The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley (23 page)

Northcotte reached for the decanter and
poured a splash in both glasses. He took a swallow and held the
glass aloft, his elbow resting on the desk. “However, my father
would not allow the use of a whip or a crop in training. He loved
those horses. At times when I was a boy, I felt he loved them more
than me. When I came home from Cambridge, there were signs my
father had slipped into madness. They were subtle at first, but
grew more obvious over the next few years.”

He paused, swirling the liquid in his glass.
“He bought and sold horses, over-bred a few of our mares so that I
feared for their health. It was not until after he’d taken his own
life that I discovered he’d used the services of several
money-lenders to pay the stud fees.”

David shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He
hadn’t heard it was suicide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Northcotte nodded. “It was at our home in
Hampshire. The local doctor agreed to call it an accidental
shooting, to save Mother and Joanna from disgrace.”

Acid burned in David’s stomach. Was his
father’s melancholia a blessing, not a curse? He could just as
easily have become rabid in his pursuit of wins. David was grateful
for the way his life had gone. “I realize I’ve no right to ask, and
you may disregard the question if you wish. How were you able to
pay off the money-lenders without selling everything but the
entailed property?”

Northcotte’s lips thinned and pulled into a
smile on one side. “There’s the irony. Some of those foals Father
was so madly breeding proved to be fast runners. By selling some
horses, I added to the winnings and was able to forestall some of
the creditors, and pay some off completely. There is one, however,
who has become impossible to put off any longer.”

David waited to see if he would add to the
story.

“This man has given me the ultimatum of
paying him in full, or allowing him to marry my sister. The debt
would be considered her dowry.”

Those words wrapped like a fist around
David’s heart. “Sir Frederick Ardwen?”

“The same.”

“Lady Joanna told me he’d spoken to you.
Does she know you owe him money?”

“Thus far I’ve been able to keep my mother
and sister unaware of our debt. I told Lady Joanna she must find
another suitor if she wished to avoid Sir Frederick, but she only
has until the end of the Season.”

David offered a slight smile. “She has
accomplished that.”

“There is still the issue of the debt to Sir
Frederick if she marries someone else. He will call in the balance
due, and I’m not yet in the position to pay it.”

For the first time since he’d come into the
room, fear crept into David’s thoughts. “I am not a wealthy man,
but would gladly give what I have to keep her from marrying him.
Regardless of whether you allow her to marry me.”

Northcotte shook his head. “I don’t want
something like that hanging over Lady Joanna when she marries. I
can’t accept your offer. I’ve posted notices in Newmarket that I’ve
horses to sell. If worst comes to worst, I can auction some at
Tattersall’s, and hope I can raise enough in the next few weeks.
I’ve already spoken to the auction house, just to learn if I might
raise enough that way so Joanna doesn’t have to marry until she is
ready.”

“And?”

Northcotte shrugged. “There’s no way of
knowing how much people might bid on the horses. All the good
runners are gone, except Patriot. He’s the only one with a strong
record, but if I sold him, I would have to explain to my sister
what Father did to the estate’s finances. I’ve been fighting to
preserve my father’s memory in the eyes of my sister and mother.
Mother hasn’t taken his loss well.”

“It would kill Lady Joanna to lose that
horse. Don’t you think she has a right to know the truth about her
father? Surely she suspects he was not making completely sound
decisions, if the situation grew as serious as you say.”

“My father was a proud man. Well-respected
by many. I want Joanna to continue to be proud to be his
daughter.”

David locked eyes with the man across the
desk, realizing he could be looking at a reflection of himself.
He’d spent the past five years trying to bring back the man his
family remembered their father to be. Trying to maintain the pride
of his family. In the process, he’d blamed all his problems on a
son who’d been doing the same thing. He was no better than the
elder earl, whom he’d blamed for his father’s misery. “I
understand. I won’t speak of this to her.”

He’d not received an answer to his request
for Lady Joanna’s hand. “Do you approve of my marrying your
sister?”

