The Marrying Season

by Candace Camp

  “Really, Genevieve, why did you go to the library to meet Sir Myles?” Lady Rawdon asked crossly. “Surely you must have realized the impropriety.”

  “Yes, of course, but . . . well, it was Myles,” Genevieve said, realizing how weak her excuse sounded.

  “I should hope that Sir Myles would not have been so foolish as to put you in a compromising situation,” the countess retorted. “I cannot imagine why you did not know that.”

  “Apparently you know him better than I,” Genevieve replied somewhat resentfully.

  “You must be careful to keep this to yourself. It would sound even worse if the ton learned you had intended to meet a man secretly, especially since you were engaged to another. Accidentally running into a man whom everyone knows is a rake is far less damaging than arranging trysts.”

  “It wasn’t a tryst.” Genevieve’s eyes flashed.

  “Of course not, dear, but that is not the point. Everyone would assume it was a tryst, and that is what matters. The gossip has died down for the most part, but if this was known, it would flare up all over again.”

  Genevieve started to retort, but she held her tongue. She had learned long ago that it was of no use to argue with her grandmother, especially over something that she had no plans of doing, anyway. Instead she said mildly, “I suspect the talk will revive as soon as I make an appearance.”

  “Yes, of course, but there’s no need to add wood to the fire.” Lady Rawdon paused, thinking. “I don’t see why this news brought the two of you back to town.”

  “Mr. Langdon obviously must have arranged the whole thing. He is even more culpable than we thought. Myles was furious, and he means to find him.”

  “Oh, bother.” Lady Rawdon grimaced. “I would have thought Sir Myles would have more sense. As it is, I have managed to keep Alec from doing something outrageous, but once he hears this . . .” She shook her head. “I do hope Sir Myles will keep his head enough that this isn’t made public.”

  “He doesn’t intend to have a duel at dawn with the man, if that is what you mean. But I think we deserve to confront the man who threw me into a very public scandal.”

  “The fact that you may ‘deserve’ it does not make it an intelligent course of action.” Lady Rawdon waved a hand, dismissing the subject. “Well, there’s no need to talk about that now. I shall leave you to get some rest. Hopefully Mr. Langdon will be bright enough not to show his face in London until Sir Myles has calmed down.” Her grandmother hesitated, then came forward to lay her hand on Genevieve’s cheek. “I am glad you are finding married life acceptable.”

  “Thank you, Grandmama.” Impulsively Genevieve leaned forward to give her grandmother a peck on the cheek. “I am . . . quite comfortable.”

  “Very good. I told the butler to put Sir Myles in the yellow room. It is not the best view, but I thought it the likelier choice since it is next door.”

  “Oh.” Genevieve was aware of a curious sense of disappointment. She had grown accustomed the past few days to Sir Myles’s presence in her bed. But that had been the product of the circumstances. They were back in the world again, taking up their normal routines. “Of course.”

  After her grandmother left the room, Genevieve sank down on the chair before the fireplace. Xerxes padded over to leap up into her lap. Oddly, here in this familiar room, she felt lonelier than she had in days.

  Throughout their drive to London, the atmosphere between Genevieve and Myles had been strained. They had not brought up the issue of the note that had precipitated their trip, instead discussing setting up their household in the Thorwood home in London, which the family had not used for several years. But through all the discussions of ongoing renovations and such things as decorating, hiring servants, and setting up a town carriage, Genevieve could not help but brood over their argument. Now she wondered whether, with Myles having a separate bedroom, he would even come into her room tonight.

  She busied herself with getting ready for bed, but finally, wrapped in her dressing gown, her hair down, she could find nothing else to do, and she sat down in the chair by the window. It would be foolish to stay up. Myles might decide to wait up to speak with Alec when he got back. He might be tired and go straight to bed. She sat for a few more minutes. The sound of the front door’s closing roused her from her reverie, and she stood up to look out the window.

  Myles was walking down the street away from her. Doubtless he was heading for White’s or some other club to see his friends. To drink and gamble and . . . do all those things a gentleman of the ton did. It was no surprise. They were back in London; it was only natural that Myles was returning to his usual routine.

