
Thomas’s face darkened with the speed of a lightning bolt. “Dandridge. What the devil are you doing here?”
“Oh, no, my dear.” Honoria hurried toward her husband. “This is Mr. James, the gentleman I told you about. The orphanage’s patron who has been so very generous.”
Joanna rose, her heart beating unaccountably fast. Thomas obviously knew Mr. Dandridge and sounded as though he approved of him about as much as Geoffrey. So what would Thomas do? Expose Mr. Dandridge to his wife as a fraud, or play along as Joanna had to spare Honoria’s feelings? She supposed it might depend on whether or not Geoffrey had told his friend about Mr. Dandridge’s machinations where she was concerned.
Thomas’s gaze rested on his wife’s upturned face, confusion in her pinched brows. “You say this is a Mr. James? Who had donated an exceptional amount of money to your charity in May, was it not?”
“That’s right. He sent the first funds in May and has done so every month since.” Honoria began to look hopeful again. “To thank him for such generosity, you told me to invite him for the twelfth, don’t you remember?”
Her friend’s clenched jaw spoke volumes to Joanna, as had his mention of the date of Mr. Dandridge’s first contribution to the orphanage. His generous nature had begun just after their meeting at Lady Hamilton’s ball. Another coincidence she would say was likely no coincidence at all.
“I do indeed, my dear.” Thomas’s gaze had strayed to her own, a silent message in the almost imperceptible raising of his brows.
Joanna held her breath. By rights Mr. Dandridge should be unmasked and sent packing for his audacity to come to the lodge under false pretenses. A nod from her to Thomas now would surely see the man ejected from the premises. However, something about him—and she could not say if it was the touch of sadness in his voice when he spoke about his family or his generosity to the orphans or his dark good looks—that Joanna found inordinately attractive. She’d thought so when they’d met at Lady Hamilton’s. This was now the third time the gentleman had engaged a nefarious scheme to enable him to be close to her—Geoffrey had discovered the lengths Mr. Dandridge had gone to in May to gain entry to the ball and then to get Geoffrey out of the way so he could dance with her.
Well, perhaps the third time should be the charm. Holding her breath, she nodded her head. “I was saying earlier that I thought Mr. James looked familiar, and now I do recall I met him in London during the past Season.” She shook her head and laughed. “How silly of me to forget. We shared a dance, as I remember.”
Thomas’s eyes widened, then his frown returned. “I beg your pardon, Mr. James . I mistook you for another individual, someone I certainly was not expecting to see here.”
“That is quite all right, my lord.” Mr. Dandridge shot a glance from Thomas to Joanna, as if guessing at the communication that had gone between them. “I suppose I have one of those faces that everyone thinks they’ve seen somewhere before.”
“Indeed.” Thomas’s teeth were all but clenched. “Can I offer you a drink, sir? By way of apology for the mistake?”
“With pleasure, my lord.” A look of glee crossed Mr. Dandridge’s face, perhaps at the thought of the libation but more likely at the knowledge his scheme was working—for the moment at least.
“This way, Mr. James.” Thomas turned on his heel and exited, Mr. Dandridge sauntering behind him.
Once they’d left, Joanna sank down on the chair, quite exhausted from the drama that had just played out. What she wouldn’t give to be able to eavesdrop on the conversation that was about to ensue.
“Would you like me to ring for more tea, Joanna?” Honoria sat and picked up one of the neglected scones. “I need something to fortify me as the rest of the guests arrive.”
Joanna nodded, although had it been permitted, she’d have asked for the same spirits the gentlemen were about to enjoy. She’d need real fortifying if Mr. Dandridge was going to remain here as a guest.