Genie’s Scandalous Spinster’s Society

by Charlotte Stone

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  “Are you sure I don’t look silly?” Genie pushed on the bonnet, only to have the front fall over once more.

  “I’m actually envious of your hat,” Sophia commented as their carriage came to a stop in front of the inn in the center of Newmarket. It was obvious the justices were in town; the noise had announced their arrival long before the carriage had come to a stop.

  Genie touched her hat again nervously. She wasn’t supposed to be at the race. She was in mourning, which meant she should have stayed home but Genie was loathe to miss Francis’ victory. She didn’t recall ever missing one of Francis’ races at Newmarket, which were held during the spring and fall.

  She tried to turn the brim to see if it would make a difference.

  “Leave it be,” Lorena told her. “Mr. Taylor designed it so that you could come with us and not be seen.”

  “But I can barely see anything except for my feet.” The bonnet had a wide brim that hung in front of Genie’s face and had been done in a pink that did nothing for her hair but would bring out the green of her eyes… as though anyone would see them. “However am I to see Francis with this hat in my way?”

  Lorena rose to leave the carriage. “By the time my brother sits his horse, no one will care who you are because everyone will be looking at him.”

  Alice grabbed her hand on her way out. “We’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

  Genie tried to give her a smile but suspected it had been hidden by the big bonnet. She quickly exited the carriage and rushed into the inn.

  The inside of the inn smelled of coffee, and Genie noted just how well the wooden floors gleamed. She squeezed Alice’s hand as they made a turn in one direction and stopped somewhere. Lorena spoke to the innkeeper and then they were walking again.

  They made another turn, walked up a flight of stairs, and started down another hall. Alice’s hand slipped from hers just as Genie ran into someone. She started to fall but a pair of hands caught her before she could.

  “I beg your pardon.” Francis’ voice set her heart racing and her anger at Alice’s desertion changed to gratitude.

  Genie lifted the brim of her hat and wouldn’t trade all the money in the world for the arrested look on Francis’ face. She heard squeals and excitement from the other end of the hall, expecting that Lorena and Alice had found their men, but Genie’s concentration remained on Francis. She admired his masculine features in the morning light that came in from the windows.

  She placed one hand on his chest and leaned forward. “Hello.”

  Francis’ lips twitched. One hand settled on her hip while the other touched the front of her hat as he inspected it. “What the devil is this?”

  With her other hand free, she let it join the first on his chest. “It’s a bonnet.”

  Francis kept his eyes on the bonnet. “It’s rather large, don’t you think?”

  “It has to be. I’m supposed to be in mourning. I can’t let people see who I am.”

  He met her eyes. “Oh.” He let the bonnet go and the front fell down once more.

  Genie let out a heavy breath.

  Francis chuckled and stepped back from her, his boots still visible in her limited view. “You’re not dressed in black.”

  “Well, I have to blend in.” She lifted the hat again.

  Francis went to the ribbons under her chin and began to undo them, his fingers brushing her skin, causing her to shiver in delight.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This wing was reserved by Frank. No one but our friends will see you while you are here.” He took the bonnet from her head, and the sunlight covered her skin like a welcomed blanket.

  Francis looked her over. “You’re wearing pink. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that color on you.”

  Genie blinked. “You know what colors I wear?”

  His expression changed from thoughtful to guarded.

  Genie noticed how quiet the rest of the hall seemed and took note that they were alone.

  Francis glanced behind him as well before turning to look at her again. “A few of the others are at the stables. I was going to see about Prince before the race tomorrow.”

  “Could I go with you?” Her heart raced with anticipation of his answer.

  He placed the bonnet back on her head, once again blocking her vision, and secured the ribbons under her chin. He fumbled a little, which made Genie laugh. Then he took her hand, placed it on his arm, and started back the way she’d come.

  She couldn’t see him but simply holding his arm brought her pleasure, and also that he’d not told her no.

  “What are your plans while you are here?” he asked.

  “Well, since I can only be seen with the bonnet, they will mostly consist of the races, after which I’ll be forced to retire in my room. However, Sophia informed me that she has a dinner planned for the men to attend.”

  Francis groaned. “We allow the Spinsters to dictate our schedule during the season. This is not the season.” That was the bargain that had been struck earlier that year. The woman planned the men’s schedules, making sure they attended just enough parties and balls to satisfy what was required of their stations, though many of those events were mostly intimate, taking place between the society and the brotherhood with a few other notable members of the ton invited for the sake of appearance.

  “I recall the bargain but you couldn’t very well be here and not go to some social gathering.”

  They arrived at the stables, the enclosed space’s temperature lower than outside. The smell of horse and hay was all-consuming as were the loud conversations of the other gentleman and ladies who’d come to inspect their own animals. Francis stopped to speak to the stableman, having to raise his voice to be heard. She admired the way he handled the man, asking after Prince’s care and giving instructions pertaining to it. The stableman walked away, and Francis guided her inside the stall and closed the door. Genie touched Prince’s dark coat the moment she was close to him. He blew on her bonnet, and she suspected that her disguise could not fool him.

