A Wedding in Springtime (26 page)

“What am I do to?” she murmured to herself.

“Your brother is under the hatches deep,” said a small voice.

“Jemmy?” asked Genie.

“Aye, milady.” The small form of Jem stepped out of the mist.

“Should you not be at breakfast?”

Jem shrugged. “You need a gullgroper. Only one I know can tip that kind of blunt.”

“Jem dear, I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.”

“A gullgroper whats lends money to gamesters.”

“I see,” said Genie quietly. She had no idea even an hour ago that she would be in need of this type of information.

“The Candyman can tip you the blunt you need.”

“Candyman? Where would I find this person?”

“Chocolate Shoppe in Piccadilly.” Jem recited the address and Genie stored it away for future reference if needed.

“Thank you, though I hope this information will not be needed. Go on back to your breakfast now. You shouldn’t be out in all this damp air.”

“Aye, milady.” Jem shuffled back into the fog but turned and scampered back.

“Don’t go there, milady,” he whispered. “Don’t go see the Candyman. He’s a mean cove.”

“Thank you, Jemmy. Go on back now.” Genie listened until the footsteps disappeared in the direction of Grant’s house.

Grant was next door to her. Was he sleeping now? Probably. Desire to run and tell him what happened and ask for help washed over her. But she should not, could not. Mr. Grant was a shining dream, but he was not her future.

***

Grant could not remember when he had acted more like a horse’s arse. His behavior toward Genie, Miss Talbot to him from now on, had been incorrigible. His shocking words and actions revealed clearly he had drunk too much. The fact that he remembered every painful detail proved he had not drunk enough.

Had he really asked Miss Talbot, an innocent debutante living under the protection of the Earl of Bremerton, to be his mistress? He put his aching head in his hands and groaned. So she met a man in the lending library. So she encouraged that dull boy Blakely. None of it could excuse his own behavior.

He had always been careful to avoid any situation which would force him into marriage. He had avoided schemes, entrapments, plots, and intrigues, and yet here he was, tripping over his own stupid self. If any situation ever called for an immediate proposal of marriage, this was it. All those years of trying to avoid the matrimonial noose and here he had put his head in one of his one making.

He was going to do it. He was going to ask Eugenia Talbot to marry him.

Grant waited for the usual feeling of dread that generally accompanied the mere thought of wedding bells, but instead he felt lighter, happier, and, despite the obvious contradiction, freer.

Grant sat up and rang for his valet. It was 2:00 p.m., time for an early start for the day. Today’s agenda was to get dressed, look sharp, and ask a girl to marry him. And not any girl. Genie. His Genie. He could mentally call her that now that he had decided to wed her proper. Genie who made him laugh. Genie his wife. Genie in his bed.

“Hurry man,” Grant demanded to his valet. “I have important business today!”

So unusual was that declaration that the valet came to a full stop, as if ascertaining whether Mr. Grant was really his employer or had been replaced by a changeling overnight.

Once Grant had been dressed to his satisfaction, he went first to his mother’s rooms. Rummaging through her jewelry boxes, he found what he was looking for. His mother had once shown him a collection of rings that had been in the family. Many were beautiful and could be used as an engagement ring. There was one kept in a small, wooden box hundreds of years old. It was a simple band of braided gold, silver, and steel, symbolizing the union between God, a man, and a woman. According to his mother, it was a love ring only to be given to one’s true love.

Grant held the love ring for a moment, then returned it to the wooden box and chose a stunning emerald to match the earrings Genie wore. Maybe in time he would consider the love ring, for although he liked her, maybe even loved her, he felt the need to hold something back.

He paused for a moment, considering whether or not his mother and sisters would be pleased with his choice. He shook off the question. Genie was a living, breathing female; they would be ecstatic.

Grant arrived at Bremerton house looking like a man he would have laughed at only days before. He held a bouquet of flowers from his mother’s garden, a ring was in his breast pocket, and his heart was on his sleeve. How had it come to this?

And yet, for all the ridiculousness of the situation, he did not want to be anywhere but here. He was going to ask her hand in marriage. He would do it right.

