A Wedding In Springtime(86)

“I simply cannot steal and go to a public house. I cannot.” Yet even as she said it, she doubted herself. What if this was the only way?

“It’s your choice, of course. This key will open the safe.”

Genie stared at the key he held out to her for a long moment. The man’s hand was thrust out into the light from the doorway, revealing ugly red scars. She was loathe to touch anything those hands had come into contact with until she realized the scars were severe burns, not a contagion.

“’Tis your brother, deary,” said the Candyman. “Only you can know what his life is worth.”

Genie took the key.

“That’s a good girl.”

But Genie left the strange shop feeling anything but good.





Twenty-nine





Dinner had not gone well. Lady Bremerton refused to talk, Louisa never spoke as a rule, and Genie had nothing to say. The absence of female chatter created a vacuum, which her uncle surprised the company by being willing to fill. Despite the unpleasantness of the afternoon caused by a minor revolt led by the two young ladies, Lord Bremerton was in fine fettle for having taken command of his ship.

He spoke first of the weather, then of the war, and then, as if the pump had been primed, of his friend Robby, who had been a general in a war before Genie had been born. Lord Bremerton told anyone who would listen, which at the silent table was everyone, that Robby was planning on visiting London and had promised to come to the engagement ball for Louisa.

Genie kept her eyes on her meal and ignored her uncle’s speech. She had less than twelve hours to find a solution for her brother. His mood had been despondent this morning. If he came back tomorrow morning and Genie could not provide him with good news, he might give up hope entirely. She needed to do something.

She considered her visit to the chocolate shop. He wanted her to steal for him, to steal sensitive documents. She may be naive, but she was not so stupid as to think stealing documents from the duke’s study would be a good plan. No, that option was definitely out.

There must be another way. Genie considered the problem, turning it around in her mind, searching for answers and solutions. She retired early to her room as did the other ladies; no one seemed in the mood to hear another war story featuring her suddenly loquacious uncle and Robby.

Out her bedroom window, through the bushy branches of spring, a light was on in the Grant household. Grant. He had made an offer too. His offer was not one she would usually contemplate. It would break her mother’s heart if she became a… a… she was not even sure of the right word.

Yet her mother’s heart would break even more if she learned her baby boy drowned himself in the Thames over a gambling debt. Genie would be ruined—unfit for London society, unfit for country society. But this was hardly news since she had doomed herself from the beginning with her disastrous debut. She had hoped with her presence at Almack’s her reputation could be restored, but now that she had so abused Mr. Blakely, she could not hope for another offer anytime soon.

Did Mr. Grant not say he would spoil her? Lavish gifts upon her? Her first request would be to discharge her brother’s gambling debts. Unlike Mr. Blakely, in whose character she had been so mistaken, she knew in her heart Grant would be generous. He would protect her brother.

She would do it. Tomorrow, she would write Mr. Grant and tell him she had decided to accept his proposal. Except tomorrow, tomorrow would be too late. Her brother would return early, and she must have good news for him or goodness knows what he would do.

The light in the far window beckoned her. Grant was there. He was awake. Could she go now? She shook her head. She couldn’t go traipsing through the gardens to a man’s house wearing nothing but a night rail. What kind of a hoyden was she? It was not proper!

Genie laughed at herself. Of course it was not proper. That was the whole point of what she was going to do. She was going to get improper—sinfully, wretchedly, utterly improper.

Genie put on a pair of slippers and chose a gauzy wrap that was more seduction than protection. Time to be seduced, and she couldn’t wait to start. She tiptoed down the hall and descended the stairs to the garden entrance. Her skin was alive, tingling.

At the door she stopped. Was she truly going to do this? Leave her life? Leave her family? Go to Grant? No, no she could not. She was a good girl. Her mother would be heartbroken. Genie would be lost to her entire family.

And yet, there were only two ways to discharge a debt of honor. Pay the debt or die. Since twelve thousand pounds was more than George could possibly pay, that left only one option.