A Wedding In Springtime(80)

“George! Promise you will meet me here tomorrow morning.” Genie heard nothing from the dense fog. “George? One day, just give me one day.”

“As you wish.” The metal gate creaked and he was gone.

Genie sank back down on the cold stone bench. Twelve thousand pounds. It was a fortune. She had heard the stories of young men being routed in gambling hells and then, unable to pay the debt, “putting a period to their existence.” She could not and would not let that happen to her brother.

“What am I do to?” she murmured to herself.

“Your brother is under the hatches deep,” said a small voice.

“Jemmy?” asked Genie.

“Aye, milady.” The small form of Jem stepped out of the mist.

“Should you not be at breakfast?”

Jem shrugged. “You need a gullgroper. Only one I know can tip that kind of blunt.”

“Jem dear, I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.”

“A gullgroper whats lends money to gamesters.”

“I see,” said Genie quietly. She had no idea even an hour ago that she would be in need of this type of information.

“The Candyman can tip you the blunt you need.”

“Candyman? Where would I find this person?”

“Chocolate Shoppe in Piccadilly.” Jem recited the address and Genie stored it away for future reference if needed.

“Thank you, though I hope this information will not be needed. Go on back to your breakfast now. You shouldn’t be out in all this damp air.”

“Aye, milady.” Jem shuffled back into the fog but turned and scampered back.

“Don’t go there, milady,” he whispered. “Don’t go see the Candyman. He’s a mean cove.”

“Thank you, Jemmy. Go on back now.” Genie listened until the footsteps disappeared in the direction of Grant’s house.

Grant was next door to her. Was he sleeping now? Probably. Desire to run and tell him what happened and ask for help washed over her. But she should not, could not. Mr. Grant was a shining dream, but he was not her future.

***

Grant could not remember when he had acted more like a horse’s arse. His behavior toward Genie, Miss Talbot to him from now on, had been incorrigible. His shocking words and actions revealed clearly he had drunk too much. The fact that he remembered every painful detail proved he had not drunk enough.

Had he really asked Miss Talbot, an innocent debutante living under the protection of the Earl of Bremerton, to be his mistress? He put his aching head in his hands and groaned. So she met a man in the lending library. So she encouraged that dull boy Blakely. None of it could excuse his own behavior.

He had always been careful to avoid any situation which would force him into marriage. He had avoided schemes, entrapments, plots, and intrigues, and yet here he was, tripping over his own stupid self. If any situation ever called for an immediate proposal of marriage, this was it. All those years of trying to avoid the matrimonial noose and here he had put his head in one of his one making.

He was going to do it. He was going to ask Eugenia Talbot to marry him.

Grant waited for the usual feeling of dread that generally accompanied the mere thought of wedding bells, but instead he felt lighter, happier, and, despite the obvious contradiction, freer.

Grant sat up and rang for his valet. It was 2:00 p.m., time for an early start for the day. Today’s agenda was to get dressed, look sharp, and ask a girl to marry him. And not any girl. Genie. His Genie. He could mentally call her that now that he had decided to wed her proper. Genie who made him laugh. Genie his wife. Genie in his bed.

“Hurry man,” Grant demanded to his valet. “I have important business today!”

So unusual was that declaration that the valet came to a full stop, as if ascertaining whether Mr. Grant was really his employer or had been replaced by a changeling overnight.

Once Grant had been dressed to his satisfaction, he went first to his mother’s rooms. Rummaging through her jewelry boxes, he found what he was looking for. His mother had once shown him a collection of rings that had been in the family. Many were beautiful and could be used as an engagement ring. There was one kept in a small, wooden box hundreds of years old. It was a simple band of braided gold, silver, and steel, symbolizing the union between God, a man, and a woman. According to his mother, it was a love ring only to be given to one’s true love.

Grant held the love ring for a moment, then returned it to the wooden box and chose a stunning emerald to match the earrings Genie wore. Maybe in time he would consider the love ring, for although he liked her, maybe even loved her, he felt the need to hold something back.