Grant was shown into the drawing room where, much to his disappointment, he was met by Lady Bremerton and her daughter.

“I am here to see Miss Talbot. Is she in?” he asked politely.

“She is resting. It has been a busy morning,” said Lady Bremerton. She made no movement to call her down, and Grant sat nervously in a chair. His hands starting to sweat as he awkwardly held the flowers. He had envisioned how things would proceed when he asked for her hand. He had practiced his apology; it was a good one. Then he would tell her of his love and the things about her that he admired and all the reasons why his life would not be worth living without her.

Yet in every scenario he had imagined, Genie was at least in the room. Lady Bremerton posed an obstacle he had not considered. His reputation had not concerned him before, but it was not helping him now. Or perhaps Genie had shared with her aunt his indecent proposal? That would certainly explain the looks of hostility directed his way from Lady Bremerton.

“It was quite an evening at Almack’s last night. I hope you enjoyed the vouchers.” Grant smiled. No harm in reminding her of his contribution. “Did you fare well at the tables?”

“I do not gamble, Mr. Grant.” In other words, she lost.

“It was terribly flat last night. Perhaps I should return later when Miss Talbot is available.”

“My niece will be quite busy today,” said Lady Bremerton. “We need to start making wedding plans.”

“Wedding plans?” Grant echoed.

“Yes, perhaps you have not yet heard. Mr. Blakely proposed to Genie last night. She has invited him over today so she can formally accept his proposal. We expect him any minute.”

Grant’s stomach recoiled as if he had been sucker punched. He had to force himself to take a slow breath. “How wonderful,” he said, forcing his lips upward into what he hoped looked like a smile. “Please relay to her my best wishes for a long, happy life together. I understand now how much preparation you have before you to plan the wedding. I’ll not keep you any longer.”

Grant somehow managed to get his feet moving and walked out of the house with the false smile still plastered on his face and the flowers in his hand. It was the smile of a man who had just had his heart ripped from his chest. Grant walked around the block back to his house. He dropped the flowers in the gutter somewhere along the way.

There was only one thing to do. Grant reached for a bottle as soon as he walked in his study. He planned, quite simply, to crawl into a bottle and never come out. Last night, he had drunk enough to become stupid, but not enough to forget. He would not make that same mistake. With any luck, if he started drinking immediately, he would forget this whole day ever happened.

He grabbed a bottle and took a large swig. This way, when the servants found him crying, he could blame it on the drink. He wiped the tears from his eyes and lifted the bottle.

Twenty-seven

“I received your message, Miss Talbot,” said Mr. Blakely, entering the drawing room.

“Come, Louisa,” said Lady Bremerton, abandoning Genie to her fate. “There is something I would like to speak to you about upstairs.”

When Lady Bremerton and Louisa had removed themselves, Mr. Blakely sat next to Genie on the couch.

“Thank you for coming, sir,” said Genie. This was the right decision. It must be. What else could she do? Mr. Blakely was a nice man and their marriage would make everyone around them happy. “I would like to speak to you about accepting your proposal.”

“You have made me the happiest of men,” said Mr. Blakely with a bland smile.

“I am pleased, but I do need your help. My brother has gotten into a bit of trouble.”

“I am certain whatever it is he will land on his feet. Here, I was hoping you would say yes. These are for you.” Blakely handed her a familiar velvet box. Inside were emerald earrings.
Her
emerald earbobs. Genie stifled a gasp.

Genie held up the jewels to the light. “Where did you get these?”

Blakely shifted in his seat. “I bought them for you.”

“Did you perhaps buy them from a Mr. Smythe?”

Blakely shifted again. “How—how did you know that?”

“Mr. Smythe is actually my brother. He gave me these earlier. I wore them to Almack’s. Did you not notice?”

Blakely opened his mouth but said nothing. He clearly had not noticed.

Genie put her hand on Blakely’s sleeve. It was time to present her case for her brother. “My brother decided to come to London on holiday and took an assumed name because he wanted to pursue some amusements without our father discovering him. I know it sounds very foolish and he ought not to have done it, but he is young still. Mr. Blakely, is it you that he owes a great sum of money to?”

