Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance (10 page)

It seemed likely nobody would ask her so she was inclined to tell Lord Mordern himself before he took the unfortunate step of making an offer. To do so, unfortunately, she would have to be private with him and, if there was one thing Johanna was particularly careful of, it was ensuring that she was
never
alone with the man.

Now, conscious that he was regarding her with those cool blue eyes, she kept her smile firmly in place and tried to work out how she might be able to keep Marcus Hathaway around for a little longer. If she did not do something he would ride off, never to be seen again and that, she could not help but think, would be a dreadful pity. An enigma deserved to be solved and she was desperately keen for a distraction, preferably of the male variety. Her eyes rested on his clothing, of good quality but clearly a little worse for wear.

Perhaps he needs money
, she thought hopefully.
If I were to offer to…to hire him for several days, he could act as a buffer between myself and Lord Mordern
. For that was what she needed; a nice, safe buffer between herself and the siblings that had been making her increasingly uncomfortable as the week had progressed.

‘Papa,’ she said, capturing her father’s attention. ‘I am sure you have made the introductions?’

Her father clucked his tongue. ‘Well I have been trying to, my dear, certainly.’

Johanna smiled across the table at her grandmother. ‘I suppose some people have been usurping the conversation again?’

Grandma chuckled, entirely unrepentant. ‘I don’t get out as much as I once did, child. A new face is welcome.’

‘Well, Mr. Hathaway -’

‘That would be Lord Hathaway, my dear,’ her father interposed.

Johanna looked at her rescuer quickly and met his ironic blue eyes. He was a
lord
? Well looks could certainly be deceiving but it was all to the good. A lord positively reeked of respectability. Papa would have no hesitation of asking a
lord
to stay. ‘Lord Hathaway,’ she repeated, inclining her head demurely.

‘Miss Claybourn,’ he returned, with a twitch of the lips. ‘I do hope this won’t change anything between us.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course not. I am just as grateful to be recued by a lord, I can assure you. I don’t discriminate.’

‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he replied amiably.

‘Do let me introduce you to our other guests, Lord Hathaway. This is Mrs. Esk, our closest neighbor, her son Mr. James Esk and her daughter, Miss Pricilla Esk,’ Johanna said, moving around the table. ‘And then we have Lord Mordern and his sister, Mrs. Gordon.’

Mordern inclined his head and, while his expression remained perfectly pleasant there was a speculative look in those cold eyes. Mrs. Gordon, who seemed to find anybody wearing breeches worth flirting with, looked at him in an entirely different way. Her expression was warmly appreciative and the look she gave Lord Hathaway suggested a great deal more than idle curiosity.

Johanna knew she could depend on Celine Gordon to ask questions. The woman’s curiosity was insatiable and sure enough, she was not disappointed because Mrs. Gordon launched her first offensive almost immediately. She tilted her head and fluttered her lashes in a manner that Johanna was becoming very familiar with.

‘Well, Lord Hathaway, what brings you to these parts?’

He shrugged, expression bland. ‘Nothing of any great moment. I am enjoying a sojourn on the road.’

‘Oh? And where are you going?’

‘I thought I would go as far as the coast and then make my way along it, possibly up to Northumberland.’

‘Indeed?’ The woman gave him an encouraging smile. ‘Do you have family in Northumberland, my lord?’

‘No,’ his lordship replied easily.

‘So you are merely going to Northumberland to…?’

‘See the place, yes. I have heard it’s quite charming.’

The idea that anybody could find Northumberland charming was not one that appeared to be shared by the company in general.

‘I’ve been there,’ Sir Antony said dubiously. ‘It was perfectly pleasant, I suppose. A great many cows, I seem to recall.’

‘What do you intend to do after you have been to Northumberland, my lord?’ Pricilla inquired, eyeing him as one might a particularly tempting piece of cake. She was a plump girl who appreciated anything sweet. Clearly, Hathaway was to her liking.

He gave her a smile. ‘Move on, I daresay.’

It was, Johanna reflected, rather satisfactory to have the man return vague answers to other people’s inquiries. It was like trying to catch hold of smoke. He did it in such a charming way, however, that it was hard to be annoyed.

‘You were engaged in England’s war effort in France, perhaps?’ Lord Mordern murmured. He had settled back in his chair comfortably. Johanna thought he appeared a great deal
too
comfortable, actually, as if he had already sized up the place and was ready to claim a part of it. His easy posture set her teeth on edge.

Lord Hathaway looked at him for a moment before nodding. ‘I was.’

‘You were wounded?’

His lordship’s smile remained in place but Johanna had the distinct impression he would have liked this line of questioning to stop for, while he appeared just as relaxed, she could sense a sudden underlying tension. ‘Not severely. Did you notice my limp, then? I had hoped it was becoming less obvious.’

‘It certainly isn’t severe.’

‘Ah. Excellent.’ That was all he said but there seemed to be some finality to it. Johanna was prepared to wager
that
that
particular subject had come to an end. ‘Do you come from Yorkshire, Lord Mordern?’ he asked, deflecting the conversation back to the man.

‘No, merely visiting friends in the area.’

‘Lord Mordern and Mrs. Gordon were kind enough to consent to stay with us for a time,’ Sir Antony said genially, giving Mrs. Gordon a soulful look. ‘We consider ourselves very fortunate that they could spare the time.’

