Wedding In Springtime(31)

Pen stopped and took another slow sip of tea.

"Your sister refused him?" asked Genie, impatient to hear the end of the story.

"His proposal was for her to become his mistress, not his wife."

"Oh." Genie sat back in her chair, deflated. "I see."

"He is quite charming, but I thought you should know."

"Thank you," murmured Genie. She knew the warning was for the best, but  Pen had poured freezing water all over her nice, warm dream.

"This story is not widely known," said Pen.

"You can be assured of my discretion," said Genie. She really did not  wish to talk about it. The dream of Mr. Grant was best forgotten.

"Mr. Blakely," announced the butler at the door of the drawing room.

Mr. Blakely entered the room in a double-breasted coat of dark blue,  light trousers, and tan kid gloves. He might not be as showy as Grant,  but he was not an unattractive man. He bowed his apology for being late  to the dowager, with an excuse of a prior engagement. His manners were  polished and pleasing, Genie decided.

Penelope vacated the chair next to Genie and Mr. Blakely was drawn to it.

"I will make my apologies to you too, Miss Talbot," said Mr. Blakely,  taking her hand in his gloved one and giving her a slight bow.

"Not at all," said Genie. "I am pleased you were able to come."

Mr. Blakely's mouth twitched upward, in what Genie guessed was a smile.  "I must thank you, Miss Talbot. On your advice I visited the British  Museum. I can see now why you recommended it. I found the visit most  educational."

"Was it? I am pleased. The guidebook said it was not to be missed."

"Have you not visited yourself?"

"No, not yet." Genie's aunt laughed at the idea of visiting the museum. It was apparently not how young ladies spent their time.         

     



 

"Perhaps I could be your escort sometime," suggested Blakely. "I should  like to visit the museum again soon, and I could not ask for more  pleasant company."

Genie smiled and noted with pleasure that Mr. Blakely looked her in the  eye, not down the front of her gown. "I should like that very much. My  guidebook lists many sights in London that should not be missed."

"A guidebook sounds sensible. Perhaps I could avail myself of it?"

"By all means! I am glad to hear you say it. You cannot imagine the  grief I have endured for that guidebook. My aunt threatened to burn it  if she ever saw it again. I have learned it is not considered  fashionable."

"I should not like to think the opinion of others should prevent me from enjoying the history or architecture of this city."

"Exactly what I think! Thank you, Mr. Blakely. I am so glad to know I am not the only one who thinks this way."

"I should go find the gentlemen and pay my respects to my host," said  Mr. Blakely. "I expect to return soon." He gave her a warmer smile and  bowed his exit from the room.

In his absence, Genie was the object of four knowing smiles from the ladies in the drawing room.

"That was promising," commented the dowager with a cunning grin.

"I do hope something definitive can be arranged quickly," worried Lady  Bremerton. "If Genie could at least be betrothed respectably, her value  would increase and perhaps we could start receiving more invitations. I  do not dare ask for a voucher to Almack's for her, not with that Jersey  gel as a patroness."

"An invitation to Almack's would be just the thing," said Penelope. "If  the patronesses of Almack's endorse her, she must be accepted by society  at large."

"But how could this miracle be made to occur?" asked Lady Bremerton.  "Surely you have been in London long enough to know Almack's is the most  exclusive club in London. With Genie's reputation, how could it be made  to come to pass?"

"I have seen the most atrocious behavior be tolerated and even  celebrated by society. The only hope is to show her as an original,"  said Penelope.

"Quite right!" said the dowager, rapping the floor with her cane. "Never  show fear in society. The gossips will eat you alive. Confidence is  what you need, gel."

"I shall certainly try," said Genie with a smile. "If only to please you."

"No need to try to win my favor," said the dowager, but she nodded in approval. "What you need is a good man."

"And here I am," stated Mr. Grant, entering the room with an air of  style and grace only he could muster. "I do not know of what you are  speaking, but it is a conversation in which I must have a share. Or  perhaps," he said with a wicked wink to the dowager duchess, "you would  prefer my absence so you can talk about me at your leisure."

