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Wedding In Springtime(56)

By:Amanda Forester


The noise and bustle of the ball subsided and several hundred of the  most notable people in the land turned their attention to the duke. This  was the moment for which they had been waiting. A salacious rumor being  whispered was that Lady Louisa had run away, but most in the ballroom  were waiting to hear the official news from Marchford himself.

Marchford resisted the urge to adjust his cravat. He prided himself in  maintaining his composure no matter what the circumstances, yet this  many eyes gave him pause-especially when he was not quite sure how to  express himself without inviting scandal. He decided to start with the  mundane. "I have behind me a project into which I have put a great deal  of personal effort and from which I have derived a great deal of  personal satisfaction.

"This new garden boasts several new species that have traveled here from  such remote places as Spain, Italy, and even the Far East. I am  particularly pleased with the flowers which have flooded the gardens  with a heavenly aroma. I do hope all of you will have an opportunity to  stroll the gardens to appreciate the beauty of the natural world."

Marchford took a deep breath. It was time. "But first, I would like to  say a few words to some important guests. It is my pleasure that the  Earl of Bremerton could be here with his wife and their daughter, Lady  Louisa."         

     



 

On cue, Penelope opened a side door and out walked Lord Bremerton and  his family with expressions more appropriate for a public hanging than a  society ball. Marchford had convinced them to pretend approval for  their daughter to avoid scandal, but they were none too happy about it.

"As many of you are aware, our families have long been close. We have  supported each other through times of great joy and great loss, and our  two houses have always maintained close ties. Over the years, I have  come to feel for Louisa as a brother would feel for his sister.  Therefore, it gives me great joy to announce the marriage of Lady Louisa  and Dr. Roberts."

A collective gasp filled the room.

Marchford smiled as if he had not just heard the stunned shock of his  friends and relations. Penelope ushered Dr. Roberts out the side door  and he walked to stand beside Louisa.

"I am greatly pleased with this union    ," said the dowager, joining the  nervous couple before the crowd. "I wish them great joy."

Marchford motioned for the servers to come forward with the champagne.  "If you will all charge your glasses, I would like to propose a toast to  the happy couple." The guests were silent as they accepted flutes of  champagne, as if waiting to see the crowd's reaction to such startling  news.

"To my dear friends, Lady Louisa and Dr. Roberts. May your union     be  long and prosperous. I truly wish you every happiness." Marchford  saluted the tense couple with his glass and took a small sip as the  crowd began to stir.

"And now, my friends," Marchford regained their focus. It would not do  to let the gossips begin their commentary now. "Let me present to you  the main attraction and the primary reason why I have invited you all to  this ball." Marchford glanced at Pen, who gave him a small nod.  Everything was ready. Marchford pasted on a smile and raised his voice.  "And now for the unveiling of what I believe to be my finest work."

Marchford gave the signal and the curtain fell.

The ballroom was once again filled with a loud, collective gasp.





Thirty-seven


Genie prepared for the ball in Marchford house. Runners had been sent to  collect her gown and she had been handed over to efficient ladies'  maids who ensured she was bathed, dressed, and sparkling (thanks to a  few loaned baubles from the dowager). Genie felt she should be more  tired and upset, given all she had endured that day, but instead all she  could feel was relieved.

She had received a note from Grant that he had found her brother and  informed him that the debt was eliminated. Her brother was safe. She was  safe. Grant was safe. Those things alone were enough to convince her it  had been a good day.

The guests had arrived, but she remained upstairs and out of sight.  Rumors had spread fast and wide about strange goings on in the Bremerton  household, and though she doubted anyone could imagine a falsehood more  inconceivable than the truth, she did not look forward to her  reintroduction to society.

Instead of heading down to the ballroom, Genie went up the back  staircase to the servants' quarters. Marchford had allowed Jemima to  stay the night until she could be given over to Grant's housekeeper in  the morning. She wanted to say good-bye to the child. Little did she  know, when she showed mercy to the urchin in the street, the child would  later save her life.

"Thems some nice sparklers," commented the young Miss Jemima. She was  sitting up in a plain, wooden bed, unrecognizable in a white night rail  after a bath and a significant scrubbing. Now that she was no longer  concerned with concealing her identity, she had accepted the bath with  zeal.

"The necklace is pretty. A loan for the night from Her Grace," said Genie.

"And don't you worry none. I won't nick the lob. I'm done with that lay."

"Yes, well, if I understand you correctly, it would be good of you to refrain from stealing in the future."

"No point in it anymore. Candyman's dead, right?"

"Yes, well. The less said about that unhappy incident the better."

"I'ves seen a man been killed before, but never one I wanted to be  killed. I'm dang sure I'm demned for it too, but it's just hows I feel."

"No more talk of this, Miss Jemima. If you are going to improve your  situation, you must learn to speak with a bit more … " Genie paused,  considering the right word.

"No more thieves cant ye mean. I knowed the ways I talk ain't right. But I just don't know the right way."

"You must try to learn it from the housekeeper. Do you think you can be a quick study?"

"Oh yes, ma'am!" Jem smiled brightly, her shocking red hair, which had  emerged from the wash in bold curls, bobbing about her head for  emphasis. "Why, when the Candyman teached me the art of the knuckle, I  took to it real natural. Could nick a dummie and thimble off a flash  cove wi'out him a'knowing what's what."         

     



 

Genie gave her charge a weak smile. "That's lovely," she responded without conviction.

The orphan's smile never faded, so certain she was to please Genie.

"Now, let's get you to sleep." Genie tucked in the rescued urchin.

"Never thought I'd see the day I'd sleep in a bed. A real bed!" Jemima  snuggled under the white comforter and ran her hands along the coverlet.  "And a pillow too. Bless me, it's like being in heaven, yes it is. I  wish my mama were alive to rest next to me. She woulda loved this, just  fer one night even. I feel right set up for life!"

It was a simple bed, but scrawny Jemima was almost entirely swallowed  up, her red curls in a sea of crisp white the only evidence of her  presence. Genie smoothed the curls and gave the large-eyed waif a smile.  "Go to sleep now."

Genie extinguished the lantern and made her way out of the room to the  hall before the first tear fell. What a sad life for the poor girl, who  had never even slept in a bed. She made her way quietly down the back  stairs, to the corridor leading to her guest room.

"Something the matter?" Grant's voice was rich and smooth, sending  shivers shimmering down her spine. He was in shadow, leaning against the  wall as if he had been waiting for her.

"No, well, yes, I suppose. I was sad for that poor little girl who has  known nothing but hardship. I feel I must look after her and had the  thought to take her home with me, but I am not sure my parents would  quite approve. I expect they were hoping I'd return with a husband, not a  street urchin."

"If they thought that, they could not have known your kind heart. No one  could know you and be surprised if you came home with a passel of  orphans."

"Oh! Do you think I could bring home them all?"

"No, my dear. But it does you credit to consider it."

"I'm not sure it does those orphans any good."

"It has been a trying day. Perhaps we can tease ourselves with this problem later?"

Genie was flooded with a warmth that pinched at her cheeks. He had  spoken of them as "we" and her response was ridiculously swift. "Yes, of  course."

"Something I should like to show you," said Grant with a smile, stepping  into the light and offering his arm. He was, as always, a fine figure,  though more refined in his choice of color pallet, with a blue  superfine, double-breasted coat and white silk waistcoat over white  breeches.

Genie accepted his proffered arm. For good or ill, she would go with him  anywhere. They went down the staircase together, and then, instead of  turning right to descend the main stairwell into the ballroom, they  turned left and Grant whisked her down the servants' stairs.