Chapter Thirteen
S taring out the window all the way back to Longford House, Joanna tried to keep her sighs quiet, although she supposed Coates suspected this had been some romantic tryst. Her maid had always been the soul of discretion, however she’d never had to trust her with this sort of secret. Joanna could only pray the lady’s maid was as loyal as she believed her to be.
Putting that worry aside, her thoughts returned to Marcus and the glorious half-hour they’d just spent together. The long weeks since she’d last seen him had melted away as soon as she threw herself into his arms. Had she been truly bold, she would simply have refused to leave his club. One night spent there with Marcus and Geoffrey would have likely forced them to marry to save what little reputation would have been left to her. She would have embraced such a plan wholeheartedly, but Marcus would not have it, of that she was certain. That he was more careful of her reputation than she spoke volumes of his regard for her. She did wish, however, that he were less adamant about her retaining ties with her family. Had he not been such a stickler for saving that connection, they might even now be on their way to Gretna Green. So she must be patient, no matter how ill that sat with her.
The carriage pulled up in front of the familiar Mayfair townhouse, although it no longer gave Joanna the joy it once had. Not long ago she would have been dancing on her toes at the prospect of a journey to London and a stay at their residence here. Such trips had been the pinnacle of treats during her growing up years. Now, however, its chief attraction was that it lay less than a mile from Marcus’s abode. She would lie awake, restless in her bed tonight thinking how short a distance kept them apart. Hopefully, not for much longer. Joanna didn’t know what mad thing she would do if she couldn’t be with Marcus soon.
The coachman handed her down the steps and she shoved a small bag of coins into his hands. “Thank you, Jeter. I will remember your kindness in the future as well.”
The man nodded and helped Coates down as well. They headed up the steps and rapped for entrance. The butler opened the door. “Good afternoon, my lady.”
“Good afternoon, Dixon. Where is my mother?” It was always best to know Mama’s whereabouts.
“The dowager is in the small drawing room with Lord and Lady Longford.”
Which meant Joanna would be going straight to her room. “Please let my mother know I will be down for dinner.” She truly would prefer not to eat with Geoffrey, but she didn’t wish to give rise to any speculation about where she’d actually been today by seeming to act sulky. “How long until the dinner bell?”
“It’s now just half-past five, my lady. The bell won’t be rung before seven.” Dixon eyed her oddly. “Shall I take your cloak?”
Drat. She’d forgotten she was still wearing Marcus’s cloak. “No, thank you. Coates needs to mend it as the hem has come loose.” She removed the garment quickly and handed it to the maid. “I’ll be up in a moment, Coates, so you can fit it for me.”
The maid nodded, took the garment, and continued upstairs.
“Thank you, Dixon.” She turned to follow Coates, relieved that no other notice of her whereabouts had been taken so far. Joanna supposed a person always felt guilty when they did something they should not, and that guilt made them feel that everyone was looking at them suspiciously, even if they weren’t.
Once in her room, Joanna relaxed and allowed Coates to pamper her a bit, helping her bathe and dress in her favorite new gown, a pale-blue, jacquard silk with lace at the neckline and wrists and a deep flounce all around the hem. The maid was just finishing her coiffure when the bell rang announcing the family was gathering for dinner. Joanna pulled on her gloves and Coates dropped a multicolored cashmere shawl over her shoulders before she left the chamber.
The drawing room where the family usually met before dinner was strangely empty, but perhaps she had been more forward than the others. Diana was always slower to dress these days because she insisted on seeing the baby just before dinner. Mama was usually prompt, but she might have mistaken the time. Joanna took her accustomed place on the chaise, across from the sofa Geoffrey and Diana occupied. Glancing around the vacant room, Joanna rubbed her arms as a sudden chill raced down her spine. She should ring for Dixon to instruct a footman to build up the fire while they were at dinner.
Joanna’s head came up as the door opened and to her dismay Geoffrey strode into the room. She’d hoped it would be her mother. The silence when she and her brother were alone together was always uncomfortable. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders, avoiding his eyes as always.
“Good evening, Joanna.” He never failed to speak to her, even when he must know she would not respond. “I asked Mother and Diana to wait before coming down. I wanted an opportunity to speak to you.”
