Page 8 of The Dandy Lyon

“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.