A Wedding In Springtime(49)

“Demmed fool,” muttered Lord Bremerton, but it was not him whose opinion mattered to Mr. Grant.

Genie walked up to Grant and put her hand on his sleeve. “Would you?” Her eyes were wide with hope, and a smile graced her full, rose lips. He would have said yes to anything.

“Certainly. Christian duty and all, as you said.”

“Christian duty?” said Lord Bremerton with a guffaw. “I never knew you to be one of those do-gooders, Grant.”

“Yes, but if you are inclined to take the boy, we would be most grateful.” Here, the lady of the house gave her husband a silencing glance, and his lordship caught her meaning and said no more.

“This is most kind of you,” said Genie. “Most kind.” Her eyes were a kind of liquid fire that would no doubt be the death of him.

“Yes, yes, most kind,” said Lady Bremerton with a furtive glance at the door as if calculating how quickly she could return her sitting room to rights without the unwanted presence of a street urchin.

“Now, Jemmy,” said Genie, kneeling down to speak with him eye to eye, “would you like to go with this kind gentleman? He will help take care of you.”

“He does look a flash cove, miss. Is ’e the bloke wi’ the racing phaeton I saw out the window there?”

“I believe I am that ‘bloke,’” replied Grant.

“Can I drive them bays ye’ got, guv’nor?” Jem’s eyes grew large with anticipation.

“Certainly not,” said Grant with a shudder. A child drive his bays? It was too hideous even to consider. Genie looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he fell into some alternate state of existence where he wooed debutantes, cared for the needy, and let a young thief hold the reins to his new matched bays.

“Thems fine steppers,” said Jem.

The sound of the boy’s voice broke the spell and Grant returned to his senses. “They are at that and you’re not to touch them. You may, if you are a good lad and do not squirm, sit beside me on the box.”

That was enough incentive for any young thief, and he readily agreed to follow Grant wherever he might lead. Genie deftly fished the silver butter knife and a china tea plate out of Jem’s pocket, and they were ready to go.

“Thank you again, Mr. Grant, for your kindness,” said Genie. “I suspect you and Jem will become the best of friends.”

Grant suspected that was far from the truth but smiled and said nothing. Within a few minutes, Grant was seated on his high-perch racing phaeton, a dirty child by his side. He had come for his greatcoat and to talk with a pretty girl but, through circumstances that yet eluded him, had ended up with an urchin.





Sixteen





“George!” Genie flung her arms around a well-built young man and gave him a good squeeze. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“Took a break from school and thought I’d come see you.” The young man was tall, well-proportioned, and if his coat was not cut with the exacting precision of the latest mode, he at least filled it out better than most young gentlemen of the ton. His hair was dark and short, a contrast to his sea blue eyes.

“Do you mean you have a break from university or you are taking a break?”

George gave a guilty smile. “I needed a break. Too many books, makes me batty.”

“So of course you decided to meet me at the lending library,” laughed Genie. She had responded to George’s note by agreeing to meet him the next day at Hookham’s Lending Library.

“I suppose that was poor planning on my part.”

“Does Father know you are here, Brother dear?”

“No, course not!” He took her hand and pulled her gently into a secluded corner of the room and lowered his voice to speak privately. “What’s this I hear of your debut? What happened?”

“Oh, please tell me the news has not traveled all the way to Oxford.”

“Aunt Cora wrote to Mum and she wrote me concerned.”

Genie sighed. She was tired of telling this story. It was good to see her brother, but she was not pleased at how her failure was becoming well known even outside of London. Had people nothing better to do? “I laughed in front of the queen.”

“And?” prompted George.

“And nothing. I laughed. She did not find it amusing, and that made me laugh harder.”

“You are in trouble for laughing? What an odd lot these town folk are.”