Page 42 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
She gasped and jumped in her seat.
“What is it, my lady?” Miss Purcell asked as Miss Edwards laid her hand on Geny’s arm.
Lord Amherst took a step toward her. “Are you quite all right? I hope no one has had the temerity to stare at you,” Lord Amherst said, glancing down into the pit, as though he were ready to challenge the man.
“No, no.” Geny could no longer see John in the crowd, but she was sure it had been him. “I merely…thought I saw someone injured in the crush, but it turns out I was mistaken.” She turned back to Miss Purcell. “Please, do go on.”
Now, her eyes were fixed on Miss Purcell, but her thoughts were fully consumed by Mr. Rowles. He had not only been at the opera, he had been staring ather. That meant he could not be as indifferent as he claimed to be.
Chapter Fifteen
The day after the opera, John spent a rare morning at home in his rented lodgings in Chelsea. He had not bothered to attend service since he had been ousted from society, except when he was in Surrey away from prying eyes. So he had nothing to do except think through the events of the night before. He reminded himself that the fact that he was at the opera could hardly unmask him, for he was sitting in the pit where people of his supposed status would be.
He had decided to risk attending the opera because he was a fan of Mozart’s work. The temptation to hear an opera that had not graced the English stage for so many years was very great, and he could not resist it. Of course he did not purchase a seat in an area where he might be discovered, even though he still bore the risk that some of his former friends might cut through the pit on their way to visit the opera dancers during the intermissions.
He had suspected that Lady Geny would be at the opera that night, and she was. She sat in the box with her father and an older, nondescript woman whom he guessed to be her companion. As he looked up at the stretch of box seats, he easily foundher in the crowd and watched from the shadows as her father left during the intermission. His eyes were drawn to her so magnetically, he found it astonishing that he did not know her when he mingled in society. Surely such a woman would have captured his eye.
A man he did not recognize, but who appeared to be a leader of society, entered the box and settled his attention on Geny. It had not been wise to fix his gaze upon her so steadily, for of course she should catch his eye once she chanced to look down upon the crowd in the pit. It had not been John’s intention to be discovered, but he froze in place when recognition dawned on her face. If he was not mistaken, she had jumped in surprise, for she had immediately to answer to the gentleman in her box and—he supposed—explain what had caused the alarm.
John, who had been circumspect in his regard when Lord Goodwin was in place, could not help but keep his eyes on Lady Geny during that conversation although he moved farther from sight. It was jealousy that caused him to do so, which was stupid. He himself had told her that nothing could come of the attachment they had for each other, despite having shared a very memorable kiss. And although he still knew this to be true, it was a quandary he could not see his way out of. She would not refuse him even were he of low status—he knew it with a certainty. But shewouldmost certainly refuse him if she knew he had tried to expose her father and was continuing to attempt it. Not only that, but that he was working in the orphanage under false pretenses.
Early in the afternoon, a knock came on the front door, and Owen went to answer it. As soon as John heard the visitor’s voice, he remembered that he had requested the solicitor to visit him on a Sunday, despite how irregular the practice was. He had explained that he was not at liberty to meet any other day of the week, which was mostly true. He stood, hoping he looked like a man who had been expecting the visitor he had invited.
“Come in, Mr. Wyndham. I apologize for making you work on a Sunday, and thank you for troubling to come to my lodging.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Aubin. It is of little trouble. My wife is away visiting her sister, so the house is empty.”
The solicitor drew out papers from the bag as he spoke. This alerted John to the fact that they would need to sit at the table, for he would have to sign them. It was a shame he had not sought a nicer and more spacious living quarters while he was staying in Chelsea, but he had not expected to spend much time in the place and had certainly not intended to receive anyone. He had preferred to save his money.
“Owen, bring us a bottle of claret, if you will. Please have a seat here, Mr. Wyndham.” John indicated the round table and took the seat across from him.
The solicitor sat and pushed the stack of papers toward him. “My visit need not take up much of your time, unless you have questions. Nothing has changed since the last time we spoke about the terms. This is just the formality needed to make it legal.”
John nodded and began to read the document. The solicitor leaned over and pointed to two clauses.
“As discussed, this clause states that if for some reason your brother succeeds in having an heir, you will set aside the living attached to Westerly. And if he should have more than one, you will settle three thousand pounds on each of his issue for their own private uses. Should there be any girls, they will each receive a dowry of two thousand pounds. These sums are held in trust.”
“Yes, of course. That needs no reflection.” He had only accepted the inheritance because Gregory told him they were medically unable to have children. He did not go into the details, and John did not ask, but nothing would stop him fromshowing every consideration to his niece or nephew should Gregory be so fortunate as to sire children.
He began to review the contract, although he knew the terms almost by heart. They had discussed this idea for two years before seeking to make it official.
“I am glad to hear you say it, Mr. Aubin. If you will permit me to say so, Mr. Gregory Aubin possesses a most generous nature. More often than not, I am called upon to arbitrate for siblings who are fighting over inheritances, even when the matter of who inherits should be a simple one. It destroys the bond between them.” Mr. Wyndham looked at him with kindly eyes. “It is refreshing to see brothers acting in so contrary a way, and brothers not even bound by blood.”
The praise should have brought him pleasure. Instead, John was seized with guilt over the way he had treated his brother in the past by living a wastrel existence far removed from Greg’s moral integrity. He lifted his eyes from the papers in front of him.
“I am well aware of my luck in being able to call Mr. Gregory Aubin my brother. I will do nothing to harm the relationship—with him or any of his children should he be so fortunate.”
Mr. Wyndham held up both of his hands, looking slightly alarmed. “I did not mean to imply that you would. Indeed, I did not.”
This caused the corner of John’s lips to tip upwards. “I did not think you were. It is only that I wished for someone else to bear testimony to my promise, for I intend to keep it.”
He read the documents through once more. There was nothing new, and it was left only for him to sign his name, which he did after he asked Owen to bring him the inkwell and pen. Then he proposed they drink a glass of claret together before the solicitor collected his belongings.
“I will leave this copy for you and will send one to yourbrother in Mossley. The third I will file. I am sure Mr. Gregory Aubin will be glad to know that this affair has been happily concluded, since this was his wish.”
John thanked him, still wrestling with his conscience for having so ill repaid his brother’s generosity with foolhardiness and deceit.
“I will send him a letter of my own as well to inform him that everything went forward as planned.” They bid farewell, and Owen showed the solicitor out.
