A Wedding In Springtime(112)
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.”