  “So, exactly what social event does Sophia have us attending? Please tell me it won’t be a ball.”

  Genie lifted her bonnet and glanced down at Francis, who was checking the horse’s front hooves. “We’re having dinner with the members of the Jockey Club.”

  Francis’ head popped up. He stared at her, then he was on his feet and she was up in the air in his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying his excitement. The Jockey Club was one of the most exclusive clubs in London, with a fee for entry that not many could afford. Since the sixteenth century, they’d been known as the lords of everything that pertained to horses, their breeding, and care. They had a club in London but their main place of business was Newmarket, the Home of Racing. Genie knew that Francis could have never afforded the fee to join the club, neither would he have allowed anyone else to pay his entrance, but Sophia had known someone on the board and got the men in.

  Genie buried her face in Francis’ throat and shivered when she felt him do the same. He inhaled and let her go, the moment happening so quickly she didn’t know if he’d done it on purpose or not.

  He lifted her bonnet to meet her eyes, his smiling. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Sophia was the one who secured you the place at the table.”

  “But you thought of it,” he accused. “This was your idea.”

  Her smile grew. “You belong there, Francis. No one loves horses more than you.”

  He held her eyes for a long moment and let the brim of the hat fall, concealing any further reaction from her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Lord Valdeston, is that you?”

  Genie’s fingers moved to lift her hat but just as quickly fell away. She couldn’t allow herself to be seen.

  “Madam Judith, good morning,” Francis greeted the woman who had spoken.

  Genie recalled the young woman but couldn�
��t remember who her father was, just remembered he was some lord. What she did recall was the way the woman’s eyes would light whenever she saw Francis.

  “I thought I might find you here, Your Grace. Who’s that with you?” Judith asked.

  Francis’ answer came evenly. “This is my cousin Evelyn from France. She hardly knows any English, so I’m showing her around.”

  Genie glared to no one but herself. She didn’t want to be Francis’ ‘cousin’. She’d have preferred him calling her his mistress as opposed to that; then at least that way she would touch him and let it be known that he was his. Instead, she took his arm. “Bonjour,” she clipped in her clearest English voice.

  Francis nudged her.

  “Oh, bonjour,” Judith said. “Well, Lord Valdeston, my friends insisted that I invite you and your friends to dinner this evening.”

  “Thank you but we have plans for the evening.”

  Genie said a silent prayer of thanks that Sophia had seen to do so. She’d have lost her hair thinking about Francis sitting across from Judith or any other lady while she was forced to hide in her room. She couldn’t lie that there were some advantages in sending the men off to a gentlemen’s club and one of those reasons was the exclusion of ladies.

  “Oh? Where?” Judith asked rudely.

  “The Jockey Club.”

  “Oh.” Her voice rose. “Well, then perhaps something can be arranged another time.”

  “Of course. Good day, madam.”

  “Good day.” Her footsteps faded.

  Francis turned to her. “You speak better French than that.”

  She decided to say what she’d been thinking and lifted her bonnet. “Your cousin? Why couldn’t I have been your mistress?”

  Francis frowned. “Because I don’t have a mistress.”

  She enjoyed hearing those words.

  “They’re much too expensive,” he went on.

  Her joy died. She stomped her foot. “You did not say those words to me.”

  He leaned toward her. “And you didn’t just ask to be called my mistress, Evie.”

  She moved closer. “I could be.”

  He looked away. “This is why ladies require a chaperone.”

  “As though you’ve ever taken advantage of any moment we’ve been alone.”

  He turned to her again and his eyes were dark. “Is that what you want?” His finger trailed down her throat and she shivered. “You want me to take advantage of you?”

  “Yes,” she said boldly and pressed her body against his.

  He stared at her.

  Genie held her breath.

  He looked around then stepped away from her. “I’m taking Prince out for a bit to move around the horse fence. Shall I take you to your room or are you prepared to watch from the rail?”

  She sighed. “Will it make a difference to you?”

  He smiled at her. “Of course it will.” He took her hand, placed it on her arm, and guided Prince from the stall.

  “It will? In what way?” Did he think it better for her stay with him or leave and return to her room? Was she a bad omen or good luck to him?

  He didn’t answer her, simply led her back outside and toward a rail. She lifted the hat slightly and watched him take his position on top of Prince. He entered the fenced area where other men were with their own beasts.

  His answer was clear.

  He wanted her to stay.

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  CHAPTER NINE

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  Francis’ heart raced with the thunder of Prince’s hooves. He concentrated on the finish line before him but glanced over as another rider neared, riding hard toward the end of the track. The urge to speed grew but Francis kept his patience and waited until just the right moment, listening to the breathing of his horse.

