Birds of a Feather (8 page)

Donning the tattered remnants of his composure, he dropped his hands. It was past time to leave town. This ridiculous attraction called his sanity into question and threatened his reputation with ruin.

“If you don’t wish to draw unfavorable notice, then pay attention to your surroundings,” he growled. “Next time I’ll deliver you to Bedlam, where you belong.” Giving her no chance to respond, he headed for his rooms.

Joanna castigated herself as Lord Sedgewick strode away. How had she tumbled into another bumblebroth? After yesterday, she had vowed to be more careful. Yet barely twenty-four hours later, she had fallen into a new abstraction that again had drawn his attention.

Why did it have to be him? She had run Harriet’s errands every day since arriving in town. Not once had she created a scandal, except when he was in the vicinity.

She had no excuse. Granted, she was plagued by problems, not least of which was Harriet’s penchant for ruining gloves and stockings. But pondering solutions should not have blinded her to her surroundings. Not until she’d crashed into that woman had she recalled where she was.

She was grateful that someone had prevented a worse disaster, but did it have to be Lord Sedgewick? His look of horror at recognizing her had left her incoherent, stammering and stuttering until even she was not sure what she had been trying to say. Her performance had flustered her so badly that she’d compounded the problem by blurting out mortifying insults. Why hadn’t the street opened up to swallow her?

The echo of her words raised new blushes. She could hardly blame him for losing his temper. How could she have been so stupid? And this was only the beginning. They were attending Almack’s tonight. If he recognized her, he would delight in exposing her foibles. What would Lady Wicksfield do if Joanna was ejected?

But even fear could not hold her attention for long. Her arms throbbed where he had grasped her, and not from pain. Up close, he left her breathless. Now she knew why he seemed so different from other gentlemen. His dandy airs covered a burning masculinity that few men possessed. It simmered just beneath the surface, flaring when he was angry into a force that could overpower anyone.

She shivered, appalled at her reaction. How could she respond to an arrogant lord of limited intelligence and less regard for her feelings? A lord who would grant precedence to pond scum over her. A lord who could destroy Harriet with a word, and might well do so to avenge his damaged dignity. He would not forgive this debacle any time soon.

Forgetting to apologize to the woman she had knocked down, who was still screeching complaints, she headed home.

All afternoon she debated whether to reveal her stupidity to Lady Wicksfield, though in the end, she remained silent. Nothing would prevent Lord Sedgewick from ruining her if he chose to do so, but there was a chance that he would not recognize her. While he had examined her more closely this time, he would hardly expect to find her at Almack’s, and she doubted whether he paid attention to minions even there. On the other hand, confessing her trouble might well cost her both this position and the governess post that awaited her, for Lady Wicksfield would immediately report it to the earl. Who would entrust their daughters to a woman whose head was in the clouds?

Once they left for Almack’s, she had no time to brood. Containing Harriet’s excitement required all her attention.

“I can’t believe we are nearly there!” the girl gasped, spotting the entrance as they joined the line of carriages inching along King Street. “I can hardly wait to behold its magnificence. How much grander will it be than Lady Ormsport’s ballroom?”

“Calm yourself, Harriet,” Joanna reminded her. “Remember Society’s watchwords – elegance and
ennui
. You must keep your face and voice under control. Lady Hartford claims that Almack’s is neat but unembellished and that the refreshments are quite frugal. We have discussed this before.”

“Of course.” Harriet clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “But it seems strange.”

“Not at all. This is not a private ball. We must pay admission. The cachet of Almack’s is the exclusive company, for even money and position will not guarantee receiving the voucher that allows one to purchase a subscription. The patronesses require exceptional conduct and a spotless reputation. You can lose that voucher if your behavior displeases them, so mind your manners. Do not complain about anything, and never compare this to other gatherings. Do you understand why?”

She nodded. “If they do not like me, I will not be allowed to return.”

“Exactly.” At least one lesson had taken root. “Straighten your gloves and get ready,” she added as the carriage stopped at the door.