She cut her gaze toward his face, pursing her lips in displeasure. Her brother had attempted to break her resolve several times before, without success. Stubbornness ran in the family, no doubt. Glancing away she fixed her attention on the low flames of the fire and prayed this would be quick.
“I trust you enjoyed your drive in the park this afternoon.” Geoffrey moved until he stood before her.
A warning bell went off in Joanna’s head, although that might be the guilt of her secret assignation rearing its head. Both Geoffrey and their mother had given permission for the drive. Steadfastly, she kept her eyes on the fire, denying him a response as usual.
The jingle of coins as something hit the chaise beside her made Joanna jump and turn to find the bag she’d given Jeter that afternoon spilling its treasure out across the pink-and-green floral cushion. Stunned, Joanna could only stare at the gold pieces winking in the firelight, a sense of dread engulfing her.
“If you wish to bribe servants, my dear sister, you should make certain your price is high enough to secure their silence.” The sneer in her brother’s voice matched the cruel look on his face admirably. “Jeter was most willing to divulge your true destination for double your price.”
Joanna leaped to her feet, bent on fleeing out the door before her brother could continue, but his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in an iron grip.
“You went to see Dandridge, at his club, and remained inside with him for half an hour.” His raspy voice sounded harsher than she’d ever heard it and there was murder in his eyes. “I will go at once and challenge him to a duel, as I should have done in May.”
“No!” Fear for Marcus’s life was the only thing that could have made her break her vow of silence. “Geoffrey, wait. Nothing happened between us.” Not exactly true, but their small transgression wasn’t the violation her brother feared had taken place. “I will swear it to you on Father’s grave.”
“You expect me to believe that?” His fury had not abated in the least.
“It is the truth. I am…” her cheeks heated, but she forced herself to continue, “still a virgin. We talked, nothing more.”
“What could you have found to talk about with that man for so long a time?”
Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, Joanna looked him in the eyes. “I tried to persuade him to run away to Gretna Green with me.”
The shocked, miserable look on Geoffrey’s face gave Joanna her first twinge of conscience. Eloping was considered a social faux pas on the same scale as ruination. Not only might she and Marcus face the ostracism of the ton , but Geoffrey and his children might suffer as well. Slowly his hand squeezed her wrist tighter.
“Ouch, Geoffrey. You’re hurting me.” Joanna pulled her hand away and he let her go, though he stood blocking the door all the same. She rubbed at her sore wrist, playing for time to figure out what to do or say next.
“Your presence here then indicates Dandridge wasn’t amenable to your suggestion?” A glimmer of something like hope flittered across her brother’s face. “Has he given up his mad scheme to marry you then?”
“It’s not a mad scheme, Geoffrey. We love one another.” Was her brother blind that he could not see it? “He persuaded me to wait and see if we could find a way in which you would allow our marriage to take place.” She snorted derisively. “He seems to be most worried that I will regret being torn from the bosom of my family if you disown me.”
“You should be worried.”
“But I’m not.” She rounded on him, her own fury rising. “Much as you disapprove, I love Marcus. And as I told you in Scotland, I will never agree to marry anyone else. If we have to wait three years and marry without your blessing, then so be it. But if you make us wait Geoffrey, so help me God, you will not be the one disowning me.” She raised her chin. “I will declare myself no longer part of this family.”
He stared at her for a moment, the lines of his face hardening. “Then so be it.” He scooped up the bag of coins and thrust it into his pocket. “You may find three years too long a time to wait. Or Dandridge might. In any case,” he turned for the door, “you will wait it out at home at Longford under lock and key until you come to your senses—or reach your majority.”
“You’re making a mistake, Geoffrey.” Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch.
“Better that I make one rather than you.” He paused at the door. “We leave for Longford in the morning. You are confined to this house until we do. I have given the servants their orders regarding this and have spelled out the dire consequences if they disobey me.” He gave her one last furious glare as he left. “I will see you in the morning.”
Joanna watched him enter the corridor and squared her shoulders. “We’ll see about that.”
Marcus stared at the scribbled-on sheets of foolscap scattered over his desk, each one representing a possible argument to put forward to Lord Longford regarding his marriage to Joanna. Unfortunately, every single one had been crossed out with a vicious X . He’d spent the hours since Joanna’s departure wracking his brain for ways to persuade her brother that the two of them should be allowed to marry. Trouble was, short of befriending King George and managing to have himself created an earl or viscount, Marcus feared there was no argument that would convince Longford that the marriage should go forward.
