Birds of a Feather (23 page)

Could she protect Harriet from a similar fate? Lady Wicksfield was allowing Braxton to dance attendance on the girl, apparently uncaring of his financial woes – she was determined to keep Harriet’s court as large as possible. Joanna had no proof that he was obsessed, but the gleam in his eye bothered her. She could only hope that Wethersby would claim Harriet’s hand before anything happened.

But when two more days passed with no sign of Wethersby, she began to wonder. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. She hoped he was with Sedgewick, but the fact that he had told no one that he was leaving made it unlikely. He could have met with an accident or become a victim of foul play. Or he could have gone home to Yorkshire. Had he been toying with Harriet’s affections?

The question was far from idle. Every day brought new proof that she did not understand the polite world. A gentleman she had considered hopelessly toplofty stopped to assist an injured street urchin. A lady of impeccable manners burst into a tirade worthy of a Billingsgate fishwife because her new riding hat was missing one feather. A lord who strongly supported educating tenants gave the cut direct to a dowager for urging him to establish schools for the lower classes.

People were far more complex than she had thought. They could not be neatly labeled.

The admission increased her impatience for Sedgewick’s return. He was a mass of contradictions. In public, an empty-headed fribble pursuing a useless life of fashion and gossip. In private, a well-educated gentleman capable of dealing with any emergency. He offered subtle guidance to young people and a willing ear to crusty older folk. Yet after forcing her into an unwanted marriage, he was helping Harriet escape another, claiming he hated such unions.

No such contradictions applied to Lady Glendale. She had demanded Joanna’s attendance in her sitting room the previous afternoon. Under the guise of becoming acquainted, she had laid bare every shortcoming, including several Joanna had never considered.

“You are familiar with your new duties, of course,” she had said without preamble.

“I believe so.” The statement was rash, but she had hoped to prevent any questions. She might resent Sedgewick’s tutelage, but his assumptions were easier to bear than the malicious gleam in Lady Glendale’s eyes.

“I doubt it. Why have you made no attempt to instruct the staff?”

“It is your home, madam,” she’d said without thought.

“You had been here two days before my return. Are you even familiar with the duties of the servants? I hate to think of the errors you might introduce into the household accounts.” She had let out a long-suffering sigh. “But at least I need not fear you will disrupt Glendale Close. Reggie will wed soon, so your ignorance and incompetence will not overturn centuries of tradition. Mismanaging Meadowbanks will be bad enough.”

By the time the woman finished quizzing her on every nuance of running an estate, Joanna was tongue-tied and stammering. But when Lady Glendale exposed her ignorance of how to organize a ball and entertain royalty, embarrassment gave way to fury.

“I doubt I will face such a challenge in the immediate future, my lady. Nor do I believe Sedgewick would leave arrangements entirely to me. He is too particular to allow even you to plan his gatherings.”

“You are so naïve.” Lady Glendale shook her head, the sorrowful expression on her face belied by the fury blazing in her eyes. “Gentlemen never dirty their hands with such low occupations. They go their own way, expecting their wives to deal with any crises.”

“Lord Glendale may have done so,” said Joanna recklessly. “But a perfectionist like Sedgewick never relinquishes control.”

“He interferes only when incompetence threatens his credit. I am surprised he has not already hustled you out of sight to protect the family from scandal.”

Joanna refused to cringe from the barrage of barbs, though every shaft stabbed her heart. Coming to terms with Sedgewick’s mother seemed impossible. The woman would never accept her. And she had a point. Joanna had not been trained as a Society hostess, which boded ill for a future tied to Society’s leader. Perhaps she had been mistaken when she thought Sedgewick might be softening.

To make matters worse, his absence from town had been duly noted. New rumors claimed he had fled, unable to tolerate his wife a moment longer. Others suggested that he was searching out a remote site so he could banish her. Still others swore that she had blatantly seduced him, then rushed him into marriage in the name of honor. But he was pursuing an annulment.

The calumny was eroding his image even further. Several cubs had already switched their allegiance to Kingsford, claiming his sense of style surpassed Sedgewick’s. Others had reverted to more flamboyant dress. How would he react to his diminished standing? She was ultimately to blame.

