Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady

by Tiffany Clare

  “I do.” Genny had to wipe the water from her eyes again. “I’m sorry about all my tears. I can’t seem to control them.”

  “I’m doing nothing your mother wouldn’t do if she were alive today.” Lady Carleton engulfed Genny in a consoling hug. “Now go and bring that rascal, Barrington, in line.”

  It wasn’t Barrington she needed to bring in line, but she understood that the countess wanted her to start on the right foot in her life of ruin. And that would mean marriage to the man who had ruined her. She wasn’t ready to take that step, she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for that kind of forgiveness.

  “I hope you are right.”

  Lady Carleton released her and smiled warmly. “I am. Your bags are loaded and the carriage ready. We’ll see each other soon enough.”

  “Your kindness means more than I can ever put into words.”

  The countess smiled and patted Genny’s face again before giving instructions to her stable hand.

  “Oliver, I’m leaving Miss Camden in your ever capable and trusting hands. Take her wherever she needs to go. Stable the horses at our London residence and wait there a few days in the event that Miss Camden needs your assistance for anything.”

  One of the young stable hands took her hand and helped her up the steps of the carriage. When she settled herself inside she drew the blind.

  Lady Carleton nodded approvingly. “Keep the curtain drawn when you are closer to London.”

  With one final nod, Genny gave directions to the driver. She had to confront the dowager countess, because no one could act in the manner that woman had acted and not deal with any consequences. And now that she couldn’t protect Charlotte, she had to make the other woman realize the wrong she’d committed, and hopefully, sway her onto a less destructive path where others were concerned.

  Perhaps it wasn’t her place to do such a thing, but if she didn’t, how could she ever live with herself if Charlotte ended up being an old spinster? Genny would ensure that her cousin married Mr. Warren.

  Chapter 22

  The Dowager F___ received not one but two midnight visitors last night. She’s more usually found out and about town gambling through the wee hours of morning, but this new habit is unlike her. Could this have something to do with her short sojourn from society just after her husband’s funeral? Is this a new game that she’s caught up in? Oh, the secrets and lies I crave to uncover where she is concerned.

  The Mayfair Chronicles, August 8, 1846

  The carriage ride lasted a few hours, the pace remained steady but not rushed so the horses weren’t overexerted. Genny thought she had dozed for an hour or two in the even rut of the road, and woken with the first rays of morning light.

  As instructed, she shut the blinds when they neared Town. It was quite early in the day, and Genny wondered if the dowager countess would even be awake.

  What if Genny wasn’t given admittance to the dowager’s residence?

  It was a silly thought brought on by her exhaustion. She simply would stand outside the dowager’s house until she was allowed to enter if she was refused.

  It felt as if she had had no time to prepare what she wanted to say before the door to the carriage was opened, and Oliver was offering his hand to help her down the steps. Gathering her courage, she pulled her hood forward on her cloak before she took his hand to be let down the steps.

  “I’ll be waiting here for you, miss. Till someone comes out and tells me where you’ll be staying this evening. I’ll be taking you back to my mistress’s house if you haven’t a place to stay. My lady’s orders.”

  “You’ve already done so much for me. You must be as exhausted as I am if not more. Lady Carleton’s house is only around the corner from here. I’ll be able to find you should I need you. And I might be here for some hours. Please, go and rest.”

  “I hope you’ll understand when I say I can’t leave you, miss. Wouldn’t be right at this time of the day. Asides, no one will know it’s the Carleton carriage waiting outside for you.”

  He gave her a charming wink.

  Genny reached out and squeezed Oliver’s callused hands. “Thank you.”

  She lifted her skirts slightly so she didn’t trip on her hem traversing the stairs. Once at the top, she rapped the knocker firmly and stepped back.

  A young man dressed in a tailed black suit opened the door.

  “If that is Mr. Warren again, tell him I’ll have someone tie his balls off before he can so much as scream for his mother.” The dowager came into view as the footman opened the door fully. She wore a Chinese robe in scarlet, which was decorated with little gold dragons dancing across the sash and hems. Her hair was unbound and fell in a long braid over her shoulder. She’d been about to shout out some other obscenity, Genny was sure, but paused when she saw it was not Mr. Warren at the door.

  “And who are you?” The dowager raised one brow at Genny.

  “Miss Camden, my lady.” She gave a bow, even though this woman deserved no courtesies, and lifted her chin as she gazed back at the woman who had helped ruin her life.

  “Do I know you?”

  “No, you don’t. But I know a great deal about you. If you would.” She indicated with a motion of her hand that she wished to enter. “I have a private matter to discuss with you.”

  The dowager peered around Genny’s shoulder and stared at the unmarked carriage. “Who sent you?”

  “I came on my own after learning of your scheme to ruin my cousin’s engagement to Mr. Warren.”

  The countess rushed forward, pulled her through the door without preamble, and slammed it behind Genny’s confused and slightly shaken form. “Let’s not announce our misdeeds to the world, Miss Camden.”

  Genny raised her chin and scowled at the woman before her. “They were not my misdeeds.”

  “Where did you come by this information?”

  “Barrington told me what you planned.”

