Page 57 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
He could no longer wait to see her and was turning to Gabriel just as Timothy walked through the door.
“Tim, you’re getting later and later,” Gabriel said in a voice as close to teasing as his sober nature would allow. “I have now caught up to you even using my weak hand.”
“I promised Mason Cook I’d clear the floor around the support beams before he arrived. I was busy.”
“Good morning, Timothy,” John said in reply to the bow his apprentice made him. “Why don’t you both go and learn from the mason today? A little sun will do you good, Gabriel. Just take care not to do anything to injure your arm any more.”
“Yes, sir.” They both bowed and left, with Gabriel moving at a pace that demonstrated the rapid convalescence of youth.
With the boys gone, John waited a few more minutes before drawing the conclusion that Lady Geny was not planning to come to his office. The notion that she might come andnotthrow him out, but simply ignore him, had notoccurred to him. He did not know what to make of it, but he could not avoid meeting his fate. It would happen sooner or later.
He walked past Mr. Dowling’s office, not bothering to bid him good morning, and went straight to the head mistress’s office. It was unfortunate that Mrs. Hastings was there, for he could not simply close the door and lay everything on the table between them.
“Good morning, my lady. Good morning, Mrs. Hastings.” He faced Lady Geny. “I was hoping I might speak to you about Gabriel and Timothy’s progress since you were so kind as to recommend them to me. Is now a convenient time?”
Lady Geny looked at him for a long moment, before standing.
“I have a few minutes to spare, Mr. Rowles. Let us go to the meeting room.” Though the meeting room was directly above the chapel wall, the mason had deemed it safe.
He followed behind her. As they went past Mr. Dowling’s office, the headmaster spotted Lady Geny and leapt to his feet. John was determined that Mr. Dowling would not be an audience to whatever it was they had to say to each other, but he did not know exactly how to rebuff him.
Lady Geny paused in her steps and turned to the headmaster as he reached the doorway. “Mr. Dowling, your presence is not needed. I am having a discussion with Mr. Rowles.”
She moved forward, and John followed once again through the parlor and into the meeting room, impressed by the efficient way she had disposed of Mr. Dowling. They entered the room, and he waited until she sat before taking the seat across from her.
He moistened his lips; it seemed impossible to begin. He did not know where he should start, and she was not giving him any assistance by opening the conversation for him. He could not blame her.
“I am guessing you have learned that my name is John Aubin.”
She returned a slight nod, her regard steady. His eyes drifted to hers, and he wondered if they were red or if he were simply imagining it. Her expression was too aloof to reveal any heightened emotion.
Since she had not said anything further, the onus was on him to elaborate. “I am surprised that you have not exposed my identity in the asylum and chased me off.”
“Not yet.”
This was not an auspicious beginning, but he deserved it.
“Your father and I are at odds,” he said, still struggling to find his way through the most difficult conversation he had ever had in his life.
Lady Geny raised her brow. “Are you indeed? What an odd way to deliver your explanation. I had rather thought you might begin by explaining how you are working in the orphanage under an assumed name. Have you conjured it up out of thin air?”
He knew this was mere quibbling over words, but he could not help but protest. “Itismy name—or was. Rowles is my birth father’s name. Aubin is my stepfather’s name. He adopted me.”
The news did not seem to relieve any of Geny’s ire, and she cocked her head. “So what are you truly doing here in the asylum?”
“I am trying to expose your father’s wrongdoings.”
That was the worst thing to have said, and in a flash she was on her feet. “Thank you for being so forthright. We clearly have nothing else to discuss.” She walked with brisk steps toward the door, but John leapt from his seat and raced toward her, cutting off her path.
“Please, Geny.” He held her arm, preventing her from opening the door until he had explained himself. She looked at it pointedly, and he released it.
“Even after everything we have gone through, I did not give you leave to use my Christian name.” Lady Geny swallowed, the only sign of a troubled spirit. “And I would thank you for not doing so.”
“My apologies.” John took a step backwards, yet still partially blocked the entrance, hoping she would allow him to have his say.
“My lady, your father did me an ill turn. I was on my way to my brother’s estate in Surrey in November. It was early in the morning, and I had stopped at an inn where I overheard the earl’s conversation with a man I now must suppose to be Mr. Peyton. Lord Goodwin had just learned of Parliamentary legislation that would threaten the return on an investment he had made. He instructed his agent to sell off his shares quietly without informing his peers.”
She stared at him for a moment before responding. “Impossible. My father would never do such a thing. His reputation is beyond reproach.”
