Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady(50)
“I only came to ask that you leave my cousin alone.” Genny perched herself on the edge of a chair. There was no sense in getting comfortable, she wasn’t staying overly long.
Lady Fallon yawned rudely. “She’d be better without Mr. Warren, you know.”
“Whom my cousin should marry is not your decision to make.”
“I’ll be saving her from a long life filled with nothing but misery.”
“Do we even know the same man who is courting my cousin?” Genny frowned. “He’s been nothing but kind.”
Lady Fallon picked up a fan and flicked it open to fan her face. “They always are in the beginning. It’s how they lure in young pliable brides.”
“So it’s your cynical nature that led you to the simple decision to change the course of my cousin’s life.”
“Not precisely, but I’m bored with this conversation.” Lady Fallon leaned forward. “Now tell me what Leo told you.”
“Why should I? Is it not enough that he’s told me everything? Shouldn’t you feel some sort of regret for your part in this?”
“I feel nothing actually.”
Genny closed her mouth. What exactly was the countess referring to? Certainly not her cousin’s situation. She leaned back against the cushioned seat. She might have to approach this matter differently. “Why did you do it?”
“You don’t know me, Miss Camden. Why would you care what my reasons are?”
“I suppose I don’t need to hear your reasoning.” Genny knew that once her purpose was stated, the countess might be less than friendly. “I want reassurance that you’ll leave my cousin alone.”
“I have a suspicion that Lady Charlotte won’t need me to persuade her to not marry Mr. Warren.” The countess picked up a glass half full of champagne and twirled the flute around in circles. “Not only is Mr. Warren a complete bore, he’s an imbecile.”
Genny pinched her lips together, knowing that a rebuttal would probably only have Lady Fallon continuing her tirade. She stood from the chair. Her trip here was for nothing. This woman would never listen to what Genny had to say, not with open ears and heart as she’d hoped.
Lady Fallon lowered her fan and eyed her. “Have I already frightened you off?”
Should she admit she had? “It does me no good to talk to a brick wall.”
The dowager countess laughed. Her hand clapped against her chest as she fell back on the settee, gales of laughter flowing from her.
“Calculating, frosty, degenerate, harlot, charlatan, and player. Those are the typical choice words society showers down on me.” Lady Fallon shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever been likened to a brick wall.”
Genny just stared at the woman. She was mad, and it had never occurred to her before that the dowager countess might not be in possession of all her faculties.
Backing up a few steps, Genny said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”
“Don’t let me frighten you off.”
The way the dowager said it made Genny momentarily forget she was in the lair of someone who had orchestrated her cousin’s downfall, and through happenstance, Genny’s reputation.
There was a split second where she wanted to give this woman the benefit of the doubt and offer friendship to that lonely voice. But only a split second.
“You are the chaperone Hayden mentioned, so I imagine you are needed back at your duties.”
Genny put her shoulders back. She would not cower because she’d been ruined. “Was…” She held her head high. “I was the chaperone.”
“Oh, my wicked ears hear a story in the making.” The dowager’s interest was piqued, and she sat up with renewed interest in Genny. “What has changed your circumstance?”
What did she have to lose in telling Lady Fallon the truth? The gossip was sure to make it back to London in a matter of days, if it hadn’t already. “Lord Barrington.”
Lady Fallon’s sharp gaze pierced right through Genny as though searching for the truth with a mere look.
“So that is what has occupied my friend’s attention this past month.”
“A ruse, I assure you. One that finally played out in his favor.”
Lady Fallon’s head tilted to the side. “You have nowhere to go, do you?”
“Does it matter?” Genny responded defensively.
“Perhaps I’m offering a bone.” Lady Fallon put her feet on the floor and set her champagne on the side table; probably a good thing since it was far too early to imbibe. “Don’t you think you should consider nibbling if only to humor me?”
“No.” Genny clasped her hands to keep from pulling at the string on her reticule. She’d expected her meeting with Lady Fallon to be awkward, just not quite this awkward. “I think it most unwise. I only came—”
“To persuade me onto the righteous, more acceptable, and sanctified path I should be following?”
