Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress by Jane Ashford Page A

and she forgot Constance in the organization of a set.
    There were several more dances before midnight, when the guests began to depart. Joanna had the last dance with Jonathan Erland again, and he was most enthusiastic about the evening. “I have never had such fun in England,” he told her. “Your mother is the best of hostesses.”
    â€œAh, but you must try to outdo her,” teased Joanna.
    â€œNo thought is further from my mind. I hope merely to repay her, and perhaps amuse her a bit.”
    Joanna nodded absently.
    â€œWill you go riding with me another day, Miss Joanna?” said her partner somewhat abruptly. “I very much enjoyed our outing last week.”
    â€œIf you like,” said Joanna.
    â€œPerhaps Miss, ah, Williston would like to come also? We might make up a party.”
    Joanna began to look more interested. “I don’t know if Constance rides. I suppose she does.”
    â€œWe shall ask her.”
    The set ended on this note, and Joanna was called away by her mother, to say good-bye to the Grants. As they were talking, the Finley party came up to take their leave as well. Sir Rollin had reappeared from wherever he had spent the latter part of the evening; he looked bitterly sardonic. As Adrienne was bidding her mother farewell, Joanna looked at Peter. They had not danced and had hardly spoken to each other. How strange that seemed. Since their childhood, they had been inseparable at every neighborhood gathering they attended. And now, she had had a perfectly pleasant evening without him.
    Peter looked down at her. “I am sorry we could not talk more,” he blurted. “I meant to.”
    Joanna was surprised at his awkwardness. She had always thought of Peter as an immensely polished gentleman. But beside Sir Rollin Denby, he seemed a boy. “Yes,” she replied easily. On impulse, she held out a hand. “Another time, perhaps.”
    Peter nodded, but his eyes slid nervously toward his wife. Joanna stared. How could she have thought herself in love with him?
    Adrienne finished her good-byes quickly, gathered Peter, and went out, with a sharp glance at Joanna. Sir Rollin bowed over Mrs. Rowntree’s hand, to her evident amazement, and then turned to Joanna. “What have you done to set Adrienne’s back up?” he asked softly.
    â€œI?”
    He smiled. “So innocent. I wager we both know. Young Peter is not worth the battle, you know.” He looked at her. “Yes, I think you do.”
    Cheeks flaming, Joanna blurted, “Where did you go?” Then berated herself for sounding like a ninny.
    Denby raised one eyebrow, then smiled again. “Alas, I have not been a model guest, have I? I confess I went out to the garden.”
    â€œThe garden?”
    â€œYes. To brood on my wrongs.”
    The girl smiled back uncertainly. “Not really?”
    â€œReally. Brooding is good for the soul, you know.”
    â€œI thought it was just the opposite.”
    â€œI suppose it depends upon the soul in question.”
    Joanna looked up at his tall, elegant figure, not knowing whether to laugh. Before she could decide, he took his leave and followed his sister out the door.
    â€œHow strange he is,” said Joanna to herself.
    She did not realize she had spoken aloud until a voice replied, “He strives to give that impression, certainly, the Byronic agony.”
    Joanna turned to see Jonathan Erland’s ironic smile.
    â€œIt is irresistibly attractive to some females, I understand,” he added.
    Joanna did not quite like the way he looked at her when he said this, so she answered only, “You are going, Mr. Erland?”
    He nodded. “Yes, but I…” He paused. “Yes. Good night.”
    â€œGood night.”
    Bidding her mother farewell also, he went out.
    Only the group around Mr. Rowntree remained now, and Joanna’s mother gestured toward them with a smile. “They will be