“You have a lot of nerve. You don’t deny
you’ve been trying to ruin Northcotte Stud, and you think I’ll turn
my sister over to you?”

“I was not trying to ruin you. I wanted to
find the culprit and see him prosecuted, and was fixated about who
that person might be. I admit to being overzealous in that. We had
no reason to suspect anyone else.”

“You had no reason to suspect me or my
father.”

“If you’d been in our shoes, you’d have done
the same. Tell me our names didn’t cross your mind when your groom
was found dead.”

“His death was ruled accidental.”

“Before the ruling. It never crossed your
mind someone might have killed him?”

Northcotte took another drink. Setting down
the glass, he tapped a fingernail against the rim. “If I thought
anyone wished me harm, your family is one of the last I’d name. I
had a creditor in mind when I first heard Peter was dead.”

David leaned his hands on the edge of the
desk. “Sir Frederick? And you’re considering letting your sister
marry him?”

“No, I’m not considering it. I’m considering
letting her marry the man who thought
me
capable of killing.
And wondering what kind of fool I am for thinking it. Yet the
alternative sends cold chills down my spine.”

Holding his breath, David nearly pleaded.
“You know I’d never let harm come to her.”

“I believe you would work as hard to keep
her safe as I’ve tried to do. Yet I don’t know if I’m a big enough
man to set aside the slander your family has spewed on mine.”

“You can count on me keeping her safe. What
will you do about Sir Frederick?” David asked.

“Well, if you marry quickly, there is
nothing he can do about it. I can request a special license. If he
sends me to the workhouse, at least Joanna and Mother will have a
home with you.”

“No, that won’t do. She’d question the rush,
and I don’t think she’s naïve enough to believe I couldn’t bear to
wait for the banns to be read.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Northcotte said.
“Once Sir Frederick saw the first announcement, he would call in
the debt. I don’t think I can set up the auction by then.”

“What if I buy Patriot?”

“You?”

David spread his arms. “After all this, you
can’t say you don’t wish for any Northcotte horses to race for
Fernleigh. You sold a mare to my cousin.”

Northcotte smirked. “Actually, I wondered if
you wanted to retire Patriot so Triton would have a chance at a
win.”

Grinning, David nodded, the tension draining
slowly from his body. “There were times I might have considered it.
I had another use for him in mind. I wish to give him to Lady
Joanna as a wedding gift. The Jockey Club won’t register her as
owner, but she would know he was hers alone.”

Her brother stared in silence. David began
to sweat, wondering what the problem was at this late stage in
their negotiations. Finally, Northcotte reached for a drawer and
removed a sheet of paper. He scribbled madly, then slid the paper
to David.

David read the sheet. He reached for the
pen. “Agreed. I’ll have the funds sent to you. But let’s not tell
Lady Joanna about it just yet. I would prefer to surprise her on
our wedding day.” He signed the bill of sale transferring ownership
of Patriot to David at a price only slightly higher than he might
have bargained for. It was a small price to pay for Lady Joanna’s
happiness.

They shook hands, and Northcotte agreed not
to discuss their conversation with his sister. As David left the
study, he was surprised that Lady Joanna was nowhere in sight.

A servant swept up pieces of broken
porcelain opposite the study door. As David walked toward the
entry, Starley appeared. David said, “I wish to speak with Lady
Joanna before I take my leave.”

“She is not at home.” Starley held out
David’s hat and gloves.

David hesitated in confusion, then took his
items and went out on the street. The urchin he’d spoken to still
stood with his horses, he was relieved to see. Shadows stretched
onto the street, telling him just how long he’d been with
Northcotte. David tossed the boy a coin.

He didn’t understand where Lady Joanna had
gone. He’d assumed she would wait for him, as eager as she was to
know what Northcotte said. She hadn’t mentioned having another
engagement, and he couldn’t imagine anything more important than
their betrothal.

He drove to the mews to stable his horses,
then walked the block to his home. He needed to send a letter to
Knightwick advising him he’d agreed to purchase Patriot and would
explain when he saw his brother. Then he’d send a note to Lady
Joanna saying he’d call on her in the morning.

