Page 25 of The Dandy Lyon

He clutched at her hand, certain she was about to swoon. “My God, what is it?”

“That voice.” She grasped his arm in a death grip, her face a study in fear. “It’s Geoffrey.”

Not a man who felt fear often—his exploits as a mere lad in the dangerous underworld of London had all but leeched the emotion out of him—Marcus nevertheless experienced a rare trickle of dread slip down his spine. He’d known they must pay the piper for the tune they’d been dancing to these past days, but he’d hoped the bill wouldn’t have come due quite so soon. Lord Braedon must have posted his letter to Longford by special courier for it to have arrived in Middlesex and afforded Lord Longford the time to travel north so expediently. Marcus cocked his head, a sense of bafflement replacing his fear. Even with swift horses changed every three hours, such a journey in this short a period of time was all but impossible.

“How can he be here, Marcus?” she whispered, drawing closer to him.

“I was just wondering that myself.” He shrugged. “However, the fact is he is here and we must explain my presence as best we can and hope his anger can be mitigated somehow.” At the very least Marcus would make certain her brother’s ire was aimed directly at him, not at Joanna. Even though she’d been complicit in his scheme to court her, his had been the initial transgression and Marcus would take whatever steps necessary to assume all the blame for this debacle. “Let us go in and face the consequences.”

He took her hand and raised it to his lips. The silky-smooth skin against his mouth was another little piece of heaven he could cherish in the days to come when they would most assuredly be kept apart. “Always remember that I love you, my lady. No matter what may happen, let that be your constant.” And before she could respond, he slipped her hand through his arm and opened the door.

The two gentlemen whose argument they interrupted seemed ready to come to blows. Lord Longford stood with back straight, his chin in the air, speaking loudly at Lord Braeton who was valiantly trying to get a word in and failing utterly. “I simply cannot fathom, Thomas, how you could have had such an egregious lapse in judgment as to continue to house the ruffian who damn near threw me out of Longford House and every other property I own. I thought I told you what Dandridge did and if I didn’t, you know the man’s reputation yourself. He’s a rogue and a sharp dealer, the absolute opposite of a gentleman who should be associating with Joanna.”

Braeton’s head swiveled toward the door, drawing Longford’s attention there as well. He took one look at them, glared at Marcus, then reached over and plucked Joanna’s hand from Marcus’s arm and dragged her to him. “I trust your command of the King’s English is such that you understand for once and for all, Dandridge, that you are to leave Lady Joanna alone.” The last word came out a bellow. “If you continue to insist on ignoring my words, sir, I will have no choice except to challenge you to a duel.”

“No, Geoffrey!” Joanna grabbed his arm as if to keep him from tossing down a gauntlet there and then. “You must stop this nonsense right now.”

He wheeled around to face her, his frown monstrous. “This is no one’s fault but your own, Joanna. Had you informed Thomas of my decree that you were not to associate with Dandridge, all of this could have been avoided. You knew what he tried to do, to you, to the earldom, and still you have consorted with this common criminal.”

Joanna drew herself up, straightened her shoulders, and stared her brother down. “He is not a common criminal any more than you are, Geoffrey. You have not bothered to learn anything about Mr. Dandridge, save some unsavory gossip that might not be true.”

“I do know for certain that he tried to extort me to make me agree to allow you to marry him. He threatened to take our home, Joanna. Almost all my properties in order to get his hands on you.” He peered into her face, incredulous. “Do you not understand what that would have meant? That you would have married this…this charlatan who would have subjected you to God knows what kind of life in his gaming hells. Is that what you want, Joanna?” He peered at her, his face wracked with sorrow. “To be cut off from your family for the rest of your life? For that is what such a mesalliance would mean. You would be dead to the rest of your family. You would not be received in any decent household, including mine. Is that what you want?”

Stricken, Joanna stared at her brother before shifting her gaze to Marcus. The pain of the battle raging in her face, and certainly in her mind, was devastating. But Marcus would never know what her answer would have been. He would not force her to make that choice between her family and him. Family was the most important thing in the world, as he knew oh so well. No matter that he yearned to make her part of his family, he’d never force her to sacrifice the one for the other. “I can assure you, Lord Longford, it is not what I want.”

