sculptures?” Alex said, slanting a look down at her.
“Yes, indeed,” Joanna said. “If you have not already seen them, my lord, I suggest that you look at once. You will particularly admire the rendition of yourself laying waste the unresisting acres of the Arctic and planting your flag in truly phallic fashion!”
Lottie glared at her and stroked her fan suggestively down the sleeve of Alex’s immaculate evening coat. “Perhaps you may settle a small matter for me, my lord?” she purred. “Is it true that you wrestled a polar bear and have the scars to prove it? Joanna absolutely refuses to tell me!”
“Because I have no notion,” Joanna said, “and less interest.”
Alex gave her another quizzical look. It brought the blood burning hotly into her face, which was exceptionally annoying since the last time she had blushed had probably been when she was about twelve years old.
“You disappoint me, Lady Joanna,” he said.
“I am aware of that,” Joanna said. “You have made your disapproval of me quite plain.”
“Oh, please,” Lottie fluttered, “do show us. Are they as impressive as Lord Nelson’s wounds were? I hear that he, too, encountered a bear in the Arctic wastes.”
“Madam—” Alex flicked Lottie’s fan firmly away as the feathers tickled his wrist “—I fear I would need to know you a great deal more intimately before I strip off in your ballroom, or indeed any other room.”
He turned to Joanna and offered his hand. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Joanna? I seldom dance, but I imagine I might manage the cotillion.”
“Flattered as I am that you are prepared to try for me,” Joanna said, smiling demurely, “I fear we cannot dance if you wish to join me in discouraging rumors of our affaire, my lord. Alas, my card is full anyway.”
“Then discard it and start afresh,” Alex said. “I wish to speak with you.”
“Don’t you ever say please, my lord?” Joanna asked, stung by his high-handedness. “It may be that I would have a greater desire to converse with you if you exercised a little courtesy.”
Something wicked kindled in Alex’s eyes, making Joanna catch her breath. “If you please,” Alex murmured. “You see, Lady Joanna, that sometimes I will beg-if there is something I want enough.”
Their gazes locked for a long moment. A smile crept into Alex’s eyes. Joanna felt as though the ground was shifting slightly under her feet. But she was getting the measure of this man now and his ability to discomfit her. She allowed a cool little smile to tilt her lips in return.
“Unlike you, my lord,” she said, turning to James Devlin, “your cousin had the foresight to send me a note this afternoon requesting the first dance with me.” She got to her feet and offered her hand to James. “Mr. Devlin, I should be delighted. That is—” she hesitated “—if you will be happy sitting out on your own, Merryn?”
“I shall go and chat to Miss Drayton,” her sister said. “Don’t worry about me.”
The look of chagrin on Alex’s face as he realized that he had been outwitted was rewarding, Joanna thought. Dev shot him a look that was half rueful, half triumphant. “You are always impressing on me that planning is half the battle, Alex,” he said. “Those are your own tactics.”
“Outmaneuvered, my lord!” Lottie declared. “You will have to dance with me instead. Mr. Cummings will be delighted-once he has opened the ball with me he never dances again but retires to his study to look at those tiresome piles of money.” She stood up and held out a hand imperiously to Alex and after a moment he took it. Joanna’s stomach gave a little lurch. Lottie, it seemed, was indeed intent on seduction, for she was already sliding her hand through Alex’s arm in a most intimate way and looking up at him with a predatory, catlike gleam in her eyes. And really, Joanna thought, it was contrary of her to be cross when not only was she not Alex’s mistress but she had practically told Lottie to seduce him anyway.
The eager press of guests in Lottie’s reception rooms fell back a little to allow them through the archway into the ballroom. All about her, Joanna was aware of the feverish whisper and hiss of conversation, the sycophantic smiles of the ladies as they fluttered to attract Alex’s attention, the hearty greetings of the men, the whole of society angling for his attention and notice.
“I say, ma’am,” Devlin said, walking beside her, “is this not extraordinary? Who would have thought that Alex, of all people, would be so in demand! It is like escorting royalty!”
“I think Lord Grant is probably more popular than the Prince Regent,” Joanna said dryly. “Society is very fickle, Mr. Devlin, and very bored. We are always looking for the next sensation and at the moment that is your cousin. Explorers are all the rage. No doubt this time next year the fashion will be for Chinese wallpaper or Scottish breeds of dog.”
“Alex is hardly comparable to a dog, ma’am,” Dev protested, though with a smile. “And he is the quarry of all the matchmaking mamas, of course.”
“Is he?” Joanna felt a strange dropping feeling in her stomach. “I had no notion that Lord Grant was seeking a bride.”
“Oh, I do not think he wants a wife,” Dev said candidly, “but Balvenie currently has no heir.”
“I see. Of course.” Joanna felt the cold gnawing inside her. David, too, had wanted a son. “Yes,” she said. “Most men want an heir.”
Even though she sought to keep her tone level there must have been some note in it that caught Dev’s attention for he gave her a quick, puzzled look. She smiled at him blandly and saw his brow clear. Oh, it was so easy to pretend …
It had taken them so long to fight their way through the crowds that the cotillion was already over and the orchestra, seeing them approach, swung into a lively rendition of Thomas Arne’s march from Britannia in Alex’s honor. Glancing at him, Joanna saw that his face was absolutely impassive. Lottie was clinging to his arm and beaming with reflected glory and the entire ballroom broke into spontaneous applause.
“It would be more appropriate,” Joanna whispered to Dev, “to have played Mr. Arne’s ‘Much Ado about Nothing.’”
Alex gave her an unreadable look and Joanna realized that he had heard her. Dev was looking from one to the other with a puzzled expression on his handsome face.
“I say, you really do not like one another very much, do you, Lady Joanna? When Alex told me that you were not really … um … intimate I thought that he was merely … um—” He broke off in confusion, sounding all at once a great deal less sophisticated than his appearance suggested.
“I fear I am prejudiced against explorers, Mr. Devlin,” Joanna said, taking pity on him, “having been married to one.”
“Oh, but surely David was the most admirable of men,” Dev said, his face lighting up. “He was a hero of mine when I was only a small boy.”
“I fear,” Joanna said, “that heroes can be uncomfortable men to live with.” She saw his look of blank astonishment and added bitterly, “It can be so hard to live up to the expectation.”
The
