Gail Whitiker Read Free

had been able to glean of Mr Bretton’s situation in life, the conversation was not one of which her aunt would have approved.
    Of course, had he not introduced himself, she would not be in the enviable position now of having Mr Volney’s book to read over the weekend. She would still be scouring London’s many bookshops, quizzing inexperienced clerks in her search for the elusive volume and probably meeting with the same disappointing results as she had in all of her previous attempts. So, in fact, her meeting with Mr Bretton had been most fortuitous in that it had saved her from all those endless hours of tedium!
    The fact he had initially been sceptical of her interest in Egypt was a failing Joanna was willing to overlook. She had encountered it countless times before, both from gentlemen who thought she hadn’t a brain in her head and from women who couldn’t understand her desire to be more than a wife or mother. But given that his interest in the subject was surely as keen as her own, she was willing to forgive him his boldness in approaching her, and to excuse herself for having encouraged the conversation. She was even looking forward to seeing him at her father’s lecture tomorrow evening.
    It would be a pleasure talking to a London gentleman who really did know more about pharaohs than foxhunting and wasn’t ashamed to admit it!
    * * *
    Upon arriving home, Joanna turned her attention to the events of the upcoming days. Now that the family’s period of mourning was at an end, invitations had begun arriving again. While she wanted to believe that most were extended out of a genuine desire to welcome the new Lord Bonnington and his daughter to society, she suspected that just as many were prompted by morbid curiosity.
    After all, in the blink of an eye, her father had gone from being the ignored younger son and brother of an earl, to being the Earl of Bonnington himself, while she had been elevated from a bluestocking nobody to the highly eligible Lady Joanna Northrup.
    Astonishing, really, how far reaching the effects of a single gunshot could be.
    ‘Ah, there you are, Joanna,’ Lady Cynthia Klegston said as Joanna walked into the morning room. ‘All finished with your shopping?’
    ‘For now.’ Joanna bent to kiss her aunt on the cheek—a token of respect rather than affection. She had never been entirely comfortable in the company of her father’s eldest sister, a brusque, plain-speaking widow with two married daughters who had paid little or no attention to her youngest brother before his unexpected elevation to the peerage and who only did so now because she realised it was in her best interests to do so. ‘I left your necklace with the jeweller to be repaired, checked on the order for your stationery and advised Madame Clermont that you would be in to see her at two o’clock this afternoon. She said that would be convenient.’
    ‘Of course it will be convenient,’ Lady Cynthia snapped. ‘I bring her a great deal of business. It behoves her to find it convenient. And I think you had best come with me. I’ve decided you shall have a new gown for the dinner party. As a young lady who is not engaged or married, we cannot afford to have you appear anything less than your best, especially now that you are Lady Joanna Northrup and in need of a wealthy husband. Dash it all, where are my spectacles? I can never find the wretched things when I need them.’
    Having noticed the spectacles on the small table next to the wing chair, Joanna silently went to retrieve them. As a rule, she tried to stay out of her aunt’s way. Lady Cynthia was a forceful presence, who, like her late older brother, hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with her younger brother’s family until death had forced her to do so.
    Ironic, really, that her aunt, who had once been so openly disapproving of every aspect of William’s life, should now be heard to say that she was doing all she could to help her poor brother and niece