Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance (27 page)

‘To improve my mind?’ Johanna had suggested, pasting the sweet smile on her face she had tried to maintain throughout, although much of the time she had wanted to grind her teeth instead.

‘A young woman does not need to improve her mind,’ Agnes Fitzherbert had returned. ‘It is of little use to her.’

Which more or less summed up Aunt Agnes. Fortunately, her aunt had lately been afflicted with gout and could not accompany her niece about the place as she ought. She had entrusted Johanna’s chaperonage to a dithering stick of a woman named Miss Hortensia Quince who held the unfortunate position of her aunt’s companion. Miss Quince was terrified of Aunt Agnes. Indeed, she was terrified of most people and Johanna found her a much more agreeable companion for she responded well to kindness and could be organized far more easily. Johanna had already decided to remove Miss Quince back to Yorkshire when she left London, for the woman would undoubtedly flourish in her father’s household and it would be nice for Grandma to have somebody new to order about. At least she did the ordering with kindness.

Wearied by the endless round of social engagements, Johanna had not really wished to go to the Matchams’ ball but she knew that the Hathaway ladies would be there and she was determined to attach herself to Audrey or Isabella and inveigle an invitation to visit. If Marcus Hathaway would not venture forth, she would beard the lion in his den. The logistics of how that might be achieved escaped her, for the moment, but she was sure she would come up with something. It was when she was on the dance floor, being twirled about by Lord Cleghorn, that she realized her quarry had actually appeared, for she caught sight of Marcus Hathaway speaking to his mother who had been looking at the dancing couples. Johanna was so shocked that she fell out of step, momentarily causing her companion to come unstuck, as well. Instinct took over almost immediately and she apologized, but absently, her focus entirely for the man across the floor.

He was here!

A surge of triumphant anticipation went through her. She barely knew how she got through the rest of the dance. Presumably she returned sensible answers to her partner’s conversational offerings, but she had no notion of what she said. All she could anticipate was the end of the dance and what she would do the moment the music stopped.

It might have been just as well that the crowd prevented her from flinging herself headlong off the dance floor. She had tried very hard since coming to London to behave with circumspection and almost always took care with what she was saying. Her too ready tongue had caused some people to take a disapproving view of her in the past. She knew that Marcus thought she was too thoughtless and she had been trying hard to change her impulsive habit of saying whatever entered her head, although it had been a far harder feat than she had anticipated.

So while she might have moved a good deal faster than her companion had anticipated, she did not break into a trot. Her attention was all for the tall figure standing by the wall and, having thanked Lord Cleghorn, she set off towards Marcus Hathaway, determined that he would not be allowed to disappear on her.

Miss Quince intercepted her. Johanna did not immediately perceive the woman, fixated as she was, but a hand on her arm brought her attention to bear.

‘Oh, Miss Claybourn,’ the little creature said with her customary breathlessness. There was, as far as Johanna could tell, no reason to be breathless as Miss Quince had not participated in any vigorous pursuits but she often sounded as if she had been running. ‘Do come along with me, if you please. The Duchess of Henley has asked to be introduced to you.’

Johanna looked at her chaperone blankly. ‘Who?’

‘The Duchess of Henley.’ Clearly Miss Quince was quivering with pride. She was very influenced by the status of the people in Society, having skirted the edges of it for years.

‘I’m afraid she will have to wait. I have just seen somebody I must speak with.’

‘Wait?’ Miss Quince looked scandalized. ‘But she cannot wait. She is a
duchess
.’

‘Oh poo,’ Hathaway, she noticed, had begun to move. ‘I’m sure duchesses have to wait just like real people. I shall be along shortly Miss Quince.’

‘But… but what shall I say?’

‘Anything at all. That I must visit the retiring room. That I have to fix a rent in my skirts. Anything you like.’ She was already moving away, following the tall figure who was even now disappearing through the double doors leading outside. People spoke to her but she brushed them aside, smiling fixedly so as not to offend, but determined not to stop for anything. Johanna quickened her step, worried that she might lose her man in the gardens.

She might have done so, for he was just descending the steps that led down into the extensive grounds when she put on a burst of speed.

‘Lord Hathaway!’

He stopped and stood quite still. For a long moment he did not turn around. Johanna found that her heart was beating so hard it was difficult to breath. She moistened her lips, suddenly assailed by doubt. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks but what if she had gotten it wrong? Yes, he had kissed her and that kiss had certainly been as passionate as any woman could wish for. But she knew little enough of men, if the truth be told and she knew almost nothing about Marcus Hathaway. Perhaps he went about kissing a great many females. It was a demoralizing thought but she knew she would have to cross that bridge when, and if, she came to it. She was not just
any
female, as he would soon discover.

Slowly he turned to face her and she felt her knees go a little weak for he looked extraordinarily handsome in his immaculate evening wear. The light from a lantern just behind his shoulder threw his face into shadow so she could not read the expression in his eyes.

‘Miss Claybourn.’ He did not sound surprised. She tried to work out what he
did
sound, but there were too few clues. What to say? She had thought of all manner of things when he was not standing right there in front of her but the reality had left her momentarily tongue-tied.

‘I had wondered when you would put in an appearance.’

There was a small heartbeat of silence, and then, ‘Indeed? You knew I was in London?’

‘You told me you were coming for your sister’s birthday in May.’