  Genevieve turned away, her throat tightening. Slipping out of her dressing gown, she snuffed out her candle and went to bed.

  When Genevieve went downstairs for breakfast the next morning, she found Sir Myles and her grandmother already seated at the table. Myles popped up from his seat with a look of relief. “Genevieve.”

  “Sir Myles and I were just discussing the renovations to his house,” Lady Rawdon said as Genevieve sat down in the chair Myles pulled out for her.

  “Yes, and I fear the countess found me sadly lacking in knowledge,” Myles added. “I told her you were taking over all the arrangements with the house.”

  “Yes, of course.” Genevieve gave him a tight smile. She wondered when he had come in the night before; he certainly did not look like a man who had spent half the night out carousing. She turned toward her grandmother. “I thought I would look at the house this morning, Grandmama. Why don’t you and Damaris come with me?”

  “Certainly, dear.”

  “Genevieve. Myles.” They all turned as Alec strode into the room. He came over to kiss his sister’s cheek. “Good to see you, Genny. I was surprised to find Myles here when we returned last night.” He sat down, adding with a frown, “You must excuse Damaris. She does not feel well enough for breakfast these days.”

  “I am sure she will be fine, Alec.” Genevieve glanced at her grandmother, who gave her a sardonic look. “ ’Tis only to be expected. She feels well the rest of the day, does she not?”

  “She says she does,” Alec replied doubtfully, picking up a piece of toast and beginning to butter it. “I’m not sure we should have gone to that play last night.”

  “Every one of my sisters has gone through it, Alec,” Myles put in. “All of them did perfectly well. You’ll see.”

  “But none of them were Damaris,” Alec pointed out unarguably.

  “I never realized Damaris was so frail,” Genevieve mused.

  “She’s not.” Alec shot his sister a dark glance. “It’s all very well for you to laugh, Genny. You, too, Myles.” He waggled his butter knife at Myles. “Just wait until you go through it. You’ll find it’s an entirely different thing.”

  Genevieve glanced over at Myles and found him regarding her thoughtfully. She felt a flush begin to rise up her throat, and she hastily returned her attention to her plate.

  The countess cleared her throat delicately. “Be that as it may, Alec, I think you will agree that this is hardly a fit topic for the breakfast table.”

  “Of course, ma’am.” Alec tucked into his breakfast.

  Alec waited until their grandmother excused herself to get ready for their morning excursion, then turned to his sister. “Myles told me what happened. That bastard Langdon. I should have taken care of him that night. I don’t know why I let Damaris dissuade me.”

  “Perhaps because you were being sensible for once,” Genevieve suggested. “I hope the two of you will consider that before you charge off to do something to him now.”

  “The man has to be taught that he cannot treat my sister that way,” Alec told her sharply.

  “My wife,” Myles corrected in a calm but firm tone. When Alec turned toward him, somewhat surprised, Myles continued, “I respect your sentiments, Alec, but Genevieve is my wife now. And it is my place to take care of her.”

  Alec looked as if he mi
ght argue, but then he gave a short nod. “You are right, of course. How can I help?” He looked to Myles.

  Genevieve crossed her arms, irritation rising in her at the way the two of them were claiming ownership of the issue. Of her.

  “I want the name of your Bow Street runner,” Myles told Alec. “I went out last night to see if I could find out anything about Langdon, but no one has seen him since that night.”

  “You went looking for him?” Genevieve asked. “You didn’t tell me you were going to.”

  Myles glanced at her, startled. “Well, not the sort of thing one talks about to a lady.”

  “I’ll be glad to give you my runner’s name,” Alec put in. “In fact, I’ll take you to meet him this evening and we’ll set him to finding Langdon.”

  “Excellent. Do you think we—”

  “And I, I suppose, have nothing to say about the matter?” Genevieve asked in an icy voice. “Of course, why should I? I am only the one whose reputation was damaged.”

  Her brother and her husband turned to look at her in some surprise.

