Birds of a Feather (16 page)

“So he must wed someone far beneath his touch, whom he dislikes, solely because your mother wishes to set up a nursery?”

“Please do not judge so harshly. And consider your own situation, Joanna. You will be ruined unless you marry him.”

She would be ruined anyway. Tears threatened, but she blinked them away. He was right. Not even a merchant would hire a ruined spinster to teach his daughters. “Poor Papa,” she murmured. “He will never understand. I don’t know how I can face him.”

“He knows Society’s rules as well as I do. And he will see the benefits. After all, Sedge is considered the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart.”

“So he informed me.” Her icy tones brought a flush to Reggie’s cheeks. “Papa has no aspirations to Society. He has long condemned marriages of convenience, so I know exactly how he will feel about this one. And what about your parents? No matter how badly they wish to see him wed, they will hardly welcome me. I am amazed that your mother has not already swooped out to halt this farce. She was appalled enough when she realized that we were friends.”

“She isn’t here.” The music swirled to a close. “We will talk later,” he said, leading her back to her alcove. “Try to accept the inevitable, Joanna. I truly believe that this will be a good match. And you have one firm supporter. I welcome you into the family with all my heart.”

“Thank you, Reggie. Perhaps that will be enough.” The words were merely formality, for she knew it would not be.

“You have remained on view long enough,” he continued as another wave of people converged on her corner. “I will escort you home.”

He was as good as his word, easily persuading Lady Wicksfield to leave. He bantered lightheartedly with Harriet for the entire journey, deflecting all questions.

But Joanna knew that he had merely postponed the inevitable. Lady Wicksfield was angrier than ever before. Only her hope of snaring Reggie was restraining her temper.

* * * *

Even as he fended off a barrage of impertinent questions, Sedge kept one eye on Reggie’s waltz with Miss Patterson. The future appeared worse than ever.

She was more relaxed than he had seen her all evening, sharing genuine smiles and warm glances with his brother.

The knot in his stomach tightened when Reggie burst into laughter. Every smile hammered the truth into his head. She had been on her way to meet Reggie. They shared a rapport enjoyed by few married couples. The sparks flashing between them were unmistakable.

Fate had certainly landed him a facer this time. How could he wed a woman who was in love with his brother? He tried to imagine undressing her, touching her, leading her to bed…

He couldn’t do it. Despite that enticing body – which continued to raise his interest, he admitted grimly, grateful that Elizabethan trunk-hose hid the evidence – bedding her seemed incestuous. Why hadn’t he let Reggie tend her injury?

The answer was obvious, of course. He had ordered Reggie away because he’d recognized his brother’s attraction and wanted to prevent it from growing. Reggie had accepted because he’d realized that Sedge was too angry to remove Jenny without creating a scandalous scene.

He suppressed a new grimace. He had never believed Jenny could be so stupid. Another wave of fury swept over him, making it difficult to accept Lady Marchgate’s felicitations.

He ejected Jenny from his mind. She would receive her
congé
from his secretary in the morning. He would have dismissed her anyway after tonight’s fiasco, but now he had no choice. He believed in marital fidelity – even under these circumstances.

Somehow, he must overcome his distaste. Neither of them could counter fate. His own reputation would recover if he refused, but he could not ruin hers. If he failed to take her to wife, she would wind up as a courtesan. No other job would be open.

He slipped into the refreshment room so he could no longer see her dancing with Reggie. He had until eleven o’clock to accept this abrupt change in his life. Looking for a lady who would suit him the way Elizabeth suited Randolph was no longer possible.

Miss Patterson had none of the attributes he had sought in a wife. Her breeding was minimal. She was a stuttering rustic with few social graces, who would likely embarrass him at every turn. He doubted if she could successfully plan refreshments for an afternoon of callers, let alone arrange a dinner or ball. Her wardrobe demonstrated a woeful lack of style. Even her wit and intelligence would bring him no pleasure, for it was too closely allied with her scheming.

The reminder bit painfully into his stomach. How long could he remain loyal to a wife who loved his brother?

Rage again flared. If Miss Patterson had not plotted to snare Reggie, he would not be in this fix.

