country-dance.
“I hope that Alex will forgive me cutting him out,” Dev said as he and Joanna moved through the opening figures. “I was surprised he asked you to dance, ma’am. A combination of an old wound and lack of inclination usually keeps him from the floor.”
Joanna had been surprised as well. Whilst Alex’s injured leg did not seem to hinder him unduly, she could not imagine that a half-hour country-dance would be comfortable for him. She had observed from the grim set of his mouth when Lottie had questioned him on his polar bear injuries that this was another issue he did not discuss. Like the subject of his popularity as an explorer and the death of his wife, it was not up for debate, and there was something most stern and quelling about Alex Grant when he decided a topic was not open for discussion. Joanna doubted that many people gainsaid him. He was too authoritative and too intimidating.
“Alex only accepted Mrs. Cummings’s invitation tonight as a favor to me,” Dev was saying. “He is nowhere near as unhelpful as he can seem, you know, ma’am.”
“I will take your word for it, Mr. Devlin,” Joanna said, smiling. “And as I am sure that your cousin is indifferent to whom I dance with, so you are in no imminent danger of his calling you out.”
“Well, I hope not,” Dev said. “He did warn me off you earlier, though.” He gave her a look of frank admiration. “Can’t say I blame him, ma’am.”
“Your cousin is presumptuous,” Joanna snapped. She shot a furious look at Alex across the floor. Since it seemed extremely unlikely that David had made Alex promise to protect her in some touching deathbed scene-she was sure that the reverse must be true-she could only assume that Alex had warned his young cousin away because he thought her dangerous to Devlin’s virtue. For a moment she watched Alex dancing with Lottie. Mrs. Cummings was turning a respectable country-dance into something a great deal more tactile. She was all over Alex like ivy, Joanna thought, feeling for those polar bear scars herself. As she saw Alex pry Lottie’s fingers away from his shirtfront, she decided Lottie’s persistent attentions were the least penance that he deserved.
“In your note to me this afternoon you mentioned a favor, Mr. Devlin,” she said, turning back to Dev. “How can I help you? Though if it is anything to do with your cousin, I should warn you that I have absolutely no influence with him at all.”
“Know what you mean, ma’am,” Dev said gloomily. “Alex knows his own mind too well to welcome other counsel.”
“You mean that he is arrogant,” Joanna said.
Dev winced. “Well, that could be one word for it, I suppose. Truth is, I am in bad odor with him at the moment for abandoning my navy commission to take part in an expedition to Mexico.” He looked at her appealingly. “I wondered if you might speak with him, ma’am, and smooth matters over for me?”
“I could try,” Joanna said, “but it would only make things worse for you, Mr. Devlin. I am afraid that when it comes to incurring your cousin’s disapproval, I am streets ahead of you.”
The figure of the dance took them past the corner where Merryn was sitting chatting to Miss Drayton. Joanna saw that Devlin was watching her sister.
“Lady Merryn does not dance?” he said when they came back together again.
“My sister prefers more intellectual pursuits,” Joanna said, smiling. Merryn was a bluestocking who was unconventional enough to make no secret of her preference for intelligent debate over dancing. It did, however, limit her circle of friends and many people in the ton, Lottie included, thought her a complete original because of her lack of interest in frivolity.
She realized that Dev was watching her with a surprisingly perceptive gaze. “A pity,” he said. “Because I am sure she would be a graceful dancer. But I admire a woman who is different.”
“If you can discuss naval architecture with her then you will win her approval,” Joanna said lightly. The music drew to a close and she and Dev joined in the smattering of applause from the dancers. “She has been attending the lectures at the Royal Institution with some of her friends.”
“Indeed?” Dev said. There was a frown between his brows. “I attended the talk last week, the one about a new design for the American frigates. I must have seen Lady Merryn at the meeting although—” he hesitated “—I thought that I had glimpsed her in quite a different place.”
“Then it seems you have an interest in common,” Joanna said, smiling. She put a hand on Dev’s arm. “A word of advice, though, Mr. Devlin. Merryn has lived in the country for most of her life and is unused to the ways of the ton. I would be sorry to see her … disappointed in any way.”
Again she saw a slight frown mar Dev’s brow and saw, too, an expression in his eyes that she could not understand, but then his face cleared and he put his hand over hers and gave her gloved fingers a comforting squeeze.
“Have no fear, ma’am. I don’t trifle with young ladies.” He paused. “Well, honesty compels me to admit that I do, but I swear I shall do nothing to upset you with regard to your sister.”
“Devlin.” Jo turned to see that Alex had shaken off Lottie Cummings, whom Joanna was surprised to see dancing with John Hagan, and was prowling across the floor toward them, for once ignoring the handshakes and acclaim of those trying to gain his attention. His gaze was on their clasped hands and it seemed to Joanna that Dev released her more slowly, and more provocatively, than was strictly necessary.
“Alex,” Dev said, a grin curling his mouth. “Have you come to cut in on us?”
“Mr. Cummings,” Alex said, his gaze riveted on Joanna’s face, “wishes to discuss your Mexican expedition plan with you, Dev, so you had better unhand Lady Joanna and join him in the drawing room.”
Dev’s face lit up. “Did you put in a word for me, Alex? I say, you are the most splendid chap! Your servant, Lady Joanna.” He sketched Joanna a bow. “Please excuse me.”
“Of course,” Joanna said, smiling. “Good luck.”
“May I escort you to the dining room, Lady Joanna?” Alex asked. He was quite definitely not smiling. “Such energetic flirtation as you have indulged in with my cousin must lead you to require some refreshment, I think.”
Joanna shot him a look of dislike. “We were merely dancing, my lord.”
Alex arched a brow. “Is that what you call it?”
“I heard that you had warned Mr. Devlin to keep away from me,” Joanna said as they passed through the door into the dining room, where Lottie’s ice sculptures were wilting in the heat from the candles. “Being of a charitable disposition I assumed that it was because my late husband had asked you to take a brotherly interest in my welfare and you wished to protect me from young rakes.”
Alex laughed. “You could not be more mistaken, Lady Joanna. Your husband intimated to me that you were well able to take care of yourself and I am inclined to believe him.”
Joanna felt a stab of sensation that felt curiously like misery. So David had made her sound like a brass-faced bitch and Alex had believed him. Of course he had. Why would he not? Everyone believed David Ware to be the most complete hero, and Alex had been David’s closest friend. She gave herself a little shake. What had she expected? David was never going to sing her praises; they had been estranged for years, locked in mutual loathing.
