Page 7 of The Dandy Lyon

Chapter Four

Near Thornhill, Scotland

August 11th

The 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?