“And most likely lacks holes.” Francis shook his head and stared down at the glass in his hand. Already, he could feel the effects of the poison in his body. “Lord Buckley was right. I’m wasting my time.” He reached into his pocket and handed the banknote to William. “Use this for the locomotive projects you told me about.” There was a man interested in building steam-powered engines. Will thought it a wise investment and to Francis it seemed sound. The engines would be used for mining.
Will took the note. “I actually think that’s a wise decision. Investments will have you paying him off quicker.”
Francis nodded.
“Where is Buckley now?” Morris asked.
“Most likely heading to his estate but he plans to join us at the dinner Mrs. Shaw is giving in a few days.”
“I plan to speak to him then.” A thoughtful expression came over Morris’ face. “I need to see Buckley’s finances because nothing seems right but I don’t believe he’ll allow it if he believes you and I are on good terms.”
“What is your plan?” Francis asked.
“I’ll flirt with Genie.”
Francis glared. “No.”
Morris held up his hands as he leaned against the piano. “Innocently, I swear, but at the same time, I believe it is best that you and I play as though we are at odds.”
Francis shook his head. “There has to be another way.”
“Not a legal one,” Hugh said. “But we could go an illegal route if need be.”
Francis liked that idea better, since Hugh could find anything. All he had to do was break into the man’s estate.
“No.” Frank turned to Hugh. “We’ll need your special set of skills later but for now everything must be legal if we plan to get the contract annulled.”
“Annulled?” Francis asked and looked between Morris and Frank. “What are you two planning?”
“Nothing seems right.” Frank leaned forward in his seat. He glanced Morris’ way before returning his eyes to Francis. “We think your father may have been set up but we can’t confirm this without looking into Buckley’s portfolio.”
Francis straightened. “You think Genie’s father was playing mine all along?”
“In an effort to get to you,” Morris said. “We both know the man didn’t wish Genie to be with you.”
Francis had never thought about it but could see the possibility. The man had demanded his reply that very night, not allowing Francis to sleep on it… or consult anyone about what he’d gotten himself into.
Had Francis spent five years of his life in fear for no reason at all?
He looked between Morris and Frank and said, “I hope you’re right.”
“If we’re not, we do have another plan,” Morris said.
Francis looked around the room. “What is it?”
“I have a contact in America,” Will replied. “I’m planning to invest in his business over there but I would need someone to oversee my interest. We could change your name and you and Genie could live happily with false identities.”
Francis stared at him and then at everyone in the room. He could easily imagine living in America with Genie, but they would never see his friends again or his sister. “If we leave England, I could never come back or I’d face debtor’s prison.”
Morris nodded. “And you’d have to give up for your title and name.”
“Lorena would suffer. She’d lose the house.”
“Not if I bought it from her,” Morris told him. “And I’d enjoy seeing Lord Buckley take me to court.” He grinned.
Francis smiled.
Hugh chuckled. “Or just put him in a room with your mother.”
Morris frowned. “No man deserves such a fate. I’m sure not even the devil will take her in the end.”
Francis laughed because he was probably right. “Thank you,” he told everyone.
Morris smiled and everyone set about making plans for the night to come.
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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Genie jumped when Mr. Taylor cupped her bottom, sending a shock of heat through her. Then she spun and glared at him. “How dare you, Mr. Taylor.”
The attractive and shameless tailor’s cool green eyes held a smile. “Sorry, my lady. Slippery hands.” He held up his steady palms as his mouth split into a knee-weakening grin. He was much too handsome for his own good and Genie had known so since the moment they’d met a few months ago. His hair was black but had grayed at the temples, making him look even more distinguished. More than once, she’d seen young women approach him at parties and balls, never even bothering to hide what they wished from the man or his twin brother, the viscount.
She’d known very well the risk of allowing him to dress her for the evening but she was too nervous about dealing with Francis, Morris, Levander. and Archie to deal with Mr. Taylor any further. He’d been teasing and slightly caressing her since the moment he’d arrived, a hand on her hip to steady her, a brush of his elbow against her breast as he passed. Genie was on edge by the time he undressed her and placed the heart-stopping black dress on her body. The only part of the dress that noted her state of mourning was its color but the material made her look as though she’d bathed in a pool of opals and came out covered in the precious jewels.
“I can’t wear this,” Genie said as she looked in the mirror.
Mr. Taylor leaned forward, pressing against her as his hands settled at her waist. “We can always take it off.” His eyes held hers in the looking glass.
Genie’s face turned red.
“Father, let Genie be,” Sophia called from her seat at the writing desk. Already, she’d begun to draft her column for the papers on Genie’s gown, though she couldn’t very well say that Genie had worn it. It was simply an article to tease the minds of London about a gown that was darker than night and as sweet as licorice. “You’re such a cad.”
Mr. Taylor started to respond with confirmation.
Genie took a breath as she was released and then turned in the mirror. She wished to tell the tailor that she had to take it off but knew he’d feel obligated to assist.