The street was jammed, but she hardly saw the other vehicles. This was the moment of truth, the moment when she learned whether her latest lapse would condemn her. If she were refused admittance, Lady Wicksfield would have to send her back to the vicarage.

But her fears proved groundless – so far. And the ballroom was more sumptuous than she had expected. Great columns marched down the long walls. Five large windows overlooked King Street, each framed by rich draperies. The musicians sat on a Juliet balcony supported by yet more columns. Londoners might think it plain, but to eyes accustomed to a village vicarage, it was magnificent.

Harriet was soon surrounded by her court. Her dance card rapidly filled. Lady Wicksfield abandoned them to gossip with her friends.

But Joanna’s mind kept wandering. Her eyes snapped toward the doorway whenever a gentleman appeared, irritating her, though she could not seem to stop.

Concentrate on business,
she admonished herself when she realized she was again staring at the entrance. She would fall into some new debacle at this rate. Already she had nearly allowed Harriet to chatter unchecked. But despite her best intentions, she did not relax until the patronesses barred the doors at eleven. Not even Lord Sedgewick could gain admittance now.

His absence was noted.

“He hasn’t missed a subscription ball in years,” said Lady Debenham. “Has he fallen ill?” She sounded thoroughly out of sorts at having to ask.

“I heard he received an unexpected visitor,” swore Lady Horseley.

Lady Beatrice shook her head. “So gullible. You should know better than to believe rumors.”

Joanna nearly burst into laughter at London’s premier gossip warning someone against rumors.

“I suppose you know differently?”

“Of course. He left for his estate at two o’clock this afternoon. He
said
he had business, but the real reason was an argument with his mother. She is increasing her pressure.”

Her listeners broke into confused murmurs of shock, condemnation, and support. Joanna sidled away, fearful that someone might notice her relief. He was gone. By the time he returned, he would have forgotten their encounters.

The current set finished. Almont escorted Harriet back to her side, then moved off to find his next partner.

“Lady Harriet,” said Lord Ellisham, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “That gown makes your eyes even bluer.”

Harriet smiled. “How nice of you to notice.”

“Have you any country dances free?”

Her face fell. “Not a one, my lord.”

“Perhaps another day.” He waited until Mr. Craven distracted her attention before smiling at Joanna. “I thought that might be the case.”

“You are a complete hand, my lord.” Then she blushed at being so forward. “Forgive me, I cannot seem to do anything lately that is not either gauche or mortifying – usually both.”

“That particular lapse was hardly deserving of notice.”

“The others were not. I am amazed I was allowed in here tonight.”

“Oh?”

His eyes conveyed curiosity and sympathy. Before she could stop, she blurted out the very facts she had sought to hide. “I have drawn unfavorable attention from the most arrogant gentleman in town. If he were here, I would doubtless be out in the street by now.”

“For what crime, if I might be so bold?”

“It was quite inadvertent – though he read me such a scold that I am still quaking. He believes me a candidate for Bedlam and ordered me not to leave the house again without a keeper.”

“Heavens!”

“Exactly. I had just purchased some gloves for Harriet – she ruined three pair in a single week – and was pondering how to prevent further carelessness, when I bumped into the most vulgar matron, if her language is any judge. But I must believe that she exaggerated her grievance, for this gentleman prevented her from falling into the street or sustaining the slightest injury. And she shared at least half the blame. She was striding along Bond Street at so great a rate that she outpaced Lord Osbourne’s new curricle, and you must know how he drives.”

“Quite.” His lips twitched. “Springs his horses without offering up so much as a prayer for those in his path.”

“Exactly. You would have thought she was fleeing a mob, so why that odious man blamed me, I cannot say. He shook me until my teeth rattled, then castigated me for any number of crimes without allowing me a single word in my own defense.”

“What about the woman?”

“She was screeching her woes to the world and raining curses on both our heads, but he completely ignored her. After heaping any number of insults onto my shoulders, he strode off in high dudgeon.”

“A trying encounter, to be sure.” He chuckled. “Did you recognize the lady?”

“Not in the least, though she was wearing the most outrageous hat I have ever laid eyes on.”

