Page 13 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
“Only those matters that interest me.” Lord Blackstone looked up as the servant brought in a decanter of brandy and two glasses, along with a teapot and two cups. “But perhaps you wish for brandy after all.”
John thought about the excessive brandy he had consumed the night before his ill-fated encounter with Lord Goodwin that had led to a series of foolish decisions and opted for tea.
When the servant left, Lord Blackstone turned to John. “I have two propositions for you. The first is that I am inviting you to join my club.”
John looked at him, perplexed. The viscount had a knack for catching him off his guard. “Which club? Where is it located?”
Lord Blackstone lifted his hands and looked around. “You are in it.”
John didn’t remember seeing anybody else when he came in. It certainly didn’t resemble any club he knew. He struggled to keep up with Lord Blackstone’s strange proposition. “How many members are there?”
“Only two dozen,” Lord Blackstone said. “It is small yet. If you wish to join it, you will be made a member straightaway, then I can show you to the rooms where the others congregate. It is composed entirely of gentlemen who have been blackballed by other clubs,” he added proudly.
Thatdidn’t seem to be a positive attribute. “I should like to meet them first before I decide,” John hedged. He had no idea what kind of club he would be getting himself into and wasn’t sure he liked the idea.
“That is all very natural. I will introduce you to them shortly. But this brings me to my second point, and that is how to achieve your goal. I would like to help you.”
“Why?” The one word seemed to encompass his overallbafflement since he had stepped through Lord Blackstone’s doors.
“Because I don’t like bullies,” Lord Blackstone declared, and then without giving him a chance to respond, went on. “Therefore, if you are willing, I will secure you an invitation to Mrs. Sookholme’s ball tomorrow night. The guests will be far enough from society that you needn’t fear crossing paths with people you once knew.” It was as though he had read John’s mind. “Some of them have invested in the foundling asylum in the past, and you might find your conversation with some of them enlightening. There will be more merchants than gentry in attendance, but I should hardly think that will bother you.”
Lord Blackstone waited until John shook his head, still bewildered, before continuing. “It will be an easy thing to begin discussions about the asylum, especially when you mention that you are working as steward there.”
This seemed like a hopeful beginning, especially since he hadn’t made much progress with the accounting books. The idea of the ball excited him more than the club did. “I would be very glad to attend. However, I must warn you that I am going by the name of Rowles.”
“I am aware of it, and I will see that the invitation is sent using the correct name. Shall I show you the other rooms here?”
John sent a surreptitious glance at the untouched tea which would have been welcome since he had not taken any at the asylum. “Yes, that would be nice.”
Their visit bore no fruit, however. When they went into the adjoining room, it was empty aside from a large stuffed bear presiding over the space from a corner chair. His noticeable scent made John deduce him to be a new addition. He sent his gaze around the room to the other stuffed creatures before spotting the large bowl of flowers by the window that was visible from the outside. An armadillo shell. Of course.
“Ah, well.” Lord Blackstone’s voice echoed in the emptyroom. “I am afraid there is no one here to meet you just now, and I should not like to bring you into the private rooms until you are sure you wish to join the club. Let us hope we will have more luck later. I will have the invitation sent to your address for Saturday’s ball.”
“I appreciate your efforts on my behalf,” John said.
It seemed as though the interview was at an end, and the servant came in as though he read Lord Blackstone’s mind. John was shown to the door, and he left the premises thoroughly at a loss. The place did not seem like much of a club. Besides, what an odd premise for it. Whoever would wish to join it? Could Lord Blackstone be all right in his head? John wasn’t sure. But he wouldn’t turn down the invitation for the Sookholme ball.
Chapter Five
It was Friday, and Geny resisted the urge to go to the orphanage, although not without a struggle. There was no rational explanation for what had come over her that she should have such an overwhelming desire to see Mr. Rowles—one that was almost impossible to master. But it would behoove her to gain a better grip on her flights of romantic fancy. Nothing was more absurd than the notion that she should show interest in him. After all, he might look the gentleman, but his status was questionable. Besides, was she then to throw herself at his feet? Surely, she was the only one who experienced such forceful—and inexplicable—emotions when they were together. He likely felt nothing, which was even more embarrassing.
She was working on another set of curtains when the sounds of a visitor reached her in the drawing room. The butler came in to announce Miss Buxton, and Geny looked up with a smile. “What an unexpected pleasure. You are usually too tired from the prior night’s party to come and visit me.”
“Oh, I am tired.” Margery plopped herself on the sofa in an unladylike manner, which she only allowed herself to do infront of Geny. Never in public, of course, and never in front of her mother.
“However, I have come to bring you an invitation to a ball that we are to attend tomorrow night. I thought you would like to come because some of those who donate to the orphanage will be there. You will be able to thank them in person.” Her demure smile almost hid her look of mischief. “And encourage them to give more. It is at seven o’clock.”
Geny sent her friend an appreciative look. “You know me well. That is precisely what I would like to do. However, my father would not approve unless I am to be escorted.”
“I have already spoken to my mother on the subject, and she will be happy to have our carriage come and pick you up. Will you indeed come then?”
“You may count on it.” The event would be just the thing to take her mind off the asylum’s new steward. “Can you stay for a while? I will call for tea.”
Margery shook her head. “I am tempted, especially with your cook’s delicacies, but I dare not. Besides, I have already eaten more than is good for me today.”
Geny chuckled at this. Her friend loved to eat, but any resulting plumpness only seemed to serve to her advantage for it went where it was supposed to. “Well then, I will expect you at seven o’clock tomorrow night. Where is it?”
“You remember Mrs. Sookholme, do you not? She was an early donor with her husband, and when we approached her to ask if she would extend you an invitation, she almost stumbled over herself in her pleasure to do so. I daresay you’ve never been to her house as it’s in Southwark, but she has a very nice residence and a large ballroom.”