  “Leo? Why would…” The countess had an odd look about her as she accessed Genny with renewed interest. “Come, we’ll take this to the parlor.”

  Lady Fallon turned and left so quickly that Genny was forced to catch up to her at a near jog. The room they entered was dark with all the window shutters closed tight. A single lamp on the center table was the only illumination.

  “Please excuse the state of the house. I go from loving and hating it alternately. When I hate it, things are broken, so we’ve left the windows dark.”

  Genny wasn’t sure how to respond to the countess’s honesty.

  “Sit, please. We may be here a while.” The countess lounged on a chaise. She motioned to the chairs and settee across from her when Genny stood frozen to the spot.

  “I only came to ask that you leave my cousin alone.” Genny perched herself on the edge of a chair. There was no sense in getting comfortable, she wasn’t staying overly long.

  Lady Fallon yawned rudely. “She’d be better without Mr. Warren, you know.”

  “Whom my cousin should marry is not your decision to make.”

  “I’ll be saving her from a long life filled with nothing but misery.”

  “Do we even know the same man who is courting my cousin?” Genny frowned. “He’s been nothing but kind.”

  Lady Fallon picked up a fan and flicked it open to fan her face. “They always are in the beginning. It’s how they lure in young pliable brides.”

  “So it’s your cynical nature that led you to the simple decision to change the course of my cousin’s life.”

  “Not precisely, but I’m bored with this conversation.” Lady Fallon leaned forward. “Now tell me what Leo told you.”

  “Why should I? Is it not enough that he’s told me everything? Shouldn’t you feel some sort of regret for your part in this?”

  “I feel nothing actually.”

  Genny closed her mouth. What exactly was the countess referring to? Certainly not her cousin’s situation. She leaned back against the cushioned seat. She might have to approach this
matter differently. “Why did you do it?”

  “You don’t know me, Miss Camden. Why would you care what my reasons are?”

  “I suppose I don’t need to hear your reasoning.” Genny knew that once her purpose was stated, the countess might be less than friendly. “I want reassurance that you’ll leave my cousin alone.”

  “I have a suspicion that Lady Charlotte won’t need me to persuade her to not marry Mr. Warren.” The countess picked up a glass half full of champagne and twirled the flute around in circles. “Not only is Mr. Warren a complete bore, he’s an imbecile.”

  Genny pinched her lips together, knowing that a rebuttal would probably only have Lady Fallon continuing her tirade. She stood from the chair. Her trip here was for nothing. This woman would never listen to what Genny had to say, not with open ears and heart as she’d hoped.

  Lady Fallon lowered her fan and eyed her. “Have I already frightened you off?”

  Should she admit she had? “It does me no good to talk to a brick wall.”

  The dowager countess laughed. Her hand clapped against her chest as she fell back on the settee, gales of laughter flowing from her.

  “Calculating, frosty, degenerate, harlot, charlatan, and player. Those are the typical choice words society showers down on me.” Lady Fallon shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever been likened to a brick wall.”

  Genny just stared at the woman. She was mad, and it had never occurred to her before that the dowager countess might not be in possession of all her faculties.

  Backing up a few steps, Genny said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”

  “Don’t let me frighten you off.”

  The way the dowager said it made Genny momentarily forget she was in the lair of someone who had orchestrated her cousin’s downfall, and through happenstance, Genny’s reputation.

  There was a split second where she wanted to give this woman the benefit of the doubt and offer friendship to that lonely voice. But only a split second.

  “You are the chaperone Hayden mentioned, so I imagine you are needed back at your duties.”

  Genny put her shoulders back. She would not cower because she’d been ruined. “Was…” She held her head high. “I was the chaperone.”

  “Oh, my wicked ears hear a story in the making.” The dowager’s interest was piqued, and she sat up with renewed interest in Genny. “What has changed your circumstance?”

  What did she have to lose in telling Lady Fallon the truth? The gossip was sure to make it back to London in a matter of days, if it hadn’t already. “Lord Barrington.”

  Lady Fallon’s sharp gaze pierced right through Genny as though searching for the truth with a mere look.

  “So that is what has occupied my friend’s attention this past month.”

  “A ruse, I assure you. One that finally played out in his favor.”

  Lady Fallon’s head tilted to the side. “You have nowhere to go, do you?”

  “Does it matter?” Genny responded defensively.

  “Perhaps I’m offering a bone.” Lady Fallon put her feet on the floor and set her champagne on the side table; probably a good thing since it was far too early to imbibe. “Don’t you think you should consider nibbling if only to humor me?”

  “No.” Genny clasped her hands to keep from pulling at the string on her reticule. She’d expected her meeting with Lady Fallon to be awkward, just not quite this awkward. “I think it most unwise. I only came—”

  “To persuade me onto the righteous, more acceptable, and sanctified path I should be following?”

  “No. I only wanted you to leave Charlotte alone. She is my closest family—”

  “And yet you’ve been locked out of her life and labeled a harlot.”

  “I am no harlot.” Genny was sick to death of being called that vile name. “And I see my time here is wasted.”

  Genny made her way to the door. Just before she reached it, the dowager suddenly rushed forward and blocked the exit.