Chapter Eighteen

Joanna lay on the chaise in Aunt Ophelia’s
morning room, cradling her foot while tears poured down her cheeks.
Her toes felt broken, but she was reasonably certain they were not.
Her heart was another matter.

Mr. Lumley hadn’t cared for her one iota.
He’d merely been looking for another way to seek revenge against
her family name.
Win at all costs
must be the Bridgethorpe
motto. To think she came close to marrying a man who thought her
brother was capable of murder. Believed her father would harm a
horse, no matter who it belonged to.

She’d suddenly lost all desire to marry and
have a family. Aunt Ophelia would allow her to stay indefinitely in
Bath, regardless what Robert said on the matter. Her aunt had
guests at this late hour, but as soon as the visitor left, Joanna
would speak to her. If she could speak around the painful lump
threatening to block all air as she tried to breathe.

He must have befriended her with the
intention of hurting her brother. With no regard to how much he
might hurt her in the process. Not only was she facing the loss of
what she thought was the love of her life, she could no longer
consider Lady Hannah and Trey as friends.

They had nothing to do with their brother’s
scheme, but she couldn’t see them and not think of Mr. Lumley. Lady
Hannah was such a dear friend, too, one of the few she’d met who
shared her love for horses.

She drew in a shaky breath and blotted her
handkerchief beneath her eyes again. She could cry later, when she
went to bed. For now, she must be strong and tell her aunt what had
befallen her. When she placed her feet on the floor, the toes on
her right foot ached. She took off her slipper and rubbed them
though her stocking. Who would imagine a porcelain vase would cause
so much pain? She hadn’t meant to kick it when she ran away from
what she heard beyond the closed doors of Robert’s study. She’d
just wanted to escape.

Escape the reach of their voices. Escape the
hateful words they flung at each other. Pain stabbed in her chest
when she remembered their accusations. Her father a killer? It
couldn’t be. He loved his horses more than he did any of his
family. He lived for those horses. He would never do anything to
cause any animal injury or illness.

Bridgethorpe must be mad to have accused her
father, to suggest he was responsible for Zephyr’s death.
Bridgethorpe had instilled in his sons his hatred for her father
and now they carried on that vile disease.

How could he have pretended to love her?
He’d kissed her…he probably had much practice kissing ladies and
making them swoon. She had been naïve enough to believe there was
emotion behind the tender touch of his lips. That emotion had
probably been nothing more than restrained laughter at her
innocence.

She’d believed what she’d seen in his
eyes.

But no more. Never again would she trust a
man. Any man.

With new resolve, she slipped her tender
toes into her shoe and went to see if her aunt was free. The
drawing room doors were still closed. As she reached for the latch,
she heard voices inside.

A man said, “You will want for nothing, I’ll
see to it.”

Aunt Ophelia’s reply was too quiet for
Joanna to understand. It must be Sir Jasper with her, and it
sounded as if he’d proposed. How wonderful for her aunt. At least
she was successful in love.

The man spoke again. “I am a skilled lover.
My demimondes are always grateful for my attentions.”

Joanna shuddered and stepped back from the
door. She should not be listening to such an intimate exchange.
Especially since his words didn’t ring of love, or the passion
lovers shared. They felt dirty. Degrading.

The man continued to sing his own praises.
“As my mistress, you will be the envy of so many women. I’ve a box
at the King’s Theatre and you may attend every night as you wish.
I’ll escort you to any ball, or you may hold parties of your own in
Westbourne House. And of course, I’ll see to it you are outfitted
in the latest fashion.”

Westbourne
.

He was not proposing, he wanted Aunt Ophelia
as his latest demimonde. Joanna shuddered again and began to return
to the morning room.

Aunt Ophelia’s voice stopped her. “You can
offer me nothing that would entice me into your bed. I’ve refused
your offers each time you made them. Why did you bother to come
here today? My answer is unchanged. I’ll never be your mistress,
your lover, or any other position you might offer.”