* * * *

Sedge headed for Joanna’s sitting room. He was exhausted – not from the long trip, though Wethersby’s company had worn thin long before they returned, but from the distaste of prying into another man’s affairs. At least Joanna need no longer fret over Harriet.

He had to approve her sense of duty. Few ladies would care about a former employer once fate had catapulted them into luxury. Fewer would risk themselves to rescue a child described by many as a limb of Satan, or teach a legless soldier to read and write so he could find work, or pester a landowner until he opened a school for tenant children. Yes, this trip had taught him much about his wife.

Reggie had not exaggerated her breeding. In fact, she was connected to more great houses than he had expected, which would ease her entrance into his world. He had not realized that her mother had literally grown up at Wicksfield Manor, sharing the nursery with the current earl, who was only one year her junior. When Wicksfield had devised his scheme, he had consulted the cousin who was closer than his sisters. She had suggested Joanna. It had been an admirable choice.

Joanna had been correct that Wicksfield was not venal, nor was he completely destitute. The man was entitled to a modicum of pride under the circumstances. If he had not faced the imminent launching of three daughters, he could have retrenched with no one the wiser.

Wicksfield had been shocked to find two London gentlemen on his doorstep. But that reaction had rapidly changed to fury…

Sedge let out a long sigh before rapping on the sitting-room door.

“You’re back.” The words were prosaic, but Joanna’s smile made him feel almost welcome.

“I trust you adequately entertained yourself in my absence.”

The smile disappeared. “Of course. Reggie has been most attentive. Did your business go well?”

He nearly flinched. First he’d put her back up by implying that she could never manage on her own. Then he’d raised the reminder of her devotion to Reggie. How could he have been so stupid? A watcher would think he’d never set foot in the polite world. “Lady Harriet should be receiving an offer from Wethersby within the hour.”

“Wonderful!” Her smile flared, imparting the glow that brought out her beauty. “How did you manage that? If you feel up to talking about it,” she added. “You must be exhausted.”

The sincere concern raised warmth in his chest, though the rapid emotional swings left him reeling. She was right about the exhaustion. But he joined her on the settee.

“I took Wethersby with me to Wicksfield Manor,” he began.

“Thank goodness. Harriet has been frantic over his disappearance. No one knew anything, so she naturally assumed the worst. Last night she was convinced he’d abandoned her. The evening before she was stammering about footpads and a body dragged from the Thames.”

“Wethersby must be the world’s greatest gudgeon! Didn’t he leave word when we left?”

“Not that I know of.”

He shook his head. “I knew he had limited sense by the time we reached the Bath Road, but I never suspected such shocking manners. Perhaps I should not have promoted this match. How will he manage to keep her?”

“According to Reggie, he has a very able steward and is smart enough to hire a good man of business. He is well suited to Harriet, for her own understanding is not the best.”

“I suppose there is merit in that.”

“But how did you convince Wicksfield to agree? You must have done so.”

“You were correct about his finances. He had hoped that Harriet would succeed, but he is unwilling to sacrifice her merely to salvage his pride. Once Wethersby earned his consent, Wicksfield wrote to his wife. I suspect he chided her for allowing her greed to overlook Harriet’s interests and for failing to apprise him of our marriage. In fact, he was so angry over that last that I feared he might suffer an apoplexy. But my appearance on Harriet’s behalf confirmed his trust in you.”

“Thank you, my lord. Words cannot express my gratitude.”

“Do you not wish to hear the rest?”

“There is more?” Her eyes widened.

He grinned. “Having bestirred myself to travel all the way to Oxfordshire, I was not about to leave the problem half-solved. Lady Harriet has two young sisters who will also need husbands.” He sighed affectedly.

“So what additional sacrifice did you make?” Her grin removed any sting from the words. It was the first time she had teased him.

“Wicksfield’s losses arose from heeding an incompetent man of business. I offered him the loan he needs, on condition that he replace the man with my cousin, whose acumen has already been demonstrated.”