Mr. Blakely swallowed convulsively and said nothing. On his forehead, tiny beads of perspiration began to form. He gave a barely perceivable nod.

“Well, this is fortuitous! You see, my brother misunderstood the amounts of money he was gambling for. It is very silly I know, but he does not have anywhere near the money to pay the debt. It is very fortunate then that we will be married and of course you will forgive the debt.”

Mr. Blakely took the emeralds back and snapped the box shut. He stood and began to pace the room.

“Mr. Blakely?” asked Genie, a pit growing in her stomach.

“It is unfortunate indeed that your brother was so foolish,” said Blakely, his voice cold. “But he is responsible for his debts.”

“You would demand a debt from your own brother-in-law?”

“No, indeed I will not. But from your brother I certainly shall.”

“Mr. Blakely!”

“It is a debt of honor! Your brother should never have gambled more than he had to lose. I am not responsible for him, you hear me?” His face was red and he was breathing fast.

“My brother is young and naive. Surely you would not persecute him because of it. Surely there is some compassion in your heart, if not for him, then for me?”

“I am sorry, Miss Talbot, but I fear that I will not be able to serve as a husband and spare you from the social ruin your family clearly deserves. Your dowry could not make up for the loss of the debt which I fully intend to collect from your brother. Please do not take this personally; it is simply a matter of finances.”

“I think it is time for you to leave,” said Genie, her fists balled at her sides. She was unaccustomed to anger, so the sudden urge to do this man physical damage came as a shock.

“I wish things had transpired differently, but I do expect to be paid.”

He exited the room, leaving Genie fuming. Vile, wretched man! She followed him out to the entryway, where the butler appeared with his coat, walking stick, and top hat.

“Do allow me,” said Genie sweetly, taking the hat and walking stick from the butler. With all the rage within her, she balled up her fist and punched out the top of the hat.

“What are you doing?” demanded Blakely.

“Showing you the full extent of my appreciation for your kindness to my family.” Genie held out the stick with both hands and slammed it down on her thigh, breaking it in half.

“Are you mad?” shouted Blakely.

“Now get out, you vile snake.” Genie threw the ruined hat and the pieces of his walking stick at his feet.

“Genie!” Lady Bremerton called down from the stairs above. “What are you doing?”

“I am forcibly removing this repulsive creature from your house, Aunt Cora.”

“Genie! How could you? Mr. Blakely, there has been a misunderstanding, please don’t go!”

But go he did, and none too soon for Genie, who felt she might become sick if she looked at his cold eyes any longer. Her aunt continued to rail on behind her, but Genie tried to shut her ears.

“Of all the foolish, headstrong, stupid girls, you certainly are the worst, Eugenia Talbot. How, how could you treat me this way? Why did you chase Mr. Blakely from this house like a harpy?”

“Mr. Blakely is a hideous man, Aunt. He was only interested in marriage to me for the money and when he thought he would not get enough for his trouble, he rescinded the offer.”

“But what did you do wrong? You must have done something wrong!”

Genie walked in a daze back to the parlor and sunk into a chair exhausted. She bit her lip trying to hold back the tears. What on earth was she going to do now?

“Answer me when I am talking to you! How could you have ruined this for me?!” demanded Lady Bremerton.

“Stop, Mother!” interrupted Louisa.

Everyone looked at her. Had she actually spoken?

“Can you not see that Genie is terribly upset?” continued Louisa. “If she says he has done something horrid, then he must be a cruel man unworthy of our notice. She needs the full support of her family right now, and I for one am going to give it!”

Lady Bremerton gaped at her daughter. Genie dried her tears. It was more words strung together then she had ever heard Louisa utter.

“Come, Cousin,” said Louisa, taking charge of the situation for once. “Let us get you up to your room for a quiet rest. Mother, I suggest you start a rumor that we found Mr. Blakely unworthy of Genie and we will no longer be admitting him into our presence.”

“Yes,” said her mother sliding into a chair. “Yes, of course you are right.”

Genie walked upstairs, emboldened by a new ally at her side.

Louisa followed Genie into her bedroom and shut the door.

“Are you all right?” asked Genie.