Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower #2) - Maggi Andersen Page 0,67
to Gentleman Jackson’s boxing studio to let off a bit of steam. And then he would seek Cartwright at his club to accept the invitation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jo took extra care with her appearance for the Cartwright’s soiree in Grosvenor Square. She wore the white and gold evening gown with her gold locket and gold slippers, and Sally had become adept at arranging Jo’s hair in the current fashion.
The butler admitted them to the drawing room where some forty guests stood drinking champagne. A gentleman played Chopin at the pianoforte. Jo searched unsuccessfully for Reade. He might still be in the country. Letty, in a silk gown the color of strawberries, came with Cartwright at her side to welcome them.
“I’m so pleased you could come. We have some interesting guests here tonight. Sarah Siddons, the great tragedienne, has promised to delight us with a reading. She appears so seldom now since she retired.”
“How wonderful,” Jo murmured. Perhaps she should pinch herself. “The cream of the ton were here tonight.” Jo took a glass of champagne from a footman, her gaze roaming the long, elegant room. Lord Liverpool was engaged in conversation with Lady Jersey. “They make me a little nervous.”
An hour passed while the guests engaged them in conversation before Letty joined Jo on one of a pair of cream satin and gilt sofas. “So, Jo, how are you, really?”
“I am fine, thank you.” Jo wondered if Letty had heard the gossip. She must have. It appeared in a popular scandal sheet. Jo rebuffed all offers. It suggested she had no wish to marry and accused her of being cold-hearted. It made her all the keener to leave London. Her nerves suffered, and it was difficult to refute the gossip because there was a cold-core lodged in her heart.
“Good to see you, Lord Reade,” a gentleman’s voice came from behind Jo’s sofa. “I hear you are off to Scotland, sir.”
Jo’s frisson of delight at hearing his name faded with the realization that he was going to find Mrs. Millet. Her fingers trembled around the glass, and she spilled droplets on her gloves.
Reade came into view, tall and imposing in his black evening clothes, and so handsome, her heart gave a leap. “Allow me.” He produced a handkerchief and offered it to her with a smile.
“Thank you.” Struggling to regain her composure, she dabbed at the almost invisible droplets.
“It is good to see you again, Miss Dalrymple.”
“And you, Lord Reade.” She held out his handkerchief.
He returned it to his pocket and greeted his hostess, who hovered with an enigmatic smile. “Letty.”
“Good of you to come, Reade. You have not been long in Town, Cartwright tells me.”
“I returned as soon as I heard you were to hold one of your legendary soirees,” he said with a bow.
“Charmer,” Letty said with a laugh.
Cartwright shepherded Jo’s father and aunt over to the door. She heard him mention a first edition in the library.
A guest appeared at Letty’s elbow, and she excused herself. For a moment, Jo and Reade were alone. He sat beside her.
“Was your journey north successful?” she asked.
His dark eyes searched hers. “It was. I don’t like those shadows beneath your eyes, Jo,” he murmured. “Are you well?”
“I’m…I’m…” Jo’s lips trembled, and she feared she would cry. She loved him so much. Mrs. Millet would have friends, treacherous ones. Jo couldn’t bear to think of him in danger again. It was impossible not to love him. But he was restless. He would not choose a contented, quiet country life. And she was hopelessly ordinary. A baroness? How absurd. As if he would want her.
She couldn’t bear it a moment longer. “I suppose I am more tired than I thought.”
“Jo…”
She busied herself with her fan. “The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of engagements and callers.”
His dark brows drew together. “You are engaged?”
“My daughter is not engaged, Lord Reade,” her father said at her elbow. “There have been offers, and she has refused them.”
People turned, and conversations paused.
Oh, Papa, Jo thought, they will laugh at you. “I have developed a headache, Papa,” she said faintly, which was true, her temples thumped. “I wonder if you’d take me home?”
Reade had risen to his feet. He said no more, but he watched with concern as they made their apologies to the Cartwrights.
“A pity to Miss Sarah Siddons’ performance, but no matter,” Aunt Mary said in the carriage. “As long as you are all right, Jo.”
“I’ve ruined your evening,” Jo said, trembling with distress.