Page 20 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
“Mother was gracious enough to spare me for the afternoon so I might come and visit.” Margery removed her bonnet and cloak and handed those to the footman, then faced Geny with laughter in her eyes. “Although I suppose I did not give her much choice in the matter.”
Geny turned to the footman, who hovered by the door waiting for instructions. “Adam, have some tea brought for us. That is all we will need.”
Margery sat across from her and waited until the door closed behind them before piercing Geny with an intent look. There was still a hint of a smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with interest. “Now who is he?”
Geny did not pretend ignorance. “Heis the new steward,” adding the emphasis although she was sure her friend would remember.
“From the asylum. I was sure I had remembered the name!” Margery exclaimed.
“Exactly. I was astonished to find him at Mrs. Sookholme’s. He said that a friend had secured an invitation for him to attend. What did you think of him?”
Margery sat back and cast her eyes up, as though attempting to conjure up his image. Geny did not need any such assistance to call his face to mind. Throughout the evening, she had glanced in his direction more than once, as he stood in conversation with two of the gentlemen she recognized as having donated to the asylum. Thankfully, he was facing away and did not see her pointed interest. She hoped no one else did. Then, at the end of the night, he caught her regard before leaving and dipped his head in a bow. The small gesture of recognition had sent a surge of delight through her.
“He is a handsome man, I will give you that.” Margerybrought her attention back to Geny. “Truly, I have never known anyone to catch your eye before, and that is what intrigues me the most. Unless, of course, you are hiding a score of suitors at the various balls I am not invited to.”
Geny laughed. “No, you know of every one of my suitors—of which there are precisely none.”
“There have not always been none,” Margery reminded her. “There was Mr. Saxton?—”
“Who said he found orphans to be nasty little creatures,” Geny finished for her.
“And then there was Mr. Davidson, who has fifteen thousand a year?—”
“Who spit at me when he talked,” Geny said, pulling her mouth down in distaste. “So you see why I have not been interested in any of the ones my father has put before my notice.”
“I do. There is only one thing that worries me,” Margery said.
Her friend hesitated, her face more serious than Geny was accustomed to. She did not like where this was going—did not like the idea that Margery would find fault with Mr. Rowles and thought she knew where the hesitation might be coming from.
“It is only because he is not a gentleman that you seek to put me on my guard. But you are being more prejudiced than I,” Geny protested. “If anyone should find fault with the disparity of our station, it should be me or no one.”
Margery shook her head. “No, it is not that. I only wish for a husband who is worthy of you and who loves you, nothing more. As much as I am in doubt of finding such happiness for myself, I feel certain you will find your perfect match. It is only…do you remember the gentleman my mother was speaking to last night when you came up to us?”
“She spoke to a great number of gentlemen—unless it was the one she was urging you in the carriage to favor with your attention?”
“The very one. Mr. Thompson. She has hopes in his direction, which of course must be dashed.”
Margery paused and swiveled to look as Adam entered the room, carrying the tea platter, a maid trailing behind him. Together, they set out the tea and cