Page 14 of The Dandy Lyon

“He is to sit there,” Honoria pointed to the table at the very end of the tent—as Joanna had suspected—just barely underneath the canvas awning. “With Mr. Davis, Mr. Froggatt, and Mr. Carter.”

Joanna sent her hostess a long-suffering look. “Really, Honoria. The gentleman hasn’t done anything to merit his being sent to Coventry.”

“Except possess the lowest rank of every person here save the servants.” Honoria frowned. “It is scarcely my fault that protocol prohibits him from sitting anywhere else, Joanna.”

“I would think as he made such a magnanimous donation to your charity, that in itself would warrant a break with protocol.” The luncheon would be deadly dull with no one to speak to save Thomas and Honoria. They’d long ago run through every bit of new conversation they possessed. Guests were supposed to take up the slack and help entertain them and Mr. Dandridge was one of the guests. “I certainly wish to converse with him.”

“You seemed to have done that sufficiently last evening, if you recall.” Honoria sent her a sly look. “Thomas remarked on it after we retired.”

“As I said, Mr. Dandridge is a fascinating gentleman. We spoke of shooting, about which he seemed very knowledgeable.” Well, they’d spoken of her learning to shoot at least. That hurdle would need to be addressed today as well if she was going to hold Mr. Dandridge to his promise on the morrow.

“After the breakfast but before the gentlemen return to the fields there should be ample time for the two of you to speak.” Her friend’s mouth pursed in displeasure. “Although I must warn you, my dear, Thomas has tasked me with being your chaperon whenever you are in the company of Mr. Dandridge.”

Goodness, but that would certainly put a damper on any interesting conversation they wished to hold. Joanna wondered what Mr. Dandridge would think of this new turn of events. If he wished to speak with her in private, he was in for a nasty shock. “Is that truly necessary, Honoria?”

“Thomas insisted. And he’s written to your brother to inform him of Mr. Dandridge’s presence.”

Given Geoffrey’s reaction to her dancing with the gentleman in May, Joanna doubted he would stand for her being constantly in Mr. Dandridge’s company now. At least Thomas didn’t know about that debacle. Or rather, he didn’t seem to. But Geoffrey would be angrier than a hive of bees after their honey had been stolen when he found out Mr. Dandridge was at the lodge in Scotland. With her. The only consolation she could take was that Geoffrey wouldn’t be able to leave Longford until after the baby had arrived and his journey to Scotland would take him well over at week. So she and Mr. Dandridge had a bit of time to become acquainted.

“Very well. I shall speak with him after breakfast.” Joanna took her place beside Honoria as the first of the gentlemen appeared in the distance. She sent her friend a sideways glance. “But be assured I will speak with him.”

“Why are you being so insistent about Mr. Dandridge, my dear? He has no social standing whatsoever.” Honoria sounded bewildered.

“Why are you against him so suddenly? You were singing his praises to the rafters when he was simply Mr. James, your charity’s noble benefactor.” Joanna arched her brows. She’d thought Honoria certainly would not turn her back on a man who was so generous to her favorite cause.

“Besides the fact that Mr. Dandridge lied to me and to the charity’s board about who he was,” she said. From the pursed lips, Joanna understood that the lie had truly ruffled Honoria’s feathers. “Thomas brought it to my attention that he may very well have made his donations simply in order to pursue you.”

“I had wondered about that myself.” Joanna spoke low, mostly to herself.

“Then why would he not simply apply to Geoffrey to court you?” The triumph in Honoria’s voice rankled Joanna, something her friend had never done before.

“I suppose for the same reason he wished to remain unknown to your charity. He feels his reputation would prohibit him from being acceptable.” That was certainly true where Geoffrey was concerned. Unless they were very lucky, when Geoffrey found out about Mr. Dandridge’s presence here, things would go straight to the devil in a fast carriage. “I do not blame him for wishing to lead the life of an ordinary gentleman.”

“But Joanna, Mr. Dandridge is neither ordinary nor a gentleman.” Honoria frowned at her, then nodded toward the approaching shooters. “We must put this discussion aside for the moment. The gentlemen are upon us.”

“Yes, they are.” Joanna assumed a smile and nodded as Mr. Carstairs and Mr. Newcastle joined them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. How goes the shooting?”

“Dashed tricky, I say, Lady Joanna.” Mr. Newcastle’s face wore a sour look. “The grouse have learned a thing or two about shooting I daresay. Never seemed to fly where they should, eh Carstairs?”

“I didn’t find them quite so elusive, my lady.” Mr. Carstairs grinned at her. “My numbers were decent at least.” He shook his head. “But they don’t hold a candle to what Dandy brought down.”

“Dandy?” Joanna perked up.

“Mr. Dandridge, my lady.”

“Ah.” Now here were a couple of interesting pieces of information. “Still, well done, Mr. Carstairs.” Joanna tried to keep her gaze on the gentlemen in front of her, but kept glancing about, trying to catch sight of Mr. Dandridge. Dandy. “And I daresay you will fare better after breakfast, Mr. Newcastle, with all this delicious food to fortify you.”

“This way, gentlemen.” Thankfully, Honoria steered them toward their seats several tables away.

Reluctantly, Joanna took her seat but continued to scan the figures heading for the tent for Mr. Dandridge’s familiar visage. When he finally came into view, Joanna’s heart sank as he was striding along, deep in conversation with Thomas of all people. That certainly couldn’t bode well for her desire to speak with the man.

They entered the tent, Thomas turning toward their table and Mr. Dandridge heading away toward the furthest reaches of the canopy. With a sigh, Joanna assumed her cheerful face again as Thomas sat down beside her. “And how did you fare, Thomas? I’ve heard the birds were too canny for some of your guests to hit.”

Chuckling, Thomas stood as Honoria joined them. “You’ve been talking to Newcastle, I’ll wager.” He shook his head as he sat again. “The man can tell you every single detail about a scattergun except how to fire it. His numbers are always wretched.”

“Well, I’m glad some of the poor birds managed to escape, my dear.” Honoria’s eyes were sad. “I do so hate this time of year. So much death in the sky.”

“But that means so much more fowl in the larder, my dear.” Her husband’s smile never wavered. “How else could we manage this splendor on the table.” He nodded as the footmen brought out the first course of broiled kidneys, pulled fowl, potted pigeons, stuffed tomatoes, and tongue.