"Mr. Grant, you are incorrigible as usual," said the dowager, and Genie could almost swear she winked in return.

Genie's heartbeat quickened at the unexpected arrival of Mr. Grant. He  was dressed impeccably in a sage green coat of glistening superfine, a  mustard waistcoat with exquisite detailing, and matching breeches so  skin tight it was positively indecent. Genie could not help but drink  him in with her eyes. He was a dreadful rogue to be sure, but when he  entered a room, she could not look away.

"I would not dare to contradict you, Your Grace." Mr. Grant gave a bow  that put every other man on the planet to shame. At least, that is how  Genie saw it.

"I have come to return to you Mr. Blakely, who found me lounging in the  study," continued Grant, and only now did Genie notice that Mr. Blakely  stood behind him. The rest of the men chose that moment to enter the  room and the dowager gave instructions for tables to be set for cards.

"We were speaking of Almack's, Mr. Grant," said Pen. "Have you been this season?"

"Ah, Almack's. I have not graced their halls this season."

"I should say not," said Marchford.

"You do not care for Almack's?" asked Penelope.

"Almack's is fine, but the matchmaking interference I could do without,"  said the duke. "The last time we entered those hallowed halls, Mr.  Grant was accosted by a flurry of females. His arrival seemed to spark  hope in the breasts of matchmaking mamas who decided his very presence  in the ballroom was a sign he was searching for a wife. It was actually  quite amusing."

"I found it less amusing," said Grant.

"Was it so bad they no longer issue you vouchers?" asked the dowager.         

     



 

"Obtaining a voucher is not the difficult part," said Grant.

"Those vouchers are quite exclusive," said Pen. "I doubt they would issue one to Miss Talbot."

"Is it a voucher you need?" asked Grant. "I confess when you said you  needed a man, I was hoping for something a little more exciting."

"I am sorry to disappoint you," said Genie.

"Not at all! Which day should you like to attend? I shall promise that  your vouchers will be delivered to you. And in payment, you can offer me  the first dance."

"I promise," said Genie, warming to the idea. Dancing again with Mr.  Grant, being held in his arms …  her ardor was cooled by a pointed glare  from her aunt.

"Can you do this?" asked the dowager. "Lady Jersey will surely object."

"But I am on friendly terms with Lady Jersey and close with the princess. Leave the worries to me."

Despite Genie's interest in sitting next to Mr. Grant, she was firmly  placed in the center of a group of men, while Grant was corralled into  making up a fourth for whist with Lord and Lady Bremerton and the  duchess. Genie felt sorry for the man, but he accepted his fate with  equanimity and even made staunch, old Lord Bremerton break forth into  laughter.

Genie survived a dull game of lottery tickets. Her only consolation was  in Mr. Blakely's confidence that he also was not an enthusiast of the  game and would have preferred a more challenging pastime or even reading  a good book, to which Genie could only agree. The game was so simple  for Mr. Blakely, he did not even have to remove his gloves during the  play.

After cards, Genie noted that the dowager gave the duke several pointed  looks and a glare so intense she would not have been surprised to see  Marchford suddenly burst into flames. With a stifled sigh, Marchford  stood and asked for the attention of his family and friends. "Lady  Louisa, we have long had an understanding between us. I would like now  to make this betrothal official by making a formal announcement and  celebrating it with a ball."

Louisa's eyes widened and her lips were pressed into a straight line.

"Oh yes!" shrieked Lady Bremerton, her excitement getting the best of  her. "That would be lovely! A grand ball, how delightful!" It was a  vindication to Lady Bremerton, whose friends were beginning to talk that  the duke would never come up to scratch.

Lady Bremerton began to talk of dates with the dowager, with the promise  they would get together soon. Marchford took Lady Louisa's hand and  bestowed upon her a chaste kiss. Genie could have sworn she saw Louisa  snatch her hand back.