Whisper of Scandal (5 page)

“A pity,” Alex said. “I have seldom had so little physical pleasure from an affair.”

“Well, if you would rather be in the Haymarket than
Curzon Street, pray do not let us detain you,” Joanna snapped. Really, this man was beyond provocative.

Lottie gave an agonized squawk at the thought that her guest of honor might turn on his heel and leave. “No, indeed, Lord Grant will find my rout a great deal more fun than a bordello. I guarantee it!”

Joanna caught Merryn’s eye. Merryn giggled.

“May I introduce my cousin Mr. James Devlin,” Alex said, drawing forward the tall young man. “He is a great admirer of yours, Lady Joanna.”

Introductions were exchanged. James Devlin bowed to Joanna and then to Merryn. He looked suitably dazzled, though Joanna suspected he had practiced that look quite a bit on impressionable debutantes. Merryn, she was happy to see, remained composed and seemed unimpressed, though a tiny telltale blush suggested that her sister was not indifferent to Mr. Devlin’s admiration. Joanna felt a huge rush of relief and pleasure, followed by an equally strong pang of anxiety. She knew that she was protective of Merryn—as the eldest of three girls she had mothered the others, a state of affairs that had been almost inevitable given her parents’ indifference to their offspring. She did hope that now Merryn had emerged from their uncle’s sickroom she might have the chance to form an attachment to a nice young man. But could James Devlin be described as nice? Probably not… He looked far too dangerous to be let loose on innocent young ladies.

Alex, meanwhile, was being extremely courteous to Lottie, thanking her for hosting such an elegant event. Despite her dislike of him, Joanna was intrigued to see how easily, how seductively, he could charm.

“You do me too much honor, Mrs. Cummings,” he said.

“I told her the same,” Joanna said sweetly. “As you hate being lionized for your fame, my lord, I am sure you must detest all this fuss.”

James Devlin smothered a laugh. “Lady Joanna has you there, Alex.”

“I am sure that I can cope with it,” Alex drawled, “since Lady Joanna is here to ensure that I do not become too conceited.”

“Oh, but your reluctance simply makes you more desirable, Lord Grant,” Lottie gushed. “Every lady here would
love
to melt that icy aloofness of yours and set your world alight!”

Joanna stifled an unladylike snort of laughter. “Pray speak only for yourself, Lottie,” she said. “I have no desire to start a conflagration, though your ice sculptures may prove useful in putting out the blaze.”

“Ice sculptures?” Alex said, slanting a look down at her.

“Yes, indeed,” Joanna said. “If you have not already seen them, my lord, I suggest that you look at once. You will particularly admire the rendition of yourself laying waste the unresisting acres of the Arctic and planting your flag in truly phallic fashion!”

Lottie glared at her and stroked her fan suggestively down the sleeve of Alex’s immaculate evening coat. “Perhaps you may settle a small matter for me, my lord?” she purred. “Is it true that you wrestled a polar bear and have the scars to prove it? Joanna absolutely refuses to tell me!”

“Because I have no notion,” Joanna said, “and less interest.”

Alex gave her another quizzical look. It brought the blood burning hotly into her face, which was exceptionally annoying since the last time she had blushed had probably been when she was about twelve years old.

“You disappoint me, Lady Joanna,” he said.

“I am aware of that,” Joanna said. “You have made your disapproval of me quite plain.”

“Oh, please,” Lottie fluttered, “do show us. Are they as impressive as Lord Nelson’s wounds were? I hear that he, too, encountered a bear in the Arctic wastes.”

“Madam—” Alex flicked Lottie’s fan firmly away as the feathers tickled his wrist “—I fear I would need to know you a great deal more intimately before I strip off in your ballroom, or indeed any other room.”

He turned to Joanna and offered his hand. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Joanna? I seldom dance, but I imagine I might manage the cotillion.”

“Flattered as I am that you are prepared to try for me,” Joanna said, smiling demurely, “I fear we cannot dance if you wish to join me in discouraging rumors of our
affaire,
my lord. Alas, my card is full anyway.”

“Then discard it and start afresh,” Alex said. “I wish to speak with you.”

“Don’t you ever say please, my lord?” Joanna asked, stung by his high-handedness. “It may be that I would have a greater desire to converse with
you
if you exercised a little courtesy.”

