Page 25 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

“I ’ve explained this to you, Mother. She’s not from the right sort of family.” Joshua did his best to hold back the sigh of exasperation that wanted to escape.

“Family shamily. She’s perfect for you! She’s sweet and intelligent. She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, I am very well aware of all of that. Thank you.”

“And she’s quite taken with you. She could hardly keep her eyes off of you when you were dancing with that trained dog.”

“Dancing with what?” he asked, turning on her. He couldn’t believe his mother would say such a horrid thing about Miss Hanslow!

“I do beg your pardon. Miss Sherman pointed out that Miss Hanslow was just the sort of girl you should marry because she’s so well trained,” his mother explained. “She meant the girl was trained in music, art, and hostessing, and said as much. I’m the one who compared her to a dog.”

He settled down a bit. He couldn’t believe his mother would ever be so intentionally cruel, but at least she hadn’t said as much to anyone other than Miss Sherman. “Oh. Yes, she is very well… she has many talents.” He shook his head now, trying to get the image of Miss Hanslow as a dog out of his mind.

The other part of what his mother said, filtered into his memory. “She was watching me?”

“Couldn’t stop.”

Joshua’s lips quirked up, but he quickly school his features into a bland expression. “I’m sure she was simply watching all the dancers.”

“And speaking about you too.”

“Really?”

“She seems quite taken with you,” his mother pointed out.

Joshua wasn’t entirely certain she was right, but if she was… He caught sight of Miss Hanslow twirling about the room with Lord Featherington. She had a polite smile on her face and laughed dutifully at something he said.

Joshua had come to this ball this evening with the intention of spending as much time with Miss Hanslow as he could. He needed to see if she truly was someone he could spend the rest of his life with. At this moment, he was very unsure that she was, but maybe he just needed to get to know her better. Spend more time with her. He would give it another try. He had, after all, asked her father to court her. The least he could do was try.

~*~

Gwendolyn had just slipped through the French doors, coming back into the ballroom after ensuring that everything was all right at her club. Of course it had been. She should never had even thought to worry! Jamieson had everything well in hand.

There weren’t very many ladies there, just a party of about ten older women playing cards up in the card room. There were a few parties in the dining room enjoying a late dinner, but aside from that, the tea room was completely empty.

Unfortunately, Gwendolyn’s father had seen her slip into the ball, she was sure of it. She saw his eyes narrow on her almost immediately. She had to do something fast!

Lord Wickford was standing directly in front her. She grabbed his arm. “My lord! Are those the strains of the next dance just beginning?”

He tilted his head, as if listening to the music and then gave her a brilliant smile. “Why yes, I do believe it is. Would you care to dance, Miss Sherman?”

She gave a tiny little sigh of relief before gracing him with a smile. “I would, thank you.”

They joined the line of dancers and bowed to each other.

Out of the corner of Gwendolyn’s eye, she could see her father following her. He gave an almost imperceptible shrug, then turned back to Mrs. Rutledge who was standing by his side. Maybe he hadn’t actually seen her come in. If he had, she was sure she would hear about it later. In the meantime, she suddenly found herself dancing with Lord Wickford!

And he was smiling at her.

She took his hand and allowed herself to gaze up into his eyes. They were entrancing. She could feel the heat of his hand through their gloves and wondered what it would be like to actually touch his bare hand with hers. Would they be soft, like that of so many gentlemen here who had never seen a day’s work, or hard and calloused? She imagined the latter. He wasn’t a man to leave the work to others. He was the sort who would chip in and lend a hand.

Judging by the breadth of his shoulders and the strength evident in his legs, he did so on a regular basis. She nearly sighed as she imagined him lifting heavy boxes and laughing with the men he was working with in easy camaraderie.

“You look deep in thought, Miss Sherman. Care to share?” he asked, pulling her from her silly daydream.

She gave a little laugh, embarrassed at being caught so. “No, my lord, just woolgathering. You will have to excuse me. It is late, but… I realized we have never shared a dance. Thank you for satisfying my curiosity. It was very kind of you.”

