A Wedding In Springtime(46)

Genie floated to the sitting room, where she was expected to keep her aunt and cousin company. She chose a comfortable chair and sighed, sitting back into the cushions. Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant. Mrs. Eugenia Grant.

“Genie!”

Genie snapped back to the room and sat straight. Her aunt was frowning at her again, nothing new there, but Louisa was looking at her with a curious expression.

“Are you acquainted with a Mrs. Grant?” asked Louisa, giving Genie a pointed look.

Had she spoken the name out loud? Heat rose to her cheeks as she faced her aunt. “Y-yes. Mrs. Grant, an old friend I was just thinking of her. What shall we be eating tonight, Aunt Cora?”

Lady Bremerton, who prided herself on her table, could not resist launching into a detailed description of the dinner, and so the topic was changed. Halfway through the description of the lobster pâté, Genie heard a slight tapping on the window behind her. She turned and glimpsed a figure in the window before it ducked from sight.

“What was that, Genie?” asked her aunt.

“I am not sure,” said Genie, but something told her the rapping at the window was for her. Her aunt launched into details of braised ham, and Genie once again heard the furtive rapping. She did not turn around this time. She knew someone was trying to get her attention.

Her heart raced. Was it Grant? Perhaps he had returned to continue where they had left off under the tree? Genie politely excused herself and walked to the front door. She felt odd in doing so and realized she had actually never opened the front door herself.

She opened the door slowly, her heart pounding hard. Who was it? There on the front stoop was… no one.

“Can I help you, Miss Talbot?”

Genie turned with a start, putting her hand over her chest as if to keep her heart inside her rib cage. “You startled me.”

The butler said nothing, his polished, smooth exterior revealing nothing of his true emotions. “Did you wish to go out?”

“No, I thought I heard someone at the door.” It was the wrong thing to say, she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth.

The butler stood very tall and very straight, the very picture of pained pride. “I do expect I can answer the door, Miss Talbot.”

“Yes, of course you can. My mistake.” Genie hurried past the offended butler and headed back to her room. She needed to get herself under control. What was the matter with her? Mr. Grant was very diverting, and he might steal a kiss under a willow tree, but he had no intentions toward marriage. She needed to push him from her mind.

A tapping sound startled her out of her revelry, particularly since her bedroom was on the third floor. She peeked through the curtains cautiously and was relieved not to find someone hanging onto the window ledge.

Plink! A small rock bounced off her window. She flung back her curtains. Perhaps Mr. Grant had come to see her after all. Opening the window, she saw a small figure cloaked in shadows.

“Oi! Milady!” called the figure, a shape much too small to be Grant. “Dub the jigger fer me!”

“Jem?” asked Genie. Was it the young boy who had tried to steal Pen’s bandbox? “Whatever are you doing?”

“Open the side door fer me, miss!”

Genie hustled down to the servants’ entrance, being careful to stay out of sight. She opened the door and let in the errant Jem, his long hair a tangled mess, his feet still without shoes.

“I gots a message fer ya.” The lad puffed out his chest.

“Who is this from and how have you come to be a messenger?”

“I don’t know the swell. But he found me watching the house fer ya and tipped me a crown to give you this.” The urchin handed Genie a folded letter.

“Watching for me? Whatever for?”

“Yous was right nice to me,” said the lad with simple admiration in his eyes.

Genie’s heart was softened instantly to the child. Had he never known kindness? She gave him a smile and turned to the letter. The note was brief and won a smile from Genie.

“Does ya have a reply? I’m supposed to wait fer a reply.”

“Yes, tell your gentleman friend I shall meet him tomorrow. Now tell me Jem, have you eaten supper tonight?”

Jem’s eyes got large and he licked his lips. “No, milady,” he whispered.

“Let us do something about that, shall we?”

Jem followed Genie into the kitchen. At once, Genie knew she did not belong downstairs. This was the servants’ territory. Yet she knew she must feed the child, so she walked bravely into the heart of the servants’ domain.