Something wicked kindled in Alex’s eyes, making Joanna catch her breath. “If you please,” Alex murmured. “You see, Lady Joanna, that sometimes I will beg—if there is something I want enough.”

Their gazes locked for a long moment. A smile crept into Alex’s eyes. Joanna felt as though the ground was
shifting slightly under her feet. But she was getting the measure of this man now and his ability to discomfit her. She allowed a cool little smile to tilt her lips in return.

“Unlike you, my lord,” she said, turning to James Devlin, “your cousin had the foresight to send me a note this afternoon requesting the first dance with me.” She got to her feet and offered her hand to James. “Mr. Devlin, I should be delighted. That is—” she hesitated “—if you will be happy sitting out on your own, Merryn?”

“I shall go and chat to Miss Drayton,” her sister said. “Don’t worry about me.”

The look of chagrin on Alex’s face as he realized that he had been outwitted was rewarding, Joanna thought. Dev shot him a look that was half rueful, half triumphant. “You are always impressing on me that planning is half the battle, Alex,” he said. “Those are your own tactics.”

“Outmaneuvered, my lord!” Lottie declared. “You will have to dance with me instead. Mr. Cummings will be delighted—once he has opened the ball with me he never dances again but retires to his study to look at those tiresome piles of money.” She stood up and held out a hand imperiously to Alex and after a moment he took it. Joanna’s stomach gave a little lurch. Lottie, it seemed, was indeed intent on seduction, for she was already sliding her hand through Alex’s arm in a most intimate way and looking up at him with a predatory, catlike gleam in her eyes. And really, Joanna thought, it was contrary of her to be cross when not only was she
not
Alex’s mistress but she had practically
told
Lottie to seduce him anyway.

The eager press of guests in Lottie’s reception rooms fell back a little to allow them through the archway into the ballroom. All about her, Joanna was aware of the feverish whisper and hiss of conversation, the sycophantic smiles of the ladies as they fluttered to attract Alex’s attention, the hearty greetings of the men, the whole of society angling for his attention and notice.

“I say, ma’am,” Devlin said, walking beside her, “is this not extraordinary? Who would have thought that Alex, of all people, would be so in demand! It is like escorting royalty!”

“I think Lord Grant is probably more popular than the Prince Regent,” Joanna said dryly. “Society is very fickle, Mr. Devlin, and very bored. We are always looking for the next sensation and at the moment that is your cousin. Explorers are all the rage. No doubt this time next year the fashion will be for Chinese wallpaper or Scottish breeds of dog.”

“Alex is hardly comparable to a
dog,
ma’am,” Dev protested, though with a smile. “And he is the quarry of all the matchmaking mamas, of course.”

“Is he?” Joanna felt a strange dropping feeling in her stomach. “I had no notion that Lord Grant was seeking a bride.”

“Oh, I do not think he
wants
a wife,” Dev said candidly, “but Balvenie currently has no heir.”

“I see. Of course.” Joanna felt the cold gnawing inside her. David, too, had wanted a son. “Yes,” she said. “Most men want an heir.”

Even though she sought to keep her tone level there must have been some note in it that caught Dev’s attention for he gave her a quick, puzzled look. She smiled
at him blandly and saw his brow clear.
Oh, it was so easy to pretend…

It had taken them so long to fight their way through the crowds that the cotillion was already over and the orchestra, seeing them approach, swung into a lively rendition of Thomas Arne’s march from Britannia in Alex’s honor. Glancing at him, Joanna saw that his face was absolutely impassive. Lottie was clinging to his arm and beaming with reflected glory and the entire ballroom broke into spontaneous applause.

“It would be more appropriate,” Joanna whispered to Dev, “to have played Mr. Arne’s ‘Much Ado about Nothing.’”

Alex gave her an unreadable look and Joanna realized that he had heard her. Dev was looking from one to the other with a puzzled expression on his handsome face.

“I say, you really do not like one another very much, do you, Lady Joanna? When Alex told me that you were not really…um…intimate I thought that he was merely…um—” He broke off in confusion, sounding all at once a great deal less sophisticated than his appearance suggested.

“I fear I am prejudiced against explorers, Mr. Devlin,” Joanna said, taking pity on him, “having been married to one.”

“Oh, but surely David was the most admirable of men,” Dev said, his face lighting up. “He was a hero of mine when I was only a small boy.”

“I fear,” Joanna said, “that heroes can be uncomfortable men to live with.” She saw his look of blank astonishment and added bitterly, “It can be so hard to live up to the expectation.”