CHAPTER TEN

Reggie escorted Lady Wicksfield to the door, heaping a last round of compliments on Harriet before leaving.

Joanna knew he hoped to soften the anger that had kept Lady Wicksfield tight-lipped since leaving the ballroom, but the task was hopeless. The moment Harriet started upstairs, Lady Wicksfield ordered Joanna into the drawing room.

“How dare you abandon your sworn duty!” she snapped.

“I didn’t—”

But she ignored the protest. “I am appalled, Miss Patterson. Appalled! Only a greedy upstart would take advantage of our favor to feather her own nest. I warned Wicksfield that allowing a low-born rustic into Society would lead to trouble. Hovering on the fringes of the polite world was bound to give you ideas. And I was right.”

“You were wrong, my lady.”

“Enough of your insolence, girl,” she hissed, discarding any pretense of gentility. “I’ve seen how you flirt with the gentlemen, and I’ve watched you steer the most eligible suitors away from Harriet – distracting Lord Ellisham, deflecting Lord Almont. Did you think your wiles went unnoticed? You vowed to see her settled, yet you have prevented her from making a match.”

“You wrong m—”

Again she overrode the protest. “Wicksfield will receive a full report of your perfidy. Entrusting our future to an inexperienced fortune hunter was a grave error. But you will get your comeuppance. Even Lord Sedgewick cannot force Society to accept you – especially when people learn how you betrayed us.”

“I betrayed nothing.” She glared at her erstwhile employer. “I have carried out Wicksfield’s orders to the letter. Do you really believe I want this? Wedding Lord Sedgewick must lead to disaster. The only schemers this evening were your brainless friends, whose meddling is forcing me into an untenable future.”

Lady Wicksfield’s snort filled the drawing room. “Don’t bother uttering your pathetic excuses. Your actions speak for themselves. I find your morals questionable, your honor nonexistent, and your character odiously selfish. Lord Sedgewick is far too high in the instep to look twice at so lowly a creature, so you must have trapped him. But your greed is futile, for you cannot be stupid enough to expect a place in Society. He will likely lock you away in the country.”

Joanna clamped her mouth shut, for argument was useless. Lady Wicksfield would never accept the truth because she assumed that everyone shared her own greed. But her wariness increased when Lady Wicksfield’s eyes gleamed with sudden cunning.

“But your future may be less bleak than I thought,” the countess said, smiling. “My support will assure Society’s acceptance, just as it got you into Almack’s. I will overlook your betrayal, provided you immediately see Harriet settled. Since you are adept at bringing a powerful lord up to scratch, you should have no trouble arranging a match for her. I will expect Lord Ellisham’s offer within the week. If you fail, I will destroy you.”

The woman wanted Harriet betrothed so that she would not have to chaperon the girl. Her return to London had revived friendships with old schoolmates whose acceptance had exaggerated her opinion of her own social standing. How could she claim more power than even Lord Sedgewick wielded?

And an even stronger motive was pride. Lord Sedgewick outranked all of Harriet’s suitors except Reggie. Lady Wicksfield would feel insulted if a mere companion took precedence over her own daughter. But she must have realized that Reggie would never willingly offer.

“You misunderstand, my lady,” she said, forcing cordiality into her voice. “Lord Sedgewick’s offer arose from chivalry. If I could escape marriage without damaging his reputation, I would gladly do so. Never would I knowingly trap any gentleman, for an unwilling union must become intolerable. Requesting that I snare another is so dishonorable that I cannot believe you are serious.”

“You dare to call me dishonorable?” Lady Wicksfield’s voice rose to a screech. “Ungrateful, encroaching liar! How can you contaminate Society with your presence? You tricked us from the beginning, throwing yourself on Wicksfield’s mercy, wheedling until he gave you more authority than he gave his own wife! I cannot even buy a packet of pins without your approval! When I think of how I begged Lady Cowper for your Almack’s voucher, I could weep.”