“No. I only wanted you to leave Charlotte alone. She is my closest family—”
“And yet you’ve been locked out of her life and labeled a harlot.”
“I am no harlot.” Genny was sick to death of being called that vile name. “And I see my time here is wasted.”
Genny made her way to the door. Just before she reached it, the dowager suddenly rushed forward and blocked the exit.
“Where will you go?” Lady Fallon asked with a pensive look.
“Your moral obligation to me is nonexistent. Please, let me by.”
Lady Fallon didn’t move. “Is it hard to believe that I might have changed my ways?”
“I can’t see why.” Genny crossed her arms stubbornly over her waist. “Shouldn’t you be gloating at your achievement?”
“To do so would mean I indulge in life freely.” The dowager set her shoulder against the door frame. “Sad to say, nothing comes free in life. Especially mine.”
“You don’t enjoy a certain amount of freedom then?”
The countess ignored her question. “You should stay. I have so many empty rooms that it would be a shame to not use them before I’m kicked out of my own house.”
Genny looked at the countess for a long moment. She’d nearly forgotten that she was penniless and had nothing left from her marriage.
Was the dowager trying to make amends with her? “Are you feeling remorse for putting me into a destitute situation similar to what you find yourself in?”
“Not at all.” She moved away from the door so that Genny could leave if she so chose. “But I’d like the company and I imagine Leo will come looking for you. And if you are not in my possession, I’ll not know how to locate you.”
Lady Fallon was the oddest woman Genny had ever met. First she showed no compunction in planning to destroy her cousin’s path in life, and now she was extending an olive branch to Genny because she’d inadvertently ruined her instead of Charlotte.
“Why should you care?”
“Because Leo is my friend. And he has remained a devoted friend despite what the rags have printed about me.” The countess looked vulnerable with that admittance.
The door was open should she wish to leave, so why didn’t Genny budge? “Leo’s no better than you.”
“Prejudice is but one form of ignorance, Miss Camden.” Lady Fallon crossed her arms in front of her and tapped her fingers on one arm. “Now, breakfast is being served in one hour. Shall I ask the cook to prepare two dishes?”
Why not? Genny asked herself. Staying with Lady Fallon would give her time to find decent accommodations of her own. And though she wanted to make an enemy of this woman, she couldn’t. The dowager was—yet she wasn’t—a contradiction to everything printed about her.
Lifting her reticule, Genny placed it on a chair. “There is a carriage outside waiting for my direction. I need to tell him that I’ve found temporary accommodations.”
Lady Fallon motioned to the door. As Genny went out to talk to Oliver, she felt as if she’d formed—not a friendship per se—but an odd alliance with the countess.
Chapter 23
Oh, the betting books are so full of the best fodder! When one can be amused by the actions and failures of others, what does it say about society today? Yet, without the characters that rely upon gossip, wherever would your reliable gossip columnist be?
The Mayfair Chronicles, August 9, 1846
Leo hadn’t been his normal self since arriving home two days ago. Tristan hadn’t been in residence so he couldn’t settle that old score. And he didn’t want to face Jez just yet.
To say that he had lived the life of a recluse since arriving in Town might be an understatement. Not once had he left his house. Nor had anyone bothered to visit since his knocker was put back on his door.
And in all the time since he’d been home, he hadn’t come up with a decent plan to win Genny back. The house party would be over, and everyone returning to London over the next couple of days, so he had better come up with a plan soon.
Should he formally call upon Genny or even Lord Ponsley and state his intention to court and marry her? The great flaw in that plan was that Genny might refuse to see him. However, that did not mean he would give up his suit.
Marks tied his cravat and helped him into his jacket. Fresh air always cleared his mind, so he stepped out the door for a walk in the park. This afternoon he was meeting with Hayden at the club. Perhaps his friend would have a few ideas for winning back Genny’s affections.