Page 27 of The Dandy Lyon

“You counted the days?” He had as well.

“Of course I did. I’ve had very little else to do since we left Scotland.” She nuzzled her face against his chest. “So I counted the days and thought of you.”

“I see we have been similarly occupied.” He kissed the top of her head. “I cannot believe you are here.” His words brought Marcus up short and he stilled, released Joanna a little until he could look into her face. “How are you here?” A thrill of hope shot through him. “Has Lord Longford—” But the thought died immediately. “Your brother doesn’t know you are here, does he?”

“No, he does not.” She sat up, a petulant look on her beautiful face. “And it has taken me a full week to sneak out of the house and come here.”

“Why are you in London? I would have thought you’d be imprisoned at Longford Manor in Middlesex.” Not that he cared why she was here. It was miracle enough that she was.

“Oh, I am in Town for the Little Season. So I can catch a husband.” Joanna grinned up at him and his heart stuttered almost to a halt. However, his horror must have shown despite his efforts to keep his face impassive, for she stroked his cheek and pressed a fleeting kiss on his stunned lips. “Not catch a real husband, Marcus. Only you.”

Utterly undone, Marcus ran a hand over his face. “Joanna, please tell me what is going on.”

“I see I am explaining it badly.” She had the good grace to look contrite.

“I fear you are, my dear. Here.” He rose, then settled her in the chair and stalked over to the sideboard. If he remained in such close proximity to her, he feared he’d do something unforgiveable—though not regrettable. “If you will forgive me, I believe I need a drink.” He tipped the decanter of brandy and poured a stiff portion into a tumbler of Waterford crystal. “I’m sorry but I have no Maderia to offer you.”

“I can have what you’re drinking.” Her brows rose hopefully.

“That you cannot.” He frowned at her. “Ladies do not take strong spirits.”

“Ladies do not often shoot pistols either, but you taught me to do that.” She leaned toward him, enticingly. “I think you should teach me how to drink brandy as well.”

He hurried back toward her and sat in the chair beside her. Even though he longed to have her soft body pressed against him once more, he must keep a clear head as much as possible until she told him what she was doing at The Dandy. “You need to keep your wits about you, my dear, and brandy is certainly not conducive to that. I believe you were going to explain exactly what kind of husband you are here to catch.”

“Well of course, I am here to catch you, Marcus.” She smiled so brightly at him, his heart pounded in his chest. “Only I could not tell that to Geoffrey.” Her bright smile turned to an angry frown. “I have not spoken to my brother since we left Scotland.”

“You haven’t?” A trickle of alarm sounded in the back of Marcus’s head.

“No.” She shook her head and the petulant purse of her lips he’d always found charming appeared. “I haven’t said a word to him since he forbade me to have any hope of marrying you.”

“He’s done that for almost a year, my dear.” Marcus bit back his smile. Lord Longford had prohibited the match from the moment he’d learned of Marcus’s intention. “You brother has been quite vocal about it at every turn.” He cocked his head, curious. “What did he say in Scotland that made you so angry?”

Tears glistened in Joanna’s eyes. “After you left the room, Geoffrey said he would never give permission for us to marry.” She glanced at him, then down at her hands, suddenly stilled in her lap. “Even when I told him that I loved you and wouldn’t marry anyone but you.”

Stunned, Marcus clutched the chair’s arm with one hand and desperately sought somewhere to set his brandy down before the glass exploded in his frenzied grip. Had he actually heard her correctly? He opened his mouth to ask her to repeat it, but no sound came out. Clearing his throat, he managed to set the tumbler on the floor before grasping both her hands. “Did you truly say that, my dear?”

She glanced at him furtively, and nodded. “I did, because it’s true.” At last she met his eyes, as if unsure how her words would be received. As if there could be reason to doubt. “Geoffrey tried to say it was rebellion or infatuation, but I know what is in my heart.” She gripped his hands. “I love you, Marcus. Not only are you a good and kind person, but you are the most honorable man I know.” She gazed deeply into his eyes and his breath stopped, engulfed in the twin pools of blue. “No other gentleman has honored my wishes, never treated me as you have. Not as a silly woman who doesn’t know her own mind, but as a woman who is capable of anything she puts her mind to. And…” she dropped her gaze once more to her lap, “I don’t believe I shall ever find another gentleman who makes me feel the way you do…inside.”

This conversation must stop now. It was all Marcus could do to keep hold of Joanna’s hands instead of seizing her in his arms and kissing her senseless. To think that she believed him admirable and honorable was more than he’d ever dared dream to have from her. He could scarcely admit to having heard her confess that she loved him. And now to find he had stirred her passions simply overwhelmed him. Marcus sat staring at her lovely face, content to stay this way with her forever.

“So I told Geoffrey if he wouldn’t agree to our marriage, I wouldn’t marry anyone until I reached my majority and then I wouldn’t need his permission to marry you.” Her mouth puckered, another tear creeping from the corner of her eye. “That’s when he said that by that time, you’d have found some other society lady to marry. That all you really wanted was to raise your social status by marrying a title.”

He cupped her chin and peered into her face, finding his footing at last. “You know that is not true, don’t you, my love?” That might be true of other men in his position, but not him. “I wish to marry you because I love you too. From the moment I first saw you, that has been the truth of it.”

“I know, but Geoffrey was so hateful, and Thomas ultimately sided with him.” She sniffed and raised her chin. “You know they had such a row that day? That’s what we interrupted. Geoffrey was devilishly angry that Thomas had allowed you to stay and consort with me.” She managed a feeble grin. “When Thomas told him we’d been riding out alone, I thought my brother would have an apoplexy. Or plant Thomas a facer. So when it came to siding with me or Geoffrey about you, I suppose Thomas was trying to make amends.” Joanna sighed. “And that’s when I told Geoffrey I’d never speak to him again. And I haven’t.”

“For almost two months?” Marcus’s alarm at her determination reared its head again.

Joanna’s nodded. “I spoke to Mama and Diana after we reached Longford, but I said not one word to Geoffrey the entire week we were journeying home. I tried to read, but Geoffrey didn’t believe me at first and insisted on trying to make the most inane conversation. Finally, after two whole days of ignoring him, he became even more grumpy and took to riding beside the carriage, which was perfectly fine with me.” She sniffed again. “The silence was very conducive to my reading.”

Such a breach between brother and sister was the last thing Marcus had wanted. “But surely you reconciled with Lord Longford after you returned home?”

Vehemently she shook her head. “No, Marcus, I will not relent and forgive him unless he allows us to marry.”

“But he is your family, my dear.” He couldn’t imagine forsaking one of his own brothers.

“But I want you to be my family too, Marcus.” The plaintive sound in her voice almost broke his heart. “Whenever I sit and hold little Geoffrey, all I can think is he might be a little Marcus or Marcella. I want it so badly I feel wicked.”