  He kicked and Prince shot off, hitting the ground harder than before and nearly flying in his pursuit of the finish line. They passed the other rider and glided across, the feeling of the last second exhilarating.

  Immediately, the sounds of the world around him came back as though he’d been closed behind a door that had just been opened. The cheering was nearly deafening, and he felt hands grab for him as he climbed off Prince. The race was over and gentlemen gathered to congratulate him on his victory. He took the hands that were offered.

  He looked beyond them and found his sister standing at the railing with their friends. Then he quickly found Genie. She smiled with pride and their eyes met before she lowered her bonnet once more, pink ribbons and feathers fluttering in the wind.

  Winning was only important where she factored. The money was always split between his debt and the caring of Prince, an investment for the next race that always brought him closer to his ultimate goal, being with Genie.

  He was pulled into a conversation with one of the members of the Jockey Club that he’d met the other night. The gentlemen had told Francis they would have been more than willing to sponsor his membership but didn’t wish to look as though they favored him since they created the rules of the game.

  “We’re having a dinner party this evening. Why not join us?” Lord Stewart was an older gentleman and one of the board member for the Jockey Club.

  “I would love to but I will have to see what the rest of my party plans to do.”

  “Bring them all. We’ve plenty for everyone.”

  Francis nodded then allowed a few more congratulations before he went over to where his friends stood. He placed his hand on the railing and felt Genie’s small hand settle over his. He pretended to ignore it though all he really wanted to do was grab hold of it. “Anyone bet against me?”

  “As though we’d ever,” Morris said with a grin. “You just won me a very great sum of money.”

  Lorena touched his shoulder. “You were wonderful, Francis.”

  He kissed her cheek and used his free hand to wave to a few of the other women from the ton who stood further back, shouting for his attention, not willing to ignore his supporters.

  Genie’s hand squeezed his in obvious protest. He smiled and looked at her. “Evie.”

  She grinned and leaned further on the rail. “Where’s the kiss for your dear cousin?” They’d told their friends the story of Lady Judith’s visit to the stables but had left out the rest.

  Francis leaned forward, grabbed her chin, and quickly kissed her cheek before pulling away. “There. A kiss.”

  Genie rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

  “This calls for a celebration,” Calvin suggested. Alice was on his arm and he envied their ability to be seen together. Lorena and Emmett were much the same with Lorena leaning into him and his arm possessively on her side, the stance on the threshold of impropriety. Whenever there was some sort of chaos and everyone’s eyes were directed somewhere else, they took advantage and publicly displayed their affection for one another.

  He shook his head and turned to everyone else. “We’ve been invited to a party being given by Lord Stewart.”

  Everyone seemed excited at the news but Genie’s expression was concealed under her hat.

  Lorena immediately grabbed Genie’s arm. “Well, perhaps some of us could remain behind and entertain Genie while the others go.”

  “No.” Genie turned to her. “You must go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Perhaps you could dye Genie’s hair and give her spectacles. No one would know it was her in the end,” Calvin suggested.

  “No to the dye,” Frank said with a frown. “Those lead combs make every man who uses them sick.”

  “Or kills them eventually,” Aaron added. “My uncle used it to cover his grays. My aunt still believes it to be the reason for his death.”

  The group began to think of other ways to hide Genie. Alice suggested dying her blond. Calvin thought it a good idea. Rollo brought up how the Church had once condemned women for dying th
eir hair blond much less being blond, afraid it would seduce men to their deaths. Francis had other disagreements at the notion of dye, one of them being that he enjoyed Genie’s red curls. Calvin caught his eye and grinned as if he knew Francis hated the entire conversation. He wanted to speak his peace but couldn’t think of any words that didn’t make him sound possessive, yet at the thought of Genie’s hair, his heart screamed mine.

  “We’re not changing my hair for one party,” Genie finally said. “I’ll be fine in my room. Please go and dance for me then come back and tell me everything.”

  Lorena sighed. “Very well.”

  Francis was pulled into another conversation by gentlemen who’d bet on him and didn’t see the women as they left but promised to catch up with everyone later in the evening.

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  CHAPTER TEN

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  Francis stood by the buffet and was not surprised that Lord Stewart had been right about there being plenty of food for everyone. The amount present could feed the entire town and most of the ton was present. Lord Stewart’s party was a crush, and Francis had grown weary of the people who’d come up to offer their congratulations. The only brilliant moment had been when he’d found himself in a discussion with some breeders about the selection of horses that were coming in from Arabia. More than one man had offered to buy Francis’ horse from him, while others, those who knew about his financial restraints, had asked him to race in places that were less regulated. That could mean greater gains but since those races meant greater risk to Prince, he didn’t even entertain the idea.

  Julius came to stand by him. “No one would realize you were gone if you left right now.”