Page 54 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
That must be it. Despite being wealthy, Miss Purcell’s family had little ties to the peerage, and she likely thought that was the only thing that was missing—even if it meant being tied to a man who did not inspire Geny with any sentiment that was remotely tender.
As the women gathered in the drawing room for tea, allowing the men their port and cigars in the dining room, Miss Purcell took a seat beside her. They were the only two of the same age, so this was natural.
Miss Purcell looked at the four older women, then sent her gaze around the drawing room at large before bringing it to Geny. “I am much obliged to you for the invitation.”
“It was my pleasure.” She could not expand on that, for it would involve admitting she had few other acquaintances in society, and that Margery had not been welcome.
Geny rarely dwelled on the fact that she had never cultivated deeper friendships with anyone in theton. In the early years, her mother’s death had stolen all desire to do so. Later on, when she finally looked to build possible friendships with other women, she discovered no one who shared her interests. After a few attempts, she gave up trying and was content with what she had with Margery. Now, she turned to her guest with a determination to be friendly and sent her a smile. Miss Purcell returned it.
“I was wondering if you would be interested in going with me tomorrow to visit a new haberdasher’s shop on St. James’s Street. My mother has given me pocket money expressly to purchase some items for the poor orphans.”
Geny looked at her in surprise, not having thought that Miss Purcell would in any way be interested in improving the lives of orphans. It made her glad she had invited her.
“I would be delighted to go with you. It was kind of your mother—and yourself—to think of such a thing.”
Miss Purcell smiled. “It is settled, then. I will have the carriage sent around tomorrow at two thirty if that suits you. And I will have my maid with me, so you need not bring your chaperone if you do not wish it.”
After such a kind overture of friendship, Geny thought that perhaps it was time to dispense with formalities and said so. “If you wish, you may address me as Eugenia.”
“I am honored, my—” Miss Purcell stopped herself. “Eugenia. And of course I give you free use of my name.”
The servants came in carrying the tea, and Geny gestured to the table on one wall before turning back to Lucy. “I look forward to seeing what we might find for the orphans tomorrow.”
Geny congratulatedherself on having included Lucy Purcell as part of the guest list the night before, for it meant that she was spared some of Lord Amherst’s focus when the men came in from their port. Lucy sought the marquess’s attention naturally, and not even Geny’s father appeared to notice her subtle intrusion into the planned courtship the marquess sought to conduct with his daughter.
The carriage arrived in the afternoon as promised, and the footman opened the door for Geny to exit into the outdoors. She looked up at a bright blue sky with white clouds that somehow brought out the vibrancy of spring colors all around her. This sight of renewal gave her hope, especially since she was to spend time with a young lady her father approved of, while also furthering her interests for the orphanage. Such happenstance made it seem as though a happy future would be possible—even one with John. The two notions did not naturally intersect and therefore made no sense, but it was how she felt.
As they rode to St. James’s Street, Geny was more voluble than usual and allowed her guard to come down. Their conversation remained impersonal, but she asked questions of Lucy and answered hers in return. Their time together was more agreeable than she would have expected.
Inside the haberdasher’s, they purchased needles and thread, along with a quantity of ribbons and buttons, all for a reasonable sum. And as they had spied a milliner’s farther down the street, they agreed to stop there afterwards for some shopping of their own.
They exited the milliner’s shop with their parcels, and Geny looked up at the budding trees, inhaling contentedly. Lucy was focused on the crowds milling on the street and slipped her arm through Geny’s to lean in.
“Do you know that man?”
Geny made the effort to look but could not see around Lucy.
“It is Mr. Aubin,” Lucy continued in a quiet voice, although he must have been too far to hear her. “He was shunned from society, and in fact it was at the hands ofyour father, the earl, for Mr. Aubin had made false claims about him.”
Before Geny could assimilate that piece of information, Lucy went on. “And he fleeced a man of his entire fortune in one night, so everyone agrees it is better that he has been turned out, for he is not a gentleman that anyone would wish to associate with. I do not know how he dares to show his face on St. James’s Street.”
Now Geny was even more curious to see who this Mr. Aubin was, having recognized the name. The only new piece of information that Lucy had given her was that it was her own father who had had him shunned from society. She had not known that.
She pulled out of Lucy’s grip and stepped back to peer down the street just as the gentleman turned his head. A look ofshock, followed by alarm filled his features at the same time that recognition dawned on her.
Good heavens. No…
Not since the physician announced the news of her mother’s death did she feel as though the ground had opened up underneath her, pulling her into a black abyss.
Mr. Aubin was indeed none other than John Rowles.
Chapter Nineteen
John entered Blackstone’s in a state of shock, scarcely able to return Plockton’s greeting. Lady Geny had just learned of his identity. He was nearly certain of it based on her stunned expression, which mirrored his own. That, and the way she turned to step into the carriage without speaking to him. The knowledge that he had lost her good opinion hurt more than he could have imagined. It was only now that he realized just how much he had been fooling himself into thinking he would find a way out of this dilemma without losing Geny. It had been foolish to hope that he would.
John walked numbly in the direction of the drawing room, scarcely heeding anyone around him. Since he had come to the club with no particular purpose that day, he considered going home. Time in solitude was needed to deal with the blow he had just suffered on the street. Strangely enough, though, the undemanding atmosphere of the club soothed the turbulence of his emotions, and he decided to stay. He headed toward the empty chair next to Harry Smart.
“Aubin, this here is Miles Yardley. He’s just joined, too. Wego two years without any new members, and now we get an assortment at once.”