He widened his eyes. “How is it possible that we have never danced? How can I have been so remiss when you are clearly an excellent dancer?”

They moved apart just then, but when they came back together, she smiled at him saying, “I can’t imagine how it has happened, but I am happy that we have remedied the situation.”

“As am I.”

Although they fell into silence, Gwendolyn didn’t feel as if they’d ceased communicating at all. His eyes were not only beautiful but expressive as well. They laughed and cajoled as he and Gwendolyn moved through the steps of the dance. And they teased her as well. She didn’t know how he did it, but the man had her giggling at absolutely nothing!

She turned and hopped forward. She lowered her gaze demurely as she retreated and then raised it up again as she moved forward, raising her arm for him to take her hand. The language of the dance and his undivided attention had her completely captivated. Never before had movement contained such meaning.

Although she was vaguely aware of the other dancers around them, she felt as if he saw her and only her. He looked at her as if she were the only woman in the room. As if she were the only person in this world who he wanted to be with just now. She had his undivided attention, and it was all-consuming. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she knew it wasn’t merely the dance that made it do so. It was him. He did this to her, and for the first time since they’d met, she didn’t feel angry about it or upset or overwhelmed.

She simply felt… happy.

She knew now why this man had so many friends. Why women were vying for his attention. Why he was one of the best-known gentlemen in society. He was more than charming; somehow he had woven a spell around her and she, like a lamb being led to slaughter, was more than happy to succumb.

~May 20 ~

Joshua was ready. He was ready to put his plan into action—plans, actually. He had great plans for the evening!

At the height of the afternoon, when the club was at its fullest, Joshua stood up on a chair in the reading room and called for everyone’s attention. Someone whistled, a high, piercing sound. It was very loud in the room, but it worked at getting everyone’s attention.

“Gentlemen! Please, I do beg your pardon for interrupting, but I have a very important announcement and, if you would, please spread the news to all the other members of Powell’s who are not here this evening,” Joshua started.

Everyone looked up at him expectantly.

“I have good news, and I have bad news,” he said.

“Give us the bad first!” someone called out.

Joshua nodded. “The bad news is that my latest shipment of rum from my estate is currently sitting at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The ship bringing it sank on its way here.”

There were loud groans and exclamations of horror.

“Yes, yes, I know. I am as deeply upset about this as you are. Powell’s rum has quickly become an institution here. There is simply nothing nearly as good.”

“What are we to drink?” another gentleman called out.

“Ah, and here is where I bring you some good news! I have secured a limited supply, for the moment, of a liquor called mastiha. If it is popular, I can get more. It is from a Greek island, and I think you will like it very much. It’s quite different.”

“I’ve had that. It’s excellent,” Lord Roseberry said.

“I had it when I was on the continent for my grand tour,” Lord Keppel spoke up.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Lord Featherington said.

“Taste it! I think you’ll like it. The first drink is on me,” Joshua announced.

That brought a cheer. He laughed and raised his hands for quiet once again.

“I have further good news for you this evening,” he said above the conversation that had started once again.

The gentlemen talking were quieted by others who wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I have a new chef, and I know you are going to like him,” Joshua announced.

“Is the first meal free?” a gentleman called out from the back.

Joshua just laughed. “No, I’m sorry, Mr. Portbury, it is not. That’s how confident I am that you will enjoy Mr. Connor’s cooking.”

“Connor? What sort of French name is that?” Mr. Portbury asked.

“Clearly, he is an Englishman, but have no fear, he is brilliant in the kitchen,” Joshua said.

“That means he knows his way around a roast, and for that I am grateful,” Lord Featherington commented loudly.

There were guffaws of laughter.

“Enjoy your evening! And remember to try the mastiha,” Joshua said before hopping off his chair.

There was a smattering of applause. Most of the men went back to their conversations as the footmen entered the room with trays filled with glasses of the liquor for the members to try. He hoped it went over well. At least he knew the food would be appreciated.

He had just reentered the reading room after making the same announcement to the men in the card room when he was accosted by Lord Hanslow.