  “But, Genevieve, surely you can’t expect us to ignore this,” Myles said. “We shan’t be indiscreet, I promise you.”

  “Of course not,” Alec agreed. “Parker knows how to keep his mouth shut; I have used him before.”

  “I don’t expect you to ignore it,” Genevieve said. “But has it occurred to you that I might like to confront this man myself? I want to go with you to meet the runner. Oh, do stop gaping at me, both of you. Why shouldn’t I be involved?”

  “Genevieve, I meet him at a tavern by the docks,” Alec said. “It’s not the sort of place for you.”

  “Oh, I see, it’s not appropriate—unlike all those places you took Damaris last year when those men were chasing you.”

  “That was different.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, um, Damaris is not—I mean, she was—we were—” Alec stumbled to a halt and turned to Myles.

  “Genevieve, it just isn’t done,” Myles protested. “What would your grandmother say?”

  “My grandmother? I am a grown woman. Married, in case you have forgotten. Am I still required to live by my grandmother’s dictates? Oh, and yours, of course.”

  “But it’s hardly something that you would wish to do.” Myles looked puzzled.

  “No doubt you would know that better than I. Just as you knew last night I would not want to be told you were going out to search for Langdon. And I would have no interest, of course, in hearing what the results of that search were. It has long been my preference to sit in ignorance, waiting for someone else to take care of my worries.”

  “You sat up waiting for me?” Myles asked, surprised. “My dear, I am sor—”

  “I did not sit up waiting for you!” Genevieve snapped, slapping her napkin down on the table and shoving her chair back sharply.

  “You would probably prefer to discuss this between yourselves,” Alec began, rising hastily to his feet.

  “Coward,” Myles muttered.

  “Oh, no, Alec, pray do not bother,” Genevieve told him with exaggerated sweetness. “You and Myles should continue to decide my life for me. I shall just go tend to my little ‘women’s business.’ ” She stalked to the door and turned. “I hope it is appropriate if I look at your house this morning, Myles. Since my grandmother will be along, it should not be too scandalous. But you might want to send word to your man of business, giving me permission to look at it. I should not want to step out of line.” She closed the door behind her with a snap.

  Fourteen

  I did warn you she had the Stafford temper,” Genevieve heard her brother say before she strode off down the hall. She thought of turning back to give Alec a piece of her mind, too, but she decided that would only reinforce the idea that her temper was at fault. She stalked down the hall and up the stairs. At the top she ran into Damaris, who looked lovely and rosy-cheeked and not at all in the fragile state Alec had drawn of her.

  “Genevieve!” Damaris’s smile fell away as she took in Genevieve’s scowl. “Oh, dear. Should I not go down?”

  “Not unless you enjoy eating your meal with two of the most obtuse, irritating men in the city.”

  “Ah. Well.” Damaris turned and fell into step beside her. “I wasn’t interested in eating anyway. I was going there to see you.”

  “I fear I am not very good company, either.”

  “What happened? Are they arguing? I’m terribly sorry; I did not mean to break your confidence. It’s most irritating; Alec knows me all too well. I find it’s difficult to hide anything from him. But I thought Myles had explained everything, and Alec was not angry with him.”

  “Oh, no, they are not angry with each other. The two of them are quite happily making plans for dealing with my life. There’s no need to apologize. You are not at fault.”

  “Ah. I see.” Damaris nodded wisely. “They are ‘protecting’ you.”

  Genevieve snorted inelegantly. “They are plotting revenge on Mr. Langdon. I am the one who was wronged! But apparently I am too delicate and refined to confront the man myself.” She stopped and swung around to face Damaris. “He had the nerve to tell me that it just wasn’t done. Myles! Lecturing to me on what is proper and what isn’t!”

  “Men can be most aggravating,” Damaris agreed, and took Genevieve’s arm, leading her down the hallway to the upstairs sitting room.

  “Of course, it’s all part and parcel of the rest of it. Myles has been in a mood since he heard about the note.”

  “I am sure he is angry at Langdon for playing such a trick on you.”

  “He is looking for Langdon to take it out on, but it is me at whom he’s angry.”