  “Where will you go?” Lady Fallon asked with a pensive look.

  “Your moral obligation to me is nonexistent. Please, let me by.”

  Lady Fallon didn’t move. “Is it hard to believe that I might have changed my ways?”

  “I can’t see why.” Genny crossed her arms stubbornly over her waist. “Shouldn’t you be gloating at your achievement?”

  “To do so would mean I indulge in life freely.” The dowager set her shoulder against the door frame. “Sad to say, nothing comes free in life. Especially mine.”

  “You don’t enjoy a certain amount of freedom then?”

  The countess ignored her question. “You should stay. I have so many empty rooms that it would be a shame to not use them before I’m kicked out of my own house.”

  Genny looked at the countess for a long moment. She’d nearly forgotten that she was penniless and had nothing left from her marriage.

  Was the dowager trying to make amends with her? “Are you feeling remorse for putting me into a destitute situation similar to what you find yourself in?”

  “Not at all.” She moved away from the door so that Genny could leave if she so chose. “But I’d like the company and I imagine Leo will come looking for you. And if you are not in my possession, I’ll not know how to locate you.”

  Lady Fallon was the oddest woman Genny had ever met. First she showed no compunction in planning to destroy her cousin’s path in life, and now she was extending an olive branch to Genny because she’d inadvertently ruined her instead of Charlotte.

  “Why should you care?”

  “Because Leo is my friend. And he has remained a devoted friend despite what the rags have printed about me.” The countess looked vulnerable with that admittance.

  The door was open should she wish to leave, so why didn’t Genny budge? “Leo’s no better than you.”

  “Prejudice is but one form of ignorance, Miss Camden.” Lady Fallon crossed her arms in front of her and tapped her fingers on one arm. “Now, breakfast is being served in one hour. Shall I ask the cook to prepare two dishes?”

  Why not? Genny asked herself. Staying with Lady Fallon would give her time to find decent accommodations of her own. And though she wanted to make an enemy of this woman, she couldn’t. The dowager was—yet she wasn’t—a contradiction to everything printed about her.

  Lifting her reticule, Genny placed it on a chair. “There is a carriage outside waiting for my direction. I need to tell him that I’ve found temporary accommodations.”

  Lady Fallon motioned to the door. As Genny went out to talk to Oliver, she felt as if she’d formed—not a friendship per se—but an odd alliance with the countess.

  Chapter 23

  Oh, the betting books are so full of the best fodder! When one can be amused by the actions and failures of others, what does it say about society today? Yet, without the characters that rely upon gossip, wherever would your reliable gossip columnist be?

  The Mayfair Chronicles, August 9, 1846

  Leo hadn’t been his normal self since arriving home two days ago. Tristan hadn’t been in residence so he couldn’t settle that old score. And he didn’t want to face Jez just yet.

  To say that he had lived the life of a recluse since arriving in Town might be an understatement. Not once had he left his house. Nor had anyone bothered to visit since his knocker was put back on his door.

  And in all the time since he’d been home, he hadn’t come up with a decent plan to win Genny back. The house party would be over, and everyone returning to London over the next couple of days, so he had better come up with a plan soon.

  Should he formally call upon Genny or even Lord Ponsley and state his intention to court and marry her? The great flaw in that plan was that Genny might refuse to see him. However, that did not mean he would give up his suit.

  Marks tied his cravat and helped him into his jacket. Fresh air always cleared his mind, so he stepped out the door for a walk in the park. This afternoon he was meet
ing with Hayden at the club. Perhaps his friend would have a few ideas for winning back Genny’s affections.

  He missed her. Missed their walks in the morning, trailing after her cousin, their sultry evenings, stealing kisses whenever the mood presented itself, their nights lying out under the stars. Most of all, he missed hearing about her childhood and family as he told her tales of his life growing up while they lay in bed together.

  His cane clicked against the paved path with each step. Every so often he was forced to dip his head and return the gestures of the ladies offering him a hallo, a nod, or an invitation to walk with them. He was too much of a bear right now to spend any time with others. He didn’t expect he’d be in a decent mood again till he and Genny had reconciled.

  There was definitely something to be said about that. The best thing he could do with regard to Genny was beg her forgiveness and then ask for her hand in marriage every day until she was sick of refusing him.

  Who would have thought two months ago that Genny would irrevocably snag his affections all over again, and that he’d want nothing more than to call her his wife?

  He stopped on reaching the Serpentine and turned to face the river. The trickle of water had always had a soothing effect on him.

  To win Genny back, he needed her forgiveness and that meant confronting Jez. Jez needed to understand the error of what they had planned, and he wanted to ensure that no other young ladies ever need worry for their reputations when Jez—or any of their set—singled them out.

  Enough time had passed for her to grieve her loss. She’d be in a much better form to hear what he thought of their latest charade from his own lips if Hayden or Tristan hadn’t already discussed it with her.

  Attuned to his own thoughts, he took no notice of his surroundings until a short, blonde fairy tugged on his jacket.

  Leo stared down into the innocent blue eyes of Ronnie and offered her the first genuine smile he’d had the strength to muster in days.

  “Well, if it isn’t a little imp tugging at my coat.”