“This discussion is pointless.” Joanna interrupted the tirade. “You are deliberately twisting facts. Wicksfield approached me to chaperon Harriet, which I have done to the best of my ability—” she ignored the guilt over her conversations with Reggie; without his help, her job would have been impossible “—rescuing her from potential scandal any number of times. Wicksfield’s judgment is sound, as your behavior proves. You are blind when it comes to Harriet’s suitors. Ellisham will never wed, and Almont’s affections are reserved for his mistress. Yet despite knowing that Wicksfield places Harriet’s interests beside his own, you continue to pursue gentlemen who would make her miserable. He will not be pleased by your scheming. Nor will Society.”

She departed while Lady Wicksfield was still gasping for breath.

The future looked grim indeed. Lord Sedgewick had demanded an immediate wedding, so she must first convince him to wait. She needed time to think if they were to avoid disaster. Lady Wicksfield might wield no social clout, but the woman was right about one thing. Society would never accept her.

She pressed her pounding temples, trying to ease the pain enough to clear her mind. Everything that had happened since her fall was a blur of color, scent, and sound. The only vivid images she retained were Lord Sedgewick’s furious eyes and Reggie’s satisfied smile. But no one else had welcomed news of this betrothal. Shock, scorn, and ridicule had underlain the social smiles and insincere felicitations. Everyone assumed she had trapped him. Once shock subsided and the gossipmongers started working, things would be worse.

No one would believe her protests. No one would accept his explanations. Gentlemen of Lord Sedgewick’s stature did not offer for companions, no matter how many great houses they could claim kinship to. Society would always see her as a fortune hunter who had grabbed a chance to escape servitude. No one cared that she had twice eschewed marriage to a wealthy man. No fortune could offset the misery of living with someone who did not want her.

Blinking away tears, she stared into the garden. Reggie claimed that his brother was a loving, caring man with interests unknown to Society. She could accept that, though she doubted he would squander his caring on her. But what Reggie refused to believe was that Lord Sedgewick found her disgusting. Tonight’s fury may have grown from the situation, but his underlying disdain was real. Even while laughing together at Hatchard’s, she had sensed his antipathy.

Reading him was surprisingly easy. She had watched him closely since his return to town, trying to anticipate any retaliation for exposing him to ridicule in Bond Street that day. No matter what face he presented to the world, she always knew when he was pleased, bored, angry, or scornful, as he usually was around her. The keys were his eyes and his aura of passionate virility.

His eyes varied from flat gray to bright blue, their color reflecting his mood. Most of the time, they were a light blue-gray – dull when he was bored, sparkling when something piqued his interest. Pleasure intensified the blue, while anger leeched it away, leaving only gray.

His aura revealed the intensity of his emotions – absent if he was bored or mildly irritated, powerful enough that she had trouble breathing if he was hiding excitement, hatred, or rage.

Tonight, he had already been furious when she’d arrived in the hallway – sensing him had drawn her attention to the group by the stairs. Mary’s skimpy costume was probably responsible, for the ultimate arbiter of fashion would be appalled that anyone might wear such a gown to a Society ball.

Not that the impropriety surprised Joanna. Mary had never been particularly bright, often doing and saying things inappropriate to the occasion. Her elopement with an actor from a traveling theater company had shocked the neighborhood, though it was typical of her starts. And it seemed to have turned out well.

But she digressed. Sedgewick’s anger had overwhelmed him when Mrs. Drummond-Burrell appeared, scrambling his thinking; he should have known that his credit could turn aside any criticism. Even after he’d controlled his face, the fury still simmered. Their waltz had been horrid. His eyes had been harsh gray, as flat as slate. His turbulence had beat against her in the most concentrated burst she had ever felt.

He had held her in contempt since their first unfortunate meeting. His only reason for approaching her since then had been to terminate her friendship with Reggie. Now they faced an impossible future made worse by his social position. So lofty an arbiter of fashion could never accept a mere companion.

If she were lucky, he would install her in a remote cottage and forget about her. But she doubted that would happen. Reggie would never wed, so Lord Sedgewick must secure the succession. He was not a man who shirked duty – as this betrothal proved. But intimacy with a man who disliked the very sight of her might be too much to bear.

And their future might be even worse. Society was a shallow institution, which meant that loyalties could change in an instant. Few had repined when Brummell’s debts sent him fleeing the country. They had merely turned to Lord Sedgewick for leadership. They could just as quickly abandon him.