“My lord, this is a surprise. I didn’t even recall that you were a member,” Joshua admitted.

“Yes, well… I am but don’t come very often. Prefer the company at White’s. Nothing against this place, but, well… old habits and all that,” the man said.

“Of course. No hard feelings. Is there something in particular that has brought you here tonight?” Joshua asked with some trepidation.

“Yes, er, can we have a word?” The man looked around at all the occupied chairs.

“Of course.” Joshua led him to the back where he knew there were a few open seats. He gestured for the gentleman to take one and then asked, “Can I offer you a glass of mastiha?”

“What? Oh, no, no, thank you. I only drink brandy and, er, port after dinner, of course.”

“Very good.” Joshua turned and got the attention of one of his footmen. He ordered the gentleman a brandy and one for himself just for a change.

They talked of the latest happenings in society until their drinks were served and then Lord Hanslow raised his, gave Joshua a broad smile and said, “Here’s to the union of our families!”

Joshua’s smile faltered, and he lowered his drink without taking a sip. “I beg your pardon?”

The man reached forward and slapped Joshua on his shoulder. “I am giving you permission to court my daughter.”

It took a great deal of difficulty to keep his jaw from dropping open. He finally took in a breath. “Oh! My word!” Joshua didn’t know what to say. He had absolutely no intention of courting Miss Hanslow anymore but also did not want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with the powerful family.

Lord Hanslow chuckled. “Caught you off guard, didn’t I?”

“Er, yes. Yes, you most certainly did.” Possible routes out of this situation ran through Joshua’s mind. He could tell the gentleman right now that he no longer had a desire to court his daughter. He could tell him he was already courting someone else—a lie, but one that would hopefully be true soon enough. He could say nothing but then make himself so heinous that Miss Hanslow refused to marry him. Ideas kept rolling through his mind. Perhaps he could find a gentleman for the young lady who she would prefer to him. If she fell in love with someone else… but what was he thinking? That girl would never fall in love with anyone, and even if she did, she would put duty above her own feelings.

No, Joshua would have to come clean in some way or another. He just had no idea how. It would come to him—at least he hoped it would!

~May 24~

Joshua wasn’t entirely certain this was a good idea. In fact, even as he knocked on Miss Sherman’s door, he was ever more convinced that it wasn’t. As he was shown up to her drawing room, he had to remind himself of what his mother had told him. She’d said that Miss Sherman had not been able to stop watching him dance with Miss Hanslow at Lady Rexford’s ball. Not only that, but when he’d met Miss Sherman later that evening, she had accosted him. She’d practically asked him to dance.

Despite the fact that he’d already danced more than he ever had at a ball before, and had been thinking of finding his mother and leaving, he did grace her with one final dance. He was glad he did. He’d found her to be an excellent dance partner, holding a light conversation and never missing a step. Although her eyes had strayed a few times at the beginning, when he’d turned to see who she’d been looking at, he could only see her father standing by the side of the room watching them.

Mr. Sherman hadn’t looked particularly pleased, but then, Joshua had rarely seen the gentleman look very happy except when he was in the company of a certain Mrs. Rutledge.

“Lord Wickford, this is a surprise,” Miss Sherman said, pulling Joshua from his thoughts.

He bowed. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

“No, not at all. I was just debating whether to go over to the Ryder Street Club, but I am very happy to go later. Please, come in.” She indicated the chair across from where she’d been sitting on the sofa.

“How are things going at the club?” he asked, making himself comfortable.

“Very well! We have nearly seventy-five members.” Her smile was so excited, Joshua found himself smiling along with her.

“Before too long, I’m sure that number will be up to a hundred and then two.”

“I do hope so. We’ve been getting quite a few people asking permission to dine in the dining room, but I have had to stay strict that one must come with a member.” She gave a pretty little laugh.

Joshua could only shake his head. “Thank you, that’s my chef who’s brought you that business,” he pointed out.

“I know, and I am sorry about that.”

“No, I don’t believe you are,” he said with a smile to soften his words.

She gave another laugh. “No, actually, I’m not. You’re right!”