Page 17 of The Dandy Lyon

“I see.” Thomas’s stubborn look was back. “And you offered your services as instructor to Lady Joanna for what reason, Dandridge? This is not something most well-bred young women are taught.”

“The lady expressed her dismay at women not being able to join a shoot.” Mr. Dandridge shrugged. “Our conversation then turned to what it would require for her to be able to do so, and I offered to teach her to shoot—first with a pistol, of course. If the lady proves proficient with that weapon, we could continue with a scattergun, if she desired it.”

“Well, I think it’s preposterous.” Thomas tossed his napkin down. “Ladies do not need to know how to shoot.”

“I’m not certain I agree with that, my lord.” Mr. Dandridge shook his head. “A lady may not always have a gentleman to defend her. Wouldn’t you agree that it would be prudent for her to be able to defend herself?”

“Huh.” Thomas grumbled. “As Lady Joanna just pointed out, a lady is never without a companion.”

“In usual circumstances, I grant you that is true.” Mr. Dandridge was watching Thomas like a hawk. “But what about unusual circumstances? What if there came a time when a lady was alone at home and the need arose for her to have to guard her own virtue? Would it not be prudent for her to have the means to protect herself and others?”

“That truly should not be necessary, Dandridge. Even in a house without a man present, there are always servants—butler, footmen, hall boys—who could come to her aid.”

“And if she were caught unawares in a carriage or on horseback? With only one coachman or groom?” Mr. Dandridge looked at Thomas askance. “I’d want to know that she could at least assist in her own rescue if it came to that. Which is why I taught both my sisters to fire a gun when I had to leave them at the estate in Essex. They have servants aplenty, but I wanted to know that they could protect themselves as well as my mother, if need be.”

“Indeed, Mr. Dandridge.” Joanna sat up, suddenly even keener to have him instruct her. “So you have proven a proficient teacher then?”

“To my knowledge, my lady, there has been no need for my sisters to demonstrate their skill with a pistol. However,” he crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I rest easier in London knowing they can act if the need arises.”

“There you have it, Thomas.” Joanna lifted her chin triumphantly. “Mr. Dandridge makes several excellent points about why I should learn this skill.” Well, one also got more flies with honey. “And of course the instruction would be carried out under your and Honoria’s chaperonage. What could be safer than you keeping your eyes on me the entire time?”

Thomas jerked his head up, peering toward the makeshift kitchen tent, but Honoria was nowhere to be seen. The debacle of the dessert seemed to be taking up her whole attention. “I will need to confer with my wife about this, Dandridge. To make sure she can spare the time.”

“But if she can’t, your presence alone should still act as enough of a chaperone, Thomas.” Joanna couldn’t help invoking her best wheedling tone. “Please?”

Shaking his head, Thomas sighed and rose. “We should be getting back to the fields, Dandridge. We don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

“Of course not, my lord.” Rising as well, Mr. Dandridge addressed himself to her and bowed. “It was delightful to have your company during the breakfast, Lady Joanna. I will look forward to telling you about the afternoon’s shooting after dinner tonight.”

“I will look forward to that as well, sir.” She turned her attention to Thomas before he could get away. “And to our lesson tomorrow.”

Thomas gave her a withering look, but said only, “We shall see.” He then stalked off, Mr. Dandridge following along behind, finally catching him up as they strode toward the far field.

Joanna slumped into her chair, happy to have at least proposed tomorrow’s activity to Thomas, although not at all sanguine about it coming to fruition. Still, she believed she and Mr. Dandridge had gotten Thomas to thinking about the benefits of the lessons. And if she had to put her foot down, she’d absolutely do so. Mr. Dandridge was proving the most interesting gentleman she’d ever met. Therefore, she refused to allow her brother or his friend to keep her from furthering his fascinating acquaintance. No matter what it might take to do so.

Chapter Eight

Joanna was all atwitter during dinner, a meal spent gazing vapidly at Lord Wisbech, wondering if she could persuade Thomas to relent with his custom of seating everyone according to precedent for the rest of the party so she could perhaps enjoy dinner with a more interesting partner—like Mr. Dandridge. She’d not seen him since the gentlemen returned from shooting that afternoon and Honoria had kept her engaged in conversation before they went in to dinner, so she’d not had a chance to ask Mr. Dandridge how he’d fared in the afternoon’s shooting. She’d wager every penny in her purse he’d done exceedingly well. The man simply exuded confidence.

Thomas had remained aloof in the brief moments they’d spoken before Honoria had monopolized her attention. Had that been on purpose to keep Joanna from asking about the shooting lesson tomorrow? Well, if so, it would only last as long as it took the gentlemen to dispense with their brandy. As soon as they joined the ladies, Joanna meant to corner Thomas and demand his answer. And if she didn’t like it, she’d devil him until he changed his mind. Never had she been so excited about an activity she normally found dreary and boring to tears.

The courses ground on and on. Joanna scarcely knew what food she put in her mouth. All she could do was count the interminable minutes until Honoria would rise and release them. Of course, it might be another half an hour before her curiosity would be satisfied, but better talking to someone like Miss Bevins, who at least had a brain in her head, rather than Lord Wisbech who could speak of nothing save his cattle and his numbers today.

“Lucky shot, that. Have to admit I’d never have believed one of those birds would dodge into another one just as I shot. Bagged two with one ball.” He grinned at her, looking like nothing so much as the village idiot. “Luckiest shot I ever took, Lady Joanna.”

“Not so lucky for the birds though.” Joanna tried to keep her voice low so Lord Wisbech couldn’t hear her, but he twisted his head toward her sharply.

“I doubt anyone at the table would care for the sensibilities of the birds, my lady.”

“Perhaps they should.” Joanna was treading on thin ice and knew it. Shooting was all but sacred to her friend and the Glorious Twelfth was considered the next thing to a religious holiday here in Scotland.

“What an odd thing to say, my lady.” Lord Wisbech frowned at her, staring as though he’d discovered some new species of insect he was deciding whether to stick a pin in or step on. “The only thing shooters are mindful of are their numbers, as well they should be. They have to keep the numbers up so as not to embarrass the host.”

“Were you able to acquit yourself well, then my lord?” Not that Joanna was interested in how many birds the man had shot, but anything to relieve the silence would be welcome.

“That I was, my lady.” The viscount beamed so wide, his mouth was in danger of splitting at the corners. “In total, I shot right around twenty-five, I think.” His lordship was obviously pleased with himself. His face was flushed, his eyes bright as he continued to talk about all the unsuspecting birds he’d murdered without a second thought. “My personal best is just thirty. Grand shoot that was, in Hampshire two, no three years ago.” Lord Wisbech continued to smile and stare pointedly toward her. “This one, however, is turning out to be every bit as enchanting.”

Oh, good grief. Lord Wisbech was the last man whose suit she wanted to encourage. She must do something quickly to discourage him. “I fear I dislike these shooting parties, even though I have attended them all my life.” She sighed as though her heart was as heavy as stone. “My brother is best friends with Lord Braeton, you know of course, so we have come to the lodge for him to shoot ever since I can remember. Perhaps that is why I abhor it so much.” Joanna pulled a long face. “I was telling Lady Braeton just before the party arrived that this might be my last sojourn to Scotland for the shooting as I am determined to marry a man who does not enjoy such blood sports.”