Page 41 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
“None, sir.” Matthew grinned up at him. “But I will likely need to stay at home for another month or two to be sure.”
The earl gave as close to a smile as Geny ever saw. “A month, you say? It sounds more like you are trying to shirk your studies. However, I am not eager to send you back until there is no risk of contagion, so you may rest easy.” He looked at Geny. “Eugenia, how have you been? Have you visited the Marbles?”
“I have, Father.” She stopped short, neither wishing to say in whose company she went, nor wishing to say who she met while she was there, lest her father remind her of his expectations. He did not need the reminder.
“I have not forgotten that I want to have you spend time with Lord Amherst. We will invite him for dinner. See Cook about preparing a menu. Let’s say for next week.”
She sighed quietly. He had remembered. Perhaps if she informed her father about his request to visit her at the opera, dinner might be avoided.
“As a matter of fact, Father, I crossed paths with Lord Amherst at the British Museum, and we spoke for a bit there. He said he would come to our box at the opera tonight.”
Her father moved toward the drawing room, and they followed. “Very good. You may extend the invitation to him then if you wish.”
She did not wish, and an oppressive air seemed to settle in the room. Her father had never been so intent on a match as to force a dinner invitation. He rarely entertained after her mother died, and when he did, it was his own friends that were invited.
“A part of the wall fell down in the asylum,” Matthew said, bringing her back to the moment. “It will have to be repaired, as it weakens the structural integrity, the new steward has said.”
“I trust him to take care of that. That is precisely what I pay him for.” Their father took out a glass and poured some brandy. Their butler had rushed to see that it was ready, knowing the earl’s habits well.
“I was there when it fell, Father,” Matthew continued. “One of the orphan boys got hurt.”
“Did he?” Lord Goodwin took a sip of his brandy, then went over to sit.
“Yes, you remember Gabriel Smith?” Geny said. “He is twelve.”
The earl’s eyes flicked upward, and she noted a look of surprise in them. It must have been because Gabriel was one of the first orphans to arrive that her father remembered him.
“Was he gravely injured?” her father asked. Although his tone was casual, she thought he seemed intent on the answer.
“He broke his arm, but the surgeon said he will make a full recovery.” Matthew took the seat next to the earl, prepared to launch into as much discussion as their father would allow.
Lord Goodwin’s features eased, and Geny was touched to find he cared so much about the orphan. However, his patience for children came with limits. He put up with Matthew’s conversation for the time it took to finish his brandy and then said that he had work to do in the study. A look of discouragement came over Matthew’s face, but he bravely hid it.
That night, Geny waited with her companion for her father to come into the drawing room so they might attend the opera. She had not needed Miss Edwards while her father was away, since she had not gone out for even one evening, apart from the Sookholme ball. Her companion was a timid woman—speaking little and only when the earl was not nearby unless it was to answer a question—and they waited in silence.
Lord Goodwin entered the drawing room and gave Geny an appraising look. “That color suits you.” He gave a nod of acknowledgment to her companion.
Geny warmed under the praise. She did look her best tonight in a silk champagne-colored gown simply adorned but of the finest material. Her father did not spare any thought for how she dressed during the day, but he expected her to be wellturned out when they were seen together in the evenings. He had already reminded her that she would be meeting the marquess that evening and that she should look her best. She privately thought the effort was wasted on Lord Amherst and wondered what John would think of her appearance. Would he be tempted to kiss her again despite declaring that it had been a mistake? This sent a wave of frustration and longing through her again.
“Did you accomplish everything you wished to at the estate?” she asked, once they were settled in the carriage.
“Yes.” He pulled out his timepiece and glanced at it in the dim light, then snapped it shut.
“I am glad.” And the conversation died from there.
The opera was thronged with people, because they were to hear Mozart’sDon Giovannifor the first time. Not even her father had heard when it debuted in London thirty years prior. She followed the earl to their box seat, allowing him to navigate the crowds while Miss Edwards clung to her arm. Geny appreciated the opera more than she did the parties and balls, for she liked music. And she could lose herself in its notes while not being required to converse with anyone. Other than the commonplaces she exchanged with her companion, she was able to do just that until the first intermission brought their first visitor.
“How do you do, my lord?” Lord Amherst bowed, and her father returned the greeting, warm with praise. She did not know why he had settled on this man above all the others. She had not thought her father so exalted as to choose a match for her simply because the man was heir to a dukedom.
Her father had leaned in to speak to Lord Amherst, but she was able to catch his words.
“I shall not bring up investment matters here, but the time to purchase the shares is running out, and you will certainly regret having missed them.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the marquess glance her way. “I might be persuaded to do so under certain conditions.”
“We have much to discuss then.” Her father spoke in a more audible tone. “Well, I shall take advantage of the intermission to drink some champagne while you enjoy time with my daughter. After all, is that not why you are here?” He left the box, just as Miss Purcell was entering it. She curtsied and murmured her excuses, then pulled back to allow him to leave.
Geny resigned herself to a dull intermission, although she was grateful that Miss Purcell would be there to remove some of the tedium and focus from her. She had launched into a story, when Geny glanced down into the pit, allowing her gaze to roam over the crowd. One face was turned upwards, and his eyes seemed to be fixed on her. She held her gaze there until recognition dawned. Mr. Rowles.