Longford’s face whipped around toward him with the speed of a striking snake. “What did you say, sir?”

“That I will not, under any circumstances, do anything that might estrange Lady Joanna from you and the rest of your family.” Marcus avoided meeting Joanna’s eyes, else he might not be able to continue speaking. “If you cannot give your blessing to our courtship, then I withdraw my offer for her hand for once and for all.”

“Marcus, no.” Joanna’s hand went to her throat, her eyes filling with tears.

“Marcus?” Longford whipped back around to stare at his sister. “You dare to call him by his first name?” The man’s outrage seemed to possess him like a demon. “What liberties has he taken with you that you see fit to address him so familiarly?”

“None, my lord.” Marcus spoke up quickly before Joanna could say something that would bring ruin down on both of them. “She has never addressed me so until now. And I certainly have not taken the liberty of speaking to her as anything but Lady Joanna.” Save in his own heart and soul. “I can only think the stress of this moment has called it forth.” He stared sternly at Joanna, willing her to agree to this little falsehood. “I am certain it will not happen again.”

“I will make sure of it by asking Lord Braeton to turn you out of this house immediately.” Lord Longford glared at his friend long and hard. “It is the least he can do to make amends for allowing you to associate with my sister without my knowledge or consent.”

“Geoffrey, please!” Joanna plucked at her brother’s arm, insistent. “Nothing has happened between Mr. Dandridge and myself, save spending time in one another’s company. He has done nothing untoward or unseemly.” Despite her sincere tone, a hint of a blush appeared on her cheeks. “Do not compel him to leave, I beg of you.”

Longford paid her no mind but merely stared at his friend. “Braeton? Will you prove your friendship with me after having betrayed it so abominably?”

Braeton, unexpectedly, looked uncomfortable as he turned to Marcus. After a glance at Joanna’s stricken face, he raised his chin and met Marcus’s eyes evenly. “Mr. Dandridge, I fear must request your absence from the remainder of the shooting party. Will you leave immediately sir? I will make your excuses to Lady Braeton and the rest of the party.”

Drawing himself up and assuming his most formal air, Marcus bowed to his host. “I thank you, my lord for your many kindnesses to me. I will instruct my valet accordingly and be on my way as quickly as is possible.”

A sob from Joanna made him clench his teeth momentarily, but he managed to continue on as though unaffected, when in truth, his heart was lying in pieces. “Please give my good wishes to Lady Braeton for her health and happiness. And assure her that my patronage of the orphanage will continue as long as she is amenable to it.” Taking a deep breath and fixing a pleasant smile on his lips, Marcus nodded to his host. “Farewell, my lord.”

He turned to Lord Longford, whose mouth had puckered as though he’d eaten a crate of lemons and gave a slight nod. “My lord.”

Steeling himself, Marcus met Joanna’s reddened eyes. “Farewell, my lady. I fear we will not meet again, but I wish for you every happiness in your life to come.” He bowed deeply, forcing himself to ignore her stricken look, and as he rose, met her beautiful blue eyes for what might be the last time in his life. Gazing into the pristine pools, he allowed himself to linger just long enough that whenever he wished to torture himself with what his life might have been, he could bring her face to mind instantly—the exact hue of her eyes, the creamy blush of her cheeks, the tender curve of her rosy lips—her beauty captured in his heart for all eternity.

Then he swung toward the door and marched briskly out, leaving behind him his one hope of heaven here on earth. His only hope of any kind of heaven, really. The checkered past he’d lived assured him of an afterlife far from the famed pearly gates and perhaps it was fitting that he had not, in the end, won Joanna by foul means. She deserved life with a better man than him and he certainly did not deserve her. So the Fates had merely tantalized him with a glimpse of what might have been before relegating him to the harsh reality that was his lot.

As he climbed the stairs, he hoped those three witches enjoyed their joke at his expense. He for one would not be laughing about anything for some time to come.

Chapter Twelve

London