"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.
"No, not quite. I have never spoken like that to my mother." Louisa put her hand to her forehead in an unconscious mirror of her imposing matriarch. "But I should be asking you if you are all right. What happened?"
Genie collapsed on her bed. "I have been entirely deceived by the character of Mr. Blakely."
"I thought him amiable."
"Me too, but he … Louisa please do not let this be widely known, but my brother has done something very stupid. He left Oxford for a lark, got taken advantage of at a gaming establishment, and now owes Mr. Blakely a vast sum of money. I thought Mr. Blakely would forgive the debt, but he rescinded his offer of marriage and is demanding to be paid."
"That is horrible! But perhaps I can help. How much does your brother owe?"
"Twelve thousand pounds."
Louisa said nothing for a painful minute.
"I am so sorry," said Louisa, "I could not even begin to raise that kind of money. You will need to go to my father."
Genie put her own hand on her forehead. It did seem to help when the moment called for dramatic despair. "Would he be inclined to help? I was not sure he had ever forgiven my mother for breaking their engagement."
"He does not speak of it," said Louisa. "But my mother has spoken of it to me much. I was always admonished never to do as Lady Mary had done. She has told me many times she married Lord Bremerton so her children could enjoy a high station in society. But I do not care for society life. I hate to be a disappointment, but I have not the temperament for it."
"Are you going to marry the Duke of Marchford?"
"I cannot." Louisa shook her head firmly.
"How are you going to tell your parents?"
Louisa sighed. "If I knew how, I would have done it already."
"Have you tried talking to the duke?"
"I tried at Almack's, but he talked at length about his determination to be a good husband. I did not know how to tell him that-"
"You are in love with somebody else?" asked Genie gently.
Louisa stilled, suspicion in her eyes. "How did you know?"
"I heard you and a man in the garden at Lord and Lady Devine's party. I confess, ever since, I have been trying to help bring you and Marchford to more friendly terms."
Louisa nodded slowly, as if processing the information. "I understand. It would be easier if I could love the current duke, but I do not. One cannot always chose whom she loves."
Genie was quiet for a moment. "Very true."
"Perhaps if it would help, I could support you when you ask Father to help pay off your brother's debts."
Genie cringed. "I should hate to do it at all, but I suppose alone would be worse. I could support you talking to him about your engagement."
"It is a plan," said Louisa with a tentative smile.
***
"Twelve thousand pounds?" Lord Bremerton's face grew so red Genie feared for his health. "You want me to pull your idiot brother out of debt to the tune of twelve thousand pounds?"
"Young people do make unwise choices. We should not fault them for it," said Louisa in a small voice.
"Yes, they do, my dear," said Lord Bremerton. "And I can only assume asking me to dissolve the engagement to the Duke of Marchford must be one of those unwise choices. You will marry the duke as planned. And Eugenia, your brother's financial embarrassments are not my concern. Good day!"
The ladies walked from Lord Bremerton's study with shared low spirits.
"Thank you for trying," sighed Genie.
"And thank you as well," said Louisa in a soft voice. "Genie, your mother eloped with your father. Is she happy?"
"Yes, quite happy I believe."
"That is all I needed to know." Louisa gave her a warm embrace. "I am glad I got to know you."
"And I, you." A question hung on Genie's lips, unasked. She already knew the answer.
***
"Did you give the Talbot chit the information about the moneylender?" asked the Candyman.
"Aye, sir," said Jem.
"I do wish we'd been able to collect her dowry before walking away, but those damn emeralds tipped our hand. No matter, I shall more than make up for that disappointment. Follow her wherever she goes. Make sure she gets here."
"Maybe she'll go somewheres else?" Jem had to jump fast to avoid the Candyman's backhand.
"Just see that she gets here. I'll know what to do with her when she arrives."
Twenty-eight
None of the options before Genie were acceptable. The only thing that mattered now was saving her brother. If her family could not or would not help her, it was going to be up to her. A moneylender was an unpleasant idea, particularly since she had no way to pay the money back. But if she left her brother to face his own fate, she would lose him.
She could go to this moneylender and at least discover his terms. Perhaps there might be some way? Genie could not think of any but felt it was worth attempting. She would hate to think of her brother being lost if there was anything she could have done to prevent it.
Genie told her aunt she needed to rest, an idea that met with stony approval. After a few minutes, Genie slipped out the back way and asked Sammy the groom if he would call her a hack. He insisted he take her in the town coach, and she graciously accepted. When she arrived at the address in Piccadilly, she paused at the storefront. It was not what she expected.
"Got yourself a sweet tooth, Miss Talbot?" asked the groom with a smile.
"I suppose I do." Genie mentally reviewed the address given her by the urchin. She thought this was what he said.
The storefront was little more than a door squished between two other shops. The door was painted dark brown with the words Chocolate Shoppe painted in gold above it. When Jem had said the moneylender was called the Candyman, she thought this was another one of his odd street euphemisms she could not understand. She had not expected an actual chocolate shop.
"I just have a few purchases to make. I won't be but a trice!" Genie kept her tone lighter than she felt.
Genie marched to the door and opened it before she could lose what little courage she had left. The shop was dark, with two small, round tables and chairs but no customers. The walls were lined with dark wooden shelves. On one side were boxes of cocoa to make hot chocolate. On the other were candy sweets displayed on platters. There were sweetmeats, bonbons, toffee, humbugs, fondant sculpted into animals, and boxes of marzipan. It was every child's dream, yet it was eerily quiet in the store.
"Good afternoon, miss," said a young boy at the counter who could not have been more than ten years old. He wore a dirty apron over his thin frame.
"Good afternoon," said Genie, walking toward him. "I am looking for the Candyman."
"You be Miss Talbot?"
"Yes," said Genie, startled the child knew her name.
"Come this way, miss. The Candyman has been expecting you."
A chill ran down her spine, but she would not allow herself to be easily cowed.
The lad led her to a side door concealed in the paneling. It opened to a dim room, even darker than the store.
"Come in," said a man with a low, gravelly voice. He was sitting at a table, almost entirely in the dark. Resembling an undertaker in appearance, he wore all black with a hat pulled low, concealing his face.
"Did a young boy tell you I was coming?" asked Genie.
"Indeed he did. Helpful lad, Jem," said the man in an oddly low tone, almost as if he was concealing his true voice.