‘Ah. So I did.’

Once again there was that small, peculiar silence between them. ‘Were you not going to call on me?’

He climbed several steps until he stood on the one just below her. Instead of answering her, he said, ‘I have heard that you are a great sensation. Did I not tell you that would be the case?’

‘You did,’ she agreed with a grimace. ‘Several times. Believe me when I say it was no great enticement.’

‘But you have been enjoying yourself?’

This close, she could finally see his face properly. She let her eyes travel over every familiar plane of it, reacquainting herself with the beloved visage. ‘It is pleasant enough. My aunt is not, incidentally. Happily she has been laid low with gout and cannot be here tonight or I would introduce you.’

His lips twitched at this. ‘I feel for her,’ he said severely.

‘I feel for me,’ she retorted. ‘For she is a perfect dragon.’ She hesitated, glancing behind her. ‘Will you walk with me in the garden?’

‘No,’ he said with some decision. ‘A gentleman does not walk unaccompanied with a young lady in the gardens, Miss Claybourn. I would have thought you’d have realized that by now.’

‘I have,’ she replied, suddenly a great deal more cheerful. This meeting might have started out awkwardly but she felt they were on the right track at last. Despite himself, he had fallen back into the easy familiarity they had shared, as she’d hoped they would. It was far harder to be all stiff and standoffish if they were sharing that old, familiar camaraderie. ‘But I have also learned that what Society does not see cannot harm one.’

‘I might have known,’ he muttered. ‘For heaven’s sake, come back inside and let my mother perform introductions. Then we can dance -’

‘I do want to dance with you,’ she agreed. ‘But before that, I wish to be alone with you, if you please.’

‘What would please me is not what must take place. I have not told my mother that we have met. I did not think…’ He paused, then blew out a breath. ‘Damn it, Johanna, I did not mean to hurt you when I left. I thought it was for the best.’

‘I know you did. And while it did hurt, I did keep you with me quite shamelessly.’ She laid a hand on his chest, needing to touch him. She felt the beat of his heart and was encouraged by the swiftness of its rhythm. ‘I know I should be sorry. Indeed, I am sorry that I lied to you and will undertake to never do so again but I cannot say I regret one moment of the time you spent at Cloverton Hall.’

‘Neither do I. I have spent a considerable amount of time trying to convince myself otherwise but it is pointless. I realized that long before I reached Northumberland.’

Almost unconsciously, his own hand had come up to cover hers. She saw him looking at her mouth and her pulses jumped in response, for she knew exactly what was going through his mind. It was going through hers, as well. She had thought he might behave with a certain amount of coolness, determined as he was to convince her that he was not the man for her. She had been expecting it and, while she had been confident of breaking it down, it would have been awkward. He did not look at all cool, however. In fact, he was beginning to look decidedly overheated.

‘And what did you think of Northumberland, Sir?’ she murmured, moving a little closer. Much closer and their bodies would be touching. So little distance between two people who were not affianced or related was reprehensible. She did not care a jot.

‘I can barely remember a thing about it.’

‘I trust Hermes is well?’

‘He’s a damn sight better than I am. Miss Claybourn, this is not a good idea,’ he said, voice a little uneven. ‘People have already begun to notice this conversation. It is not the kind of speculation you need, I can assure you.’

‘Would my reputation be ruined by such a conversation?’ she inquired, raising her other hand and laying it on his shoulder. The difference in height – he one step down – brought her almost to his chin and she liked that she was so close to his mouth. The heat of his body was a caress through the thin material of her gown, warming her in a way that the summer’s night could not do. She felt her skin prickle as awareness of the man before her shimmered along her body, a delicious whisper that promised marvels to come.

‘Not ruined, but bruised, perhaps. Come inside.’

‘In a moment. Let’s stay out here a little longer.’

Her eyes lingered on his mouth, remembering how it had taken possession of her own so completely. It was, she had to admit, an excellent mouth, well shaped, firm and sensitive. There was a great deal that she knew she must learn about this man. His time in France had left scars that lay just below the surface and would have to be healed slowly and with great tenderness. His father had committed suicide, his home had been denied him and she knew that he felt as if he had nothing to offer any woman, let alone one who came with a considerable amount of money. Since coming to London she had delicately pried the history of the Hathaways out of those who knew the whole story and Johanna had filled in some of the gaps he would never have spoken of to her. Not then, when he had not wished to deepen their acquaintance. But he would tell her everything one day. It didn’t matter how long it took for she knew something he had yet to discover.

She knew they had all the time in the world.

‘Johanna?’ He sounded shaken.

‘What if you kissed me, in front of all these people? What then?’

The hand over her own tightened sporadically. ‘Dear God! It would shake them to their foundations.’

‘I would like that very much.’

‘No.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. ‘I cannot allow you to do anything so… so…’

‘Oh Marcus, you know how I am. I doubt you could stop me. You told me you would not take an heiress,’ she reminded him softly. ‘You said that I was exactly the kind of woman you did not want.’

‘I have nothing to give you!’

‘On the contrary, you have everything to give me. You just don’t realize it yet.’ And leaning forward, she placed her lips very firmly on his own.

It was all she needed to do, she understood that now. From the moment he had approached her she knew that he had not avoided her for these long weeks because he was embarrassed by their few days in Yorkshire together. On the contrary, for once his expression told her everything that she wanted to know.