“And a cloak lined in ermine, I’ll be bound,” he interrupted.

“How did you know?”

“She moves like a man-of-war under full sail in a raging gale, venting her pique on anything she finds annoying. Her name is Mrs. Stanhope. Although her breeding is acceptable, she married a Cit and has been unbearably obnoxious ever since her daughter was refused admission to Almack’s. Picturing her knocked into the street is the most delightful image to come my way in some time. I wish I could have seen it.” He gave in and laughed.

“I take it she is not one of your favorite people.”

“Hardly. We have exchanged words on more than one occasion. Did she read you a scold once the gentleman departed?”

She could feel her face heat at the memory. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I left without a word myself. I was so furious that I forgot she was there.”

Ellisham laughed even harder. “How priceless. Ignored by everyone! But who, pray tell, was the gentleman?”

“An arrogant, overbearing meddler who seems to believe he is better than everyone else. He already made me into a laughingstock over yesterday’s confrontation. What he will do this time, I have no idea. I suspect that nothing pleases him.”

“What happened yesterday?”

She blushed. “Another of my scrapes. I don’t know why I thought myself capable of chaperoning Harriet. I cannot pass a week without getting into trouble.”

“I can’t imagine how.”

“My mind fixes on its thoughts, leaving me oblivious to my surroundings. I hope I do not draw censure onto Harriet’s head.”

“You will not.”

She glanced up in surprise.

“I will not allow it.”

“Thank you. My bumblebroths are mortifying enough without involving others.”

“So what happened yesterday?”

“A dog.” She sighed. “Two boys were tormenting it. In my haste to stop them, I failed to see an approaching carriage. The man dragged me out from in front of it.” She bit her lip. “I must admit that he did chase off the boys and return Maximillian to his owner. But he made considerable sport of me last night, so I cannot feel properly grateful.”

“Dear Lord. You cannot mean Sedge!”

“Lord Sedgewick Wylie. Someone identified him while he pilloried me. Odious fool.”

His laughter was drawing attention, so he stifled it, growing quite red-faced in the process. “Beyond priceless. You are a pearl, indeed, my dear. I never thought to find anyone capable of criticizing Sedge – or of destroying his uncanny control.” His eyes lit with speculation.

“Pardon me,” she said stiffly. “But his character is quite lacking – not that I should be ripping up his conduct when he is not present to defend himself, but it is no more than he did to me. A more presumptuous man I’ve yet to meet.”

Another chuckle escaped. “I must apologize for his lack of tact, Miss Patterson. Believe me, he is anything but odious. Nor is he particularly arrogant, though he does occasionally play that role in public. Perhaps you will give him a chance to redeem himself.”

“Another of his slaves. I suppose he is your closest friend,” she said, then blushed.

“In a way. He is my brother.”

She jumped, dropping her head to hide another blush. “I see my tongue has again betrayed me. Forgive me.”

“Of course. But you needn’t flee.” She was inching away. “I find it refreshing that someone does not dote on him. People have practically worshipped him since Brummell left.”

“Why?”

His eyes grew serious. “It started with the cubs. Boys in town for the first time often choose older mentors to mimic, copying dress, manners, interests, even those unique little habits we all have. It serves an admirable purpose if the models are honorable, for it allows the lads to quickly fit in. Brummell was the pattern card for many years – in fact, Sedge was one of his followers when he came down from Oxford. But Brummell was getting rather long in the tooth even before he fled his creditors, so many cubs preferred Sedge. He has a great deal of fashion sense. Frankly, I would rather people followed his lead than some of the more flamboyant dressers.”

“Yes, he does manage to look elegant even when reading one a scold.”

“He is now the most powerful arbiter of fashion in town, and unlike others, he feels the responsibility of his position, keeping an eye on his imitators. When one of them is headed for trouble, he can often deflect him. Like young Orville last night. The cub has been denigrating ladies to his opera dancers. Sedge set him straight.”

“Laudable,” was all she said, though he could have been gentler about how he had gone about it. Mr. Orville had nearly collapsed in full view of two hundred members of Society.