The triumphal march finished on a flourish, the applause rang out again and Alex bowed acknowledgment to the crowd before Lottie positively dragged him into the next set that was forming for a country-dance.

“I hope that Alex will forgive me cutting him out,” Dev said as he and Joanna moved through the opening figures. “I was surprised he asked you to dance, ma’am. A combination of an old wound and lack of inclination usually keeps him from the floor.”

Joanna had been surprised as well. Whilst Alex’s injured leg did not seem to hinder him unduly, she could not imagine that a half-hour country-dance would be comfortable for him. She had observed from the grim set of his mouth when Lottie had questioned him on his polar bear injuries that this was another issue he did not discuss. Like the subject of his popularity as an explorer and the death of his wife, it was not up for debate, and there was something most stern and quelling about Alex Grant when he decided a topic was not open for discussion. Joanna doubted that many people gainsaid him. He was too authoritative and too intimidating.

“Alex only accepted Mrs. Cummings’s invitation tonight as a favor to me,” Dev was saying. “He is nowhere near as unhelpful as he can seem, you know, ma’am.”

“I will take your word for it, Mr. Devlin,” Joanna said, smiling. “And as I am sure that your cousin is indifferent to whom I dance with, so you are in no imminent danger of his calling you out.”

“Well, I hope not,” Dev said. “He did warn me off you earlier, though.” He gave her a look of frank admiration. “Can’t say I blame him, ma’am.”

“Your cousin is presumptuous,” Joanna snapped. She shot a furious look at Alex across the floor. Since it
seemed extremely unlikely that David had made Alex promise to protect her in some touching deathbed scene—she was sure that the reverse must be true—she could only assume that Alex had warned his young cousin away because he thought her dangerous to Devlin’s virtue. For a moment she watched Alex dancing with Lottie. Mrs. Cummings was turning a respectable country-dance into something a great deal more tactile. She was all over Alex like ivy, Joanna thought, feeling for those polar bear scars herself. As she saw Alex pry Lottie’s fingers away from his shirtfront, she decided Lottie’s persistent attentions were the least penance that he deserved.

“In your note to me this afternoon you mentioned a favor, Mr. Devlin,” she said, turning back to Dev. “How can I help you? Though if it is anything to do with your cousin, I should warn you that I have absolutely no influence with him at all.”

“Know what you mean, ma’am,” Dev said gloomily. “Alex knows his own mind too well to welcome other counsel.”

“You mean that he is arrogant,” Joanna said.

Dev winced. “Well, that could be one word for it, I suppose. Truth is, I am in bad odor with him at the moment for abandoning my navy commission to take part in an expedition to Mexico.” He looked at her appealingly. “I wondered if you might speak with him, ma’am, and smooth matters over for me?”

“I could try,” Joanna said, “but it would only make things worse for you, Mr. Devlin. I am afraid that when it comes to incurring your cousin’s disapproval, I am streets ahead of you.”

The figure of the dance took them past the corner
where Merryn was sitting chatting to Miss Drayton. Joanna saw that Devlin was watching her sister.

“Lady Merryn does not dance?” he said when they came back together again.

“My sister prefers more intellectual pursuits,” Joanna said, smiling. Merryn was a bluestocking who was unconventional enough to make no secret of her preference for intelligent debate over dancing. It did, however, limit her circle of friends and many people in the ton, Lottie included, thought her a complete original because of her lack of interest in frivolity.

She realized that Dev was watching her with a surprisingly perceptive gaze. “A pity,” he said. “Because I am sure she would be a graceful dancer. But I admire a woman who is different.”

“If you can discuss naval architecture with her then you will win her approval,” Joanna said lightly. The music drew to a close and she and Dev joined in the smattering of applause from the dancers. “She has been attending the lectures at the Royal Institution with some of her friends.”

“Indeed?” Dev said. There was a frown between his brows. “I attended the talk last week, the one about a new design for the American frigates. I must have seen Lady Merryn at the meeting although—” he hesitated “—I thought that I had glimpsed her in quite a different place.”

“Then it seems you have an interest in common,” Joanna said, smiling. She put a hand on Dev’s arm. “A word of advice, though, Mr. Devlin. Merryn has lived in the country for most of her life and is unused to the ways of the ton. I would be sorry to see her…disappointed in any way.”