If Marcus could change his lineage, he’d do it without a qualm or a glance backward. But that wasn’t possible. So how was he to change the earl’s heart when nothing he could do would make an iota of difference? He was coming to the dismal conclusion that if he wished to marry his love, he would have to do the dishonorable thing and elope with her. For so many years, Marcus had prided himself on being an honorable man. He was ruthless in his business dealings to be sure, but even when making hard decisions, he always tried to keep his honor intact. It sat badly with him to think that in this most important of decisions, he might have to abandon the one thing he held almost as dear as he did Joanna. The key word being almost .
With a sigh, he picked up a fresh sheet of paper, dipped his pen in the inkpot and began to write out yet another reason to present to Lord Longford when distant shouting out in the vestibule of the club caught his attention. Whoever was making all that noise must be greatly agitated for the sound to carry through the thick English-oak door. Marcus laid the pen down and rose from his seat. He hoped to God it wasn’t Bartlow again. That would certainly put paid to this day’s disturbances.
Before Marcus could move from behind his desk, the office door burst open and Lord Longford strode in, his face dark with rage. “Where is she?”
“You’re looking for Lady Joanna?” Marcus backed up, keeping the expanse of desk between him and the crazed nobleman.
“Do you think I’m searching for Queen Charlotte?” Longford lunged across the desk and Marcus danced backward until his back hit the bookshelf. His lordship looked as though he’d throttle him if he got the chance.
“Lady Joanna is not here.” His gazed darted here and there, searching desperately for some sort of weapon to hand.
“Don’t lie to me, Dandridge.” The earl feinted to the left, but Marcus didn’t take the bait. “I know she was here earlier and there’s nowhere else she’d go.”
“She was here this afternoon, I will admit that. But I sent her away and she has not returned.” Fear for his life faded as a new horror took its place. “Do you mean you don’t know where she is?”
“I saw her just before we sat down to dine. I’d just told her I knew of your meeting this afternoon and that we were leaving London in the morning.” Longford’s face was drawn. “We argued and I confined her to the house, so I didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t appear at dinner. But when Lady Longford went to check on her afterward, she wasn’t in her chamber and her maid hadn’t seen her.” He looked at Marcus like a man lost in a fog. “I was certain she’d come here.”
“Did you check to see if she took a carriage?” Marcus began to churn out possible scenarios, where Joanna might go and how.
Lord Longford shook his head. “I’d left strict instructions the coachman wasn’t to take her anywhere, nor allow her a horse.”
“She could have taken a hack.” Dangerous for a lady alone at night, but safer than other possibilities.
“No, she’d no money. I’d taken that as well.”
Marcus glared at the man, now wanting to strangle him. “Then certainly she’s on foot. Come on.”
He hurried out the office door, Longford at his heels. “The street to the right is the direction she’d come from Mayfair. It’s less than a mile. If we’re lucky, we’ll find her along the way.”
“My carriage is out front—”
Marcus shook his head as they stepped out into the dark night. “If she’s afoot, it’s best we are as well. Easier to see into the alleyways in case she’s taken a wrong turn.” Or been taken down one of the dark pathways by some random scoundrel. Marcus’s blood ran cold at the thought, and he hurried his pace down the sidewalk. The streets weren’t as crowded as usual, which was a mercy. In the quiet, it would be easier to hear someone being accosted. Why must his mind turn to such gruesome images? He badly wanted to call her name in the hopes she’d become disoriented and hidden herself away somewhere, but that seemed too risky at this point, so they continued their silent hunt.
Their measured pace allowed them not only to search all the passersby, but to peer down the dark alleys as well. “Longford, you should take the other side of the street. There’s no telling which side she might have taken.”
The earl nodded and waited for a carriage to pass before stepping off the sidewalk to cross the road. He’d just reached the pavement on the far side, however, when a woman’s scream pierced the dark night followed moments later by the crash of a pistol shot.
Marcus wheeled around—the scream had come from an alleyway to his right that they had just passed—and sprinted back up the pavement, praying that they had found Joanna and that they were not too late.