  “You? But why?”

  “I don’t know!” Genevieve cried, pleased to find someone who understood her side of the matter. “He says I should have known he wouldn’t have sent me the note. But it isn’t as if I thought he had some wicked intent by doing it. I presumed he needed to tell me something in a more private way than the dance floor allowed. Is that wrong?”

  “No, of course not,” Damaris agreed soothingly.

  “What would he have had me do? Ignore an urgent missive from him? How was I to know it wasn’t in his hand? It isn’t as if I’d had any letters from him. And when I pointed that out, all he could say was of course he wouldn’t have written me any letters, he wouldn’t set out to damage a girl’s reputation—as if I had suggested he had!”

  “It sounds as if he was being most unreasonable.”

  “Exactly.” Genevieve nodded emphatically. “Then he was upset because I had not told him about the note. But why would I have told him? I thought he was the one who sent it to me. I was careful not to say anything about it because I didn’t want him to think I blamed him for what happened. I was trying to be fair. To be nice.” She grimaced. “For all the good it did me.”

  “I have found that men are . . . imperfect when it comes to telling you how they feel. Or even being aware of it themselves. I suspect Myles was upset because of what happened to you and because he was not there to prevent it. Worse, it was the use of his name that lured you into it. I think Alec often flares into anger because he is frightened.”

  “Alec? Frightened?” Genevieve asked dubiously.

  “He has little fear for himself. But when he thinks of something happening to me, it scares him, especially when it is something he cannot control. That is why he is in such a twitter about my ‘condition.’ He cannot protect me from harm, so he fusses until it’s enough to drive me mad.” Damaris smiled fondly. “He is furious that he cannot convince the best doctor in London to spend the next six months in Northumberland looking after my lying-in. But I know his anger is because he feels helpless. I am sure Myles must feel that way, too, about not keeping you from harm.”

  “But Alec loves you. Myles and I are not like that.”

  “Oh, Genevieve . . .” Damaris took both Genevieve’s hands in hers. “I am sure Myles cares for you
.”

  “I am sure he does, as I care for him, of course.” Genevieve turned away, going over to the window. “We have known each other these many years past. We are friends, but it is not the same as you and Alec.” She thought with a pang of Myles’s leaving the house the previous night. “He went out looking for Mr. Langdon yesterday,” she went on, her words following her thoughts. “There is nothing wrong with that, of course. I don’t expect Myles to sit in my pocket. But he did not tell me where he was going or what he planned. He did not ask me even one question about what I wanted to do about Mr. Langdon.”

  “Even though you are the person who was injured by Mr. Langdon.”

  “Exactly.” Genevieve swung back around. “Myles wanted to come to London all by himself! I had to insist on accompanying him. Now he and Alec are going to meet with that Bow Street runner to set him to finding Langdon. But of course I cannot go with them; it would be indecent. Do you know Myles had the effrontery to ask me what my grandmother would say about my behaving that way?”

  “Oh, my.” Damaris shook her head. She thought for a moment. “You know, there might be other ways to go about finding out what happened and where Mr. Langdon is. Things women might be handier at discovering.”

  “What do you mean?” Intrigued, Genevieve came over to sit down beside her sister-in-law.

  “Mr. Langdon couldn’t have just given the note to you himself, so there must be someone else involved.”

  “Just a maid.” Genevieve straightened. “But of course. It’s possible she might have known more about it. Perhaps she even knew him. I cannot remember exactly what she said when she handed it to me.”

  “It must have been one of Thea’s servants,” Damaris pointed out. “We can visit Thea and talk to the girl.”

  “Of course!” Genevieve popped to her feet. “We’ll go—no, wait, I told Grandmama we would go look at the Thorwood house today. Myles set his man of business to having it made ready for us to live in—Myles’s mother never came to London after his father died, so Myles didn’t bother to open up the place just for himself. The countess was quizzing Myles about it this morning at breakfast.” The memory of Myles’s harried expression brought a smile to her lips. “So I told her she and I would inspect it—you will come, too, I hope. But I can’t change my plans.”