Page 59 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
Geny swiveled to look up at her maid in surprise. “I did not know.”
“The earl just gave the orders to Higgins, miss.” Charity stopped, and a worried look came upon her face. “But perhaps I’ve stepped out o’ line by telling you.”
Geny knew it was more likely that her father had taken a high-handed approach and had ordered his heir’s removal without even informing Matthew himself. She could not blame her maid. “It is all right.”
Charity began brushing her hair, working insilence, a kindness Geny appreciated. She could not bear any idle conversation at the moment with her heart so sore. The night before had been her second one in tears, with each morning pressing cold metal spoons to her eyelids to remove the swelling before anyone would see her. Tears that should be wasted, given how unworthy Mr. Rowles—Mr. Aubin—had turned out to be.
She had sent her chocolate back to the kitchen, requesting tea instead, and she sipped it now. The hot, perfumed beverage seemed her only solace since she could scarcely manage to choke anything else down.
Yesterday, she had stayed at the orphanage long enough only to see that Mr. Aubin had left the premises. She could not give her heart to the orphans at the moment, not when it was so broken. The rest of the day she had spent at home going over their every encounter and trying to analyze everything he had said to see if she should have guessed.
The decision of whether she should tell her father about his true identity was not an easy one. She had not done so yet and even wondered if the delay was a wise decision. Her father ought to know by all rights, but there was something that stopped her. A misplaced loyalty to Mr. Aubin, most likely. She was a fool.
“Shall I curl the sides of your hair, miss?” Charity asked, taking the tongs from where they had been heating in the fire.
“No. Pull everything back, so that it’s neater.” Geny watched, her somber expression accentuated by the severe hairstyle, as her maid followed her instructions.
John had fully felt the pain of the consequences of his actions yesterday. She knew he had, for she could see it in his eyes. And he had spoken to her with details about her father’s ill dealings that showed he at least had believed himself to be in the right. Her initial reaction had been disbelief, but with the night’s reflection, she was no longer quite so sure. Her father had always had an irreproachable reputation, but did this notcome from his own assertions rather than an abundance of good deeds? How could she be so sure he was the innocent man he claimed to be, when she scarcely spent enough time in his presence to know for sure?
“Thank you.” Geny got to her feet, leaving her food untouched. “You may take that back to the kitchen.”
“Yes, miss.” Charity began to gather the dishes, and Geny went downstairs in search of Matthew. He was sitting in the library, swinging one foot on the armchair and staring off into space.
“Good morning. I have just learned you are to return to Eton.” She sat at his side. “Were you aware of it?”
Matthew turned to look at her, his face inscrutable. “Betty is packing my trunk right now. Father left a message with Higgins to have the carriage hitched, and the footman came to give me the orders. He said Father has gone north for some reason, so he will not be here to see me off.”
“Father is gone?”
Geny felt disoriented by all these decisions being made without her knowledge, especially after the upsetting experience at the asylum. Now, even if she wished to tell her father about what happened, she could not do so. If only he communicated with her more, she would not be left in such a state of confusion.
“When do you leave?”
“Within the hour,” Matthew said, sighing.
“Hmm.” The despondency in her brother’s expression made her forget her own troubles in her anxiety to relieve his. “Why don’t we play a game of cards to pass the time?”
Although he did not return an enthusiastic reply, he stood and walked over to a side table where a deck of cards was held. She dealt them and searched for something to say, all while looking at him with fondness. He was growing up, but it meant he was not as confiding as he once was.
“They have begun to repair the wall in the orphanage. I think you would have liked to have seen it.” She glanced at her cards, then over at him as she lay down a card. “Timothy is following the mason and learning everything he can about the trade. I think I know what future lies ahead of him.”
“Lucky him,” Matthew said, playing his card and taking the trick.
“Did you wish you could become a mason?” she asked, a hint of a smile on her face.
“No, but I wish I could be as free as those orphans. I could live in the same place without going anywhere and have lots of friends. And I could work at something simple.”
Geny knew how futile it was to tell him that it wasn’t quite as carefree as he imagined. “I understand.”
“And they have Mr. Rowles,” he continued, clearly bent on carrying on his diatribe. This time his words inadvertently hit a mark.
Geny took the next trick and asked quietly, “Why do you speak of Mr. Rowles? What is it about him?”
“He seems honorable. I like him better than all my masters combined and wouldn’t mind training under him.”
His blond hair stood up in front in a stubborn cowlick, and she attempted to pat it in place across from their table. He submitted to it.
“Well, I know this is not what you want to hear, but the wisest course is for you to go to school and do your best there. I promise the future will be brighter than it is now.” She attempted to believe her own words.