The door opened and Jane came in with the accessories that would complete her costume. Jane was Lorena’s lady’s maid. She, along with Lorena’s butler, the handsome Mr. Sudworth, had accompanied Mr. Taylor to the country. Lorena missed them, and Aunt Tilda needed more hands for the dinner party since she had very few staff members in her home.
Jane pushed Genie’s gloves on and went over to get the jewelry from Sudworth’s hand.
The butler stood by the door with his blue gaze averted for Genie’s modesty, which made Genie wish to laugh. Usually, servants simply held one’s eye and pretended never to see the nudity of their betters, but Sudworth was the most unconventional servant Genie had ever met.
Sophia decided to call Sudworth out on it. “You see there, Father? There is a gentleman if I ever did see one.”
Mr. Taylor looked over at Sudworth and frowned. “Oh, I’m sure Zed enjoys seeing a naked woman just as much as the next man, don’t you?” Zed was the name Mr. Sudworth insisted everyone call him but very few actually did.
Sudworth tilted his dark head and looked toward the roof, his cheeks pinked. “If I’m no longer needed here, perhaps I’ll go downstairs.”
“No, you’re needed,” Mr. Taylor insisted. “I want you to look at Genie and tell me if you find her irresistible. I’ve failed if you don’t.”
“Father.” Sophia stood. “Why must you bother everyone? One would forget you were the son of a viscount at all.”
Her father sighed. “If only everyone would forget.”
“There’s no point in telling him anything.” Jane continued to straighten Genie’s dress. “He’s been bothering Mr. Sudworth since he arrived at Lorena’s house to get us.”
�
��Is this true?” Sophia asked, never questioning how a servant like Jane had the audacity to call the son of viscount out.
“The man is a mystery.” Mr. Taylor moved to sit next to his daughter. “And you know how much I hate mystery unless, of course, I’m the one who created it.” He grinned but his words were true. Zed was a mystery. He’d been a drunkard on the street when Lorena hired him and no one knew a thing about his past. The Men of Nashwood had been slow to accept him but came around when he saved Lorena from a kidnapper. Since then, Zed was almost family.
Mr. Taylor whipped his head around and clapped his hands. “Zed, I command you to look at Genie and tell me what you see.”
Sudworth’s blue eyes turned to Genie. Then he straightened, blinked, and bowed. “You’re beautiful, my lady.”
“Thank you—” Genie began.
“No,” Mr. Taylor cut her off with a glare. “I expected more from you. Come now.”
Sudworth looked at Genie again, stared at her, and smiled. “To love beauty is to see light.”
Genie blushed.
“Well done, Zed.” Mr. Taylor narrowed his eyes. “Now remind me, who wrote that glorious verse?”
“Victor Hugo,” Zed told him. Victor Hugo was one of France’s most noted writers and the creator of such works as Les Misérables and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.
Mr. Taylor gave a sly grin. “Oh, yes, that’s right.” As though he didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were so well read, Mr. Sudworth. You’ve obviously had opportunity to learn somewhere in the last twenty odd years of your life. Tell me, do you read Victor Hugo in English or French?”
Sudworth bowed. “I’m needed downstairs.” Then he left without being dismissed.
Genie frowned at Mr. Taylor. “If you scare him away, Lorena will be terribly upset.”
Mr. Taylor grimaced. “Well, no one wants that.”
The door opened once more and the other women came into the room.
Aunt Tilda hugged Mr. Taylor. “Oh, Taylor, it’s gorgeous.” She looked ready to weep at the design. “I must have one for when I am in mourning. Surely, I’ve a distant cousin on their deathbed?”
“Mother,” Maura chastised.
Tilda had the good sense to look ashamed, though her blue eyes still glittered. She’d been Mr. Taylor’s first female client and was still his favorite.
Everyone approved of Genie’s dress and fawned over her for a complete minute.
“Come, girls,” Tilda finally said. “Our guests have already arrived and are waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Genie’s heart beat rapidly as she hurried with the others toward the drawing room.
Everyone was present when she arrived and her eyes settled on Francis and his blue eyes caught hers right before he stilled. His eyes moved over her and the heat in his gaze traveled up her spine.
“Lady Genevieve.”
She turned and found Levander smiling at her. “You’re beautiful.” He took her hand, held it in both of his, and kissed her knuckles.
She fought back the urge to smile, the stinging in her cheeks, and snatched her hand away.
“That is not a mourning dress.” Archie came to stand by his friend and was not smiling.
“I think she looks lovely,” Levander noted.
Archie blinked and then bowed. “Cousin.”
Genie curtsied. “Lord Buckley.” Then she moved away, heading toward another group. She kept her eyes on where Francis stood, still watching her, but avoided his eyes. Aunt Tilda had advised her to keep her glances secretive and seductive, luring him toward the inevitable. Genie found humor in the fact that Aunt Tilda had taken over where her sister Constance, Lorena’s mother, had left off. Constance had always been Genie’s greatest supporter of marrying her son and now Aunt Tilda encouraged it as well.
