"Sorry will not do you any good, nor will speaking to a known rake," chastised her aunt.
"A known rake?"
"Mr. Grant. I saw you speaking with him. He will do you no good."
"I know that is true," said Genie with a flush.
"Oh, what is to be done? You are ruined, ruined for sure. My reputation is in tatters. There is nothing else for it; you must be married. And quick!"
Two
Eugenia had not taken more than two steps inside her aunt's Mayfair townhouse before she was given an unwanted command.
"Go change into something less conspicuous," demanded her aunt. "We must speak with the Duchess of Marchford. She will know what to do."
Genie would rather have hidden under her bed or in a wardrobe for the rest of the London season, but she had caused enough disgrace for one day and would not add to her problems by being disobedient. So an hour later, she was back in the lumbering coach with her aunt, the Lady Bremerton, and her cousin, the Lady Louisa Munthgrove.
For the outing, Genie chose a plain white muslin dress with little adornment. She hoped it would help her blend into the background. Lady Bremerton, a decidedly plump woman, made the most of her natural assets in a lilac, formfitting half dress that revealed a bit more décolletage than Genie's country sensibilities found appropriate for social calls. Lady Louisa shared her mother's dark honey hair and rosy cheeks but on a smaller frame. More modest, as befitted an unmarried lady, she wore a smart blue spencer over her white muslin dress, with a sea of ruffles and lace frills at the bottom of the skirt.
Along the short journey, Genie's aunt continued to dwell on the irreparable damage Genie had done to her social standing. Naturally, the ball in her honor would have to be canceled, and any hope of receiving invitations was lost. Such was the magnitude of Genie's offense in the eyes of her aunt, that Genie was relieved to arrive finally at their destination.
The coach came to a stop with a jerk in front of the Marchford mansion, situated prominently in Grosvenor Square. Remembering not to gape at the impressive architecture, Genie followed her aunt and cousin as they were helped out of the coach by the groomsman.
"Thank you, Sam," said Genie as the groomsman offered his arm to help her from the coach. This won her a stern look from her aunt.
"It will not do for you to appear overly friendly with the help," whispered her aunt as they climbed the stairs to Marchford mansion. "The coachman was merely doing what he is paid to do."
Since Genie had only been in London a few weeks, she understood her aunt was trying to help her appear less countrified, yet Town manners left a lot to be desired in her humble estimation.
They were ushered through the tall doorway by an imposing butler who informed them in the gravest of tones that the dowager duchess was not at home but was expected shortly.
"We will wait for the dowager in her sitting room," declared Lady Bremerton with authority.
Genie was momentarily surprised by her aunt's boldness until she remembered Louisa was engaged to be married to the Duke of Marchford. She assumed, since they were family friends, allowances for familiarity must be made, yet Louisa appeared distinctly uncomfortable, clutching her work bag of embroidery to her chest like a shield.
Louisa's engagement to the duke was a long-standing arrangement. The duke's recent return from working with the Foreign Office in Cadiz for the past three years had raised hopes that a date for the nuptials would soon be set. Indeed, Aunt Cora spoke of little else.
They were invited to sit in an elegant drawing room, lavishly appointed in blue and gold, with artwork Genie identified as an original Titian and a da Vinci hanging on the walls. Light poured in from large windows, giving the room a warm hue. The ornately carved furnishings were of obvious quality, and everything was neat and bright and polished to a gleaming shine.
"This is a lovely room. The light is good for stitching," Genie said to Louisa, who was an accomplished embroiderer. Instead of a smile, Louisa's shoulders sagged a bit and she merely nodded in response. Genie decided her shy cousin must be overwhelmed with the prospect of being mistress of this grand house, an intimidation she could well understand.
"Yes, Louisa will do quite nicely in this room, though there is also a small ladies' study upstairs which has even better light," said Lady Bremerton.
Genie nodded in response, noting that her aunt often answered for Louisa.
"I do hope we can get to the duchess before she hears the story from someone else," said Lady Bremerton, making herself comfortable on the settee. "I should hate to think that Genie's behavior should have any negative effect on you, my dear."
"How could it?" asked Louisa. "It was a little thing, soon forgot." Louisa gave Genie a tentative smile, which Genie quickly returned. Though cousins, they had never met until a few weeks ago. Louisa's naturally reserved style made growing acquainted a slow process. Her support at this moment of Genie's greatest defeat meant a lot.
"Soon forgot?" Aunt Cora tsked at Louisa like a naughty child. "I should think not. Why, this story will circle London before the day is done, mark my words. I only hope it should not make the duke think ill of you."
"Do you think he would break the engagement over this incident?" Louisa's eyes went wide.
"No chance of that," replied her mother. "I saw to the engagement contract myself. He will not be wiggling out of it no matter what he should like to do."
"I should not like to marry a man who does not wish to marry me," murmured Louisa.
"It makes very little difference either way," retorted Lady Bremerton. "What would you do? Follow your own fickle fancy of the moment? We have seen today the fruits of that decision."
Genie let out a whoosh of air as if she had been punched in the gut. Aunt Cora could never forget that her sister, Genie's mother, the infamous Lady Mary, had gone against the wishes of her family, broke an arranged engagement, and eloped with a gentleman farmer. In her aunt's eyes, Genie would always be the result of the unholy union between an earl's daughter and a lowly commoner. Genie's presentation at court was supposed to redeem her, but she had only confirmed the whispers of her bad blood.
Men's voices were suddenly heard in the hall, and a tall man in a superbly cut dark blue coat entered the drawing room, instantly commanding attention. His broad shoulders, aristocratic nose, and assured presence gave Genie no doubt that she was in the presence of the Duke of Marchford.
"Marchford, my dear!" exclaimed Lady Bremerton, rising from the settee. "It is wonderful to see you. You have been so busy lately we have had hardly any time together."
"Yes, sorry. So busy, just getting back in Town, you can hardly imagine," said the duke, slightly taken aback to find Lady Bremerton and his intended in his drawing room.
"Certainly, we understand, do we not, Louisa? But we hope to see you much more often in the future." Lady Bremerton beamed in a manner not shared by the stoic Marchford nor the shy Louisa. They acknowledged each other in silence.
"Marchford, have you visitors?" Another well-dressed man sauntered into the drawing room. He had changed his silk breeches for a nankeen pair that so hugged his muscular thighs Genie averted her eyes. It was none other than Mr. Grant.
"Hello! We meet again!" Much to her horror, Mr. Grant walked up to Genie directly. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you are not on your way to Botany Bay," said Mr. Grant, his impish silver-blue eyes gleaming. "Marchford, I insist you introduce me to this divine creature at once!"
Marchford, having yet to meet Genie, confessed he was at a loss, and Lady Bremerton was forced to make the introductions, though her reluctance was clear.
"Miss Talbot." Grant bowed over Genie's hand. "How much better you look without your plumage."
"I could say the same for your purple britches," Genie said sweetly. She had endured enough jabs for one day.
"Just so, just so!" laughed Grant. "You have a real spitfire for a niece, Lady Bremerton."
"Yes, how true," agreed Lady Bremerton with a smile that was not so sweet.
"Have you come to visit my grandmother?" asked Marchford, businesslike and direct. He took a seat farthest from his intended, who for her part focused on her embroidery and never raised her eyes.
"Yes," answered Lady Bremerton. "Your butler informed us she was expected shortly."
Marchford nodded in agreement and gave a quick glance at the door. "She was attending a wedding this morning. I trust she will return soon."
"Perhaps she is attending the breakfast afterward."