“Why would such a paragon be available to take this new position?”

“His previous employer died. Geoffrey never got along with the heir, so settling him solves one of my own problems – or Reggie’s, actually; Father dislikes that branch of the family, so they’ve learned to bring their troubles to Reggie. But Wicksfield’s finances should be better than ever within five years, particularly if he leases out Wicksfield House for the next Season or two.”

“Keeping his free-spending wife close to home.”

“Exactly. I also recommended a prospective governess for Sir Brendan. Wicksfield will make the arrangements, having just learned of your marriage.”

“Heavens! I had forgot all about that. How can I thank you, my lord?” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“You can start by calling me Sedge.” The request was not spontaneous. He had taken a hard look at his marriage during his days away. His regrets were making the situation worse than it need be. Hiding anger and bitterness while producing the affection he wished to show the world had required all his energy. The strain had taken its toll, contributing to the cold fury that surfaced in private. But such an attitude was unworthy of a gentleman.

Marriages of convenience had been the standard for centuries. Half of his ancestors had met their brides for the first time at the altar. Most of the unions had worked well enough, and some had spawned close friendship and even love. But whatever the future held, Joanna did not deserve his anger. He must refrain from now on.

Time away from public scrutiny had mitigated his ire. Now he must set aside regret. The die was cast. He could only look forward and try to build rapport with his wife. This meeting was a new beginning for both of them.

Reggie remained a problem, but reflection had convinced him that Joanna’s face lacked the depth of feeling that Reggie’s showed. Since he doubted she could exert that much control, she must merely be infatuated. Thus they could eventually come to an accommodation. The first step was to cultivate her friendship.

She was as much a victim as he. More so, in some respects, for the past few days could not have been pleasant. His sudden departure must have worsened the rumors, exposing her to suspicion and outright antagonism. He could only imagine what interpretation Lady Wicksfield had placed on his absence.

Then there was his mother. He should have considered her hostility before leaving town. With luck, she had not vented her spleen on Joanna, but it was not a question he could ask. Admitting aloud that his mother deplored this match would hurt her.

But this was no time for deep thinking. “Shall we drive out for the fashionable hour?”

“That would be delightful, m—Sedge,” she said, rising. “Be sure to tell Reggie he need no longer escort me. He cringes every time he calls – your mother pounced on him two days ago when he arrived early. He will be thankful to find your orders rescinded.”

“That is an odd way of phrasing it.”

“Why? There are a thousand things he would rather be doing than keeping the harridans polite. Cutting them merely turns a private skirmish into public scandal, but he lacks your skill with a quizzing glass so must resort to malevolent glowers. Not at all the thing.”

“Who is being unpleasant?” He could not hide his anger.

She snorted. “You know these people far better than I do. And you know exactly how they feel about having me thrust into their world. But no one has dared cut me. Your power remains.”

She almost sounded mocking. He must be more tired than he had thought. Or perhaps she was trying to tease him. He would accept her words in that light. And he would interpret any future situations in her favor as well.

He rose. “I must change if we are to drive out.”

* * * *

Joanna watched him enter his bedroom, her head swirling with more emotions than she could define.

He had provided far more help than she had requested. Not only had he settled Harriet, but he had bailed Wicksfield out of debt and completed her own unfinished business. She doubted that finding a job for Geoffrey had entered into it. A good man of business would have his choice of employers.

So she had been right to seek his help.

His actions supported her growing suspicion that his facade hid a sensitive nature – the sort of sensibility that made him susceptible to deep pain and would have left him helpless against his parents. Only by hiding it had he survived his father’s demands for perfection and his mother’s cutting disapproval.

Her own confrontation with Lady Glendale had been torture, but it had raised disturbing images of Sedge’s childhood. Granted, Lady Glendale hated Joanna’s low breeding and inadequate training. But the antagonism had run deeper, reminding her of an old neighbor. Both women abhorred anyone who dared to cross class boundaries. But buried beneath that automatic reaction was a powerful need to control – not just behavior and events, but people’s very thoughts. Lady Glendale would despise anyone who failed to follow her lead.