Johanna gave an inward roll of the eyes. She wasn’t at all sure what the pair’s financial situation was – they certainly dressed with expensive elegance – but there had to be some reason they were prepared to linger in these unfashionable climes and she doubted it was because of any generosity of spirit. Mordern was keen on securing a wealthy bride, which meant that he was probably destitute and looking for a wife to bankroll him. She wasn’t
too
worried; her father had always been a fair man and if she told him that she would not marry the man he would undoubtedly accede to her wishes. He always did, bless him.

Her eyes traveled back to Lord Hathaway, a far more appealing prospect in every way. He was unlike any other man she had ever met  and, the more she learned of him, the more she wished to learn. She glanced towards the long windows overlooking the terrace beyond and saw a benevolent blue sky with only a few fat clouds sailing across it.
Why is there never a convenient storm when one wants one
? she mused. Foul weather might have kept him overnight, at the very least. Failing that, what was left to her but bribery or… Johanna pursed her lips and glanced at the man once more. There might be a way, if she were convincing enough. It would mean lying, of course and that was something she tried not to indulge in unless it was absolutely necessary, for lying was a sin and she was far too good at it to be entirely comfortable with herself.

But, still…

With a mental shrug she accepted that, just this once, it might be necessary to imperil her soul for a greater good. Well, she amended,
her
greater good, anyway. Besides, the story she intended to tell his lordship was not entirely untrue. And an element of truth was better than none at all, surely? Johanna settled back down in her chair, thoughts busy while she absently made conversation with James Esk. There was no guarantee of success, of course, but she thought she had Marcus Hathaway’s measure. He was a gentleman, he had already proved as much.

Perhaps, once more, he would consent to behave like a gentleman and rescue her once again.

The Esks, en masse, were about to take their departure when the door opened and Harmon announced in sonorous tones, ‘Mr. Hugo Ballantine.’

Johanna looked around quickly and saw Hugo hurrying into the room. Her heart sank and she rose to her feet. How very tiresome the man was! She had hoped that he would not put in an appearance today, for his behavior had hardly been heroic and surely he would wish to take time to nurse his wounded pride and anything else that had been damaged by his willful mount. He appeared to have survived the journey back home, however. His gaze traveled the room rather wildly until they settled upon her and Johanna braced herself.

‘Miss Claybourn! Thank
heavens
.’

She thought of all the words that she had promised her father not to use but there was no point in inflaming the situation even more. But of all the idiotic… Hurrying forward in the hope of preempting him, she spoke in a breathless rush.

‘Hello Hugo! How unexpected to see you.’ She tried to infuse as much meaning in the words and the expression on her face but she knew there was no point. Hugo was entirely dense and would not pick up on any cues, even if they were thrust in his face.

‘But I had to come,’ he almost gasped the words, his hands reaching to take her own. ‘After such a dreadful experience -’

‘What experience is that?’ her father demanded, also rising to his feet.

‘Oh, nothing Papa!’ Johanna said quickly. ‘I met Hugo in the woods as well. Unfortunately his horse took fright when Bella did and he could not hold him. Isn’t that right Hugo?’ She glared at him, daring him to contradict her. ‘Naturally I am glad to see you are unhurt.’

He blinked several times as her words penetrated. ‘Uh… well, yes but…’

‘As you can see, she arrived home safe and sound,’ Lord Hathaway’s cool voice spoke, even and calm.

Hugo looked at him. It took a moment before recognition clicked and then a slow flush mounted his cheeks. ‘And just who are
you
, Sir?’

‘Hathaway is the name,’ his lordship said, smiling a little. ‘And you must be Mr. Ballantine. Miss Claybourn mentioned you on the journey back to Cloverton Hall.’

This comment seemed to disconcert the young man. ‘She… she did?’

‘Indeed,’ Hathaway agreed blandly. ‘She was commenting on your choice of horseflesh.’

‘Which everybody knows is well above his weight.’ At this point, Mr. Esk decided to contribute to the conversation. ‘What’s the matter, Ballantine? That brute get away from you again?’

Suddenly, it seemed to dawn on Hugo that he had burst in upon a social occasion. For the first time he took in the other guests. Clearly he was far from thrilled to see that Mr. James Esk was present. ‘At least,’ he spluttered, ‘my mounts aren’t sway-backed nags!’

Mr. Esk bristled at the implication. ‘At least I spend more time in the saddle than on the ground!’

‘Now, James!’ his mother admonished him, clicking her tongue. ‘That is quite enough of that, if you please. Remember your manners dear!’

James flushed but his chin retained a stubborn, militant tilt that suggested he was in no way sorry for the comment. Johanna, glancing between the two young men, thought that there wasn’t much to choose from between them. Both appeared as gawky, excitable adolescents. In the normal course of things they should have been friends – indeed, until they had developed an interest in females they had been – but ever since attaining what passed for their manhood they had been behaving like combatants, along with every other young man of her acquaintance. It was all extremely vexing. It also had the unfortunate effect of making her admirers seem very young because, beside men like Marcus Hathaway they appeared no more than boys.

‘I am sorry for intruding,’ Hugo said now, stiff with embarrassed dignity. ‘I merely wished to ascertain that Miss Claybourn was unhurt.’ He glanced at her, his face earnest. ‘I hurried over as soon as I could. Are you really alright Johanna?’