A Wedding In Springtime(76)

“Miss Talbot?”

“I do apologize, Mr. Grant,” said Genie, flicking open her fan and waving it before her in a vain hope to bring herself back to the present. “I was thinking of something else and did not see you standing there.”

“I am sorry to have sunk so far beneath your notice.”

“No, no, not at all.”

“Are you enjoying Almack’s?”

“Yes, thank you so much for securing me a voucher. It is more than I thought possible.”

“Have you made any new friends? I hear you are becoming quite the favorite.”

Genie waved her fan before her. It was dreadfully hot in the ballroom. “I suppose.” She did not wish to talk about Mr. Blakely right now.

“And did you meet your friend in Hookham’s? Did you have a nice time with her?”

“Yes, quite, but who can think of books when in a ballroom?” She did not feel free to tell him about her brother either.

“Certainly not me,” replied Grant with a smile that did not reach his eyes. She got the impression she had disappointed him. “You look lovely tonight. Those emeralds are divine with your gown. A gift from a new suitor perhaps?”

“No, they are from…” Genie paused, not wanting to say they were from her brother.

“While you decide whom they are from, perhaps you would care to dance?” asked Grant.

“Yes, I would very much.” Genie smiled at Grant, but he seemed different, distant, removed somehow.

And so they danced. They spoke not a word, but as the music played, everything else seemed to drift away. Mr. Blakely was a fine dancer, but Mr. Grant was beyond that. He did not appear to be a man performing a series of steps, but rather one with the dance, flowing through the music. With him, she felt lightweight, giddy, and free. She was connected to the music and him and all was good.

Grant stood still in the middle of the ballroom holding out his hand. She glided to him to take it. She would follow him anywhere.

“Thank you, Miss Talbot, for a lovely dance.” Mr. Grant bowed and was gone. The dance was at an end.

Genie wandered back to her aunt, stunned. Grant had not spoken to her. No conversation. No repartee. Nothing. The loss of his friendship hurt; it actually hurt. But what could be wrong? She must discover the reason.

Unfortunately, her immediate plans to press after him were arrested by Penelope and the dowager, who had several other young beaux for her to dance with. With her presence at Almack’s, much of her social stigma had been lifted and young men felt free to make their interests known to the pretty, young miss.

It was over an hour later before she escaped the ballroom by whispering a need to visit the ladies’ retiring room. On the way back to the ballroom, Genie found Grant alone in a corridor. She had been pondering the meaning of his silence, and now here he was, sitting on a bench with a flask in his hand.

He raised the flask as he saw her approach. “Your health,” he said and went to take a drink, only to look disappointed. “All gone.” He held the flask upside down. “Never fear. I’ll find more whiskey to drink you with.”

“No, thank you. I think you’ve had quite enough,” said Genie with disapproval.

“You’re right, of course. Why are you not with your admirers? Got yourself quite a pack of them.”

There was something in Grant’s tone she could not like. “My aunt has been introducing me to many people tonight.”

“Capital. Capital. It is not often one finds such an enterprising young lady.” Grant leaned closer and she could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Go for the one with the deepest pockets; that’s always the best plan.”

“Mr. Grant, I do believe you are feeling the ill effects of drink.”

“If that’s a fancy way of saying I’m drunk, then you’re right.”

“Mr. Grant, is something the matter tonight? You seem not yourself.” Genie was actually concerned for him. This behavior was unusual.

“Not myself, no not myself at all,” mumbled Grant.

“Whatever is wrong? Your family, are they well?”

“Yes, yes, everyone is quite well. Family. Is that what you want, Genie? A family? Damned nuisance most of the time. Always telling you what it is you ought to do.”

Concern wavered. Perhaps nothing was wrong with Grant that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.

“Now, I am going to tell you what to do,” said Genie, taking charge. “You are going to go home this instant and sleep it off.”