Tilda was currently speaking to her nephew, Hugh, and Frank, while Genie found herself standing with Lorena, Morris, and Sophia.
“I can’t believe he dared call you out,” Sophia hissed. She’d obviously overheard Archie’s comment.
“He’s obviously wrong,” Morris' voice rumbled darkly. “For we are definitely mourning the death of my self-control.” His sea-colored eyes were like pools of desire.
Lorena looked surprised.
Sophia stiffened.
Genie laughed and pressed her hand to her warm throat, made a comment about the weather, and then moved on. The next group consisted of Reverend Davis, Mr. Taylor, William, Calvin, and Rollo. The reverend seemed more than politely interested in her bosom but managed to meet her eyes more than the other men, though Mr. Taylor seemed to look at her breasts with pride as opposed to sexual desire, as though he’d formed them with his own hands instead of simply wrapping them in lace. She left as the lurid tailor decided it a good idea to speak to the reverend on the more risqué verses from Song of Solomon.
Finally, she arrived where Aaron, Julius, and Francis were speaking to Aunt Tilda.
Francis turned from the group to speak to her in a whisper. “Evie.” His eyes hadn’t left hers for a moment since he entered the room and she was surprised to see open and conflicting emotions in his eyes.
It set her on alert.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
He looked pained but then he shook his head and the expression was covered by a false smile. “Of course.” He took her hand but kept it low between them so that the rest of the room couldn’t see. “You’re beautiful, Evie.” He looked away and squeezed her hand.
Genie moved closer. “What’s the matter?”
He released her hand and offered her another smile. “Nothing.”
A servant came to say dinner was ready.
“Allow me to escort you?”
Genie jumped to find Morris had spoken. Francis glared at him and her heart rocked in her chest. Did Francis know of Morris’ visit to the Tudor house?
Morris took her hand and led her away from a fuming Francis.
Genie would have snatched her hand from Morris but didn’t want to cause a scene. “Morris, what are you doing? You know I wanted Francis to escort me.”
Morris’ eyes shown with humor. “If Francis had wished to escort you then he should have opened his mouth to say so.”
Genie blinked.
He leaned further in and whispered, “This is what I mean, Genie. I see something I want and I go after it.”
It was only when he looked away that she let out the breath she’d been holding. She was slightly frightened and slightly something else.
Dinner was formal and Genie felt that had been for Buckley as opposed to anyone else. She watched the conversation go on around her and while she tried to send a few seductive smiles in Francis’ direction, all she could manage was concern. He continued to watch her as well or glare at Morris, while Morris spent his time sending ardent blue glances her way, disgust to Francis, and engaging both Lord Buckley and Mr. Cross in a conversation about investments.
Lorena leaned toward her. “What is going on between my brother and Morris?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it about you?” There was worry in her voice.
Genie hoped not. Her heart was racing. She didn’t wish to be the reason a friendship fell apart yet it unraveled like a horrible play before her eyes and the entire table noticed as well. Mr. Cross had cooled his flirtations to soft smiles while Morris’ particular charm reminded her of a huntsman setting her up for a trap that she might enjoy. Francis simply avoided her eyes at all costs, his jaw tight with anger. The others seemed to notice the tension and chosen sides. The room seemed to be split, those in favor of Francis against those on Morris’ side. Duke against duke. It had the makings of war.
“You must kiss him the moment the men return from their port,” Lorena told her.
Genie agreed. It was the only way she saw to end all this.
Once the meal ended, Genie all but ran into the drawing room.
“What just happened?” Aunt Tilda bustled throug
h the door and sighed upon reaching her seat. A maid brought around sherry and she took a glass. “The reverend looked quite disturbed.”
Everyone looked at Genie.
She sank into a couch by the fire and shook her head. “Perhaps we should wait.”
“No,” Lorena said with worry. “You’re supposed to marry my brother. We’re to be sisters.”
Genie smiled at her. “We are sisters.”
Lorena took the seat next to her and took her hand as she tried for a smile. They stared at one another, each thinking of the dreams they’d held close to their hearts since they were children.
Genie frowned and recalled the moment she’d shared with Francis in the forest and how it had all started when she’d glimpsed the crucifix. Would he have stolen her necklace if he didn’t love her?
She straightened and smiled. “I’m going to do it.”
Wide smiles greeted her and Genie knew her future was about to change.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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“This is working,” Julius said as he sipped his port.
Francis rarely looked in the direction of Morris as he spoke with Levander and Archie but overheard them discuss setting up a business meeting. Their plan was working but the one he feared the most was the one that he knew Lorena and her friends were up to. “Something isn’t right about this party.”
“Much isn’t right about this party,” Aaron replied from his other side. His dark blue eyes were almost black in the parlor’s dim glow as he stared at his glass. His grim expression reminded Francis of the portrait of the man’s father, the former Earl of Jeanshire. “Fifteen guineas says something else is afoot here.”
Genie’s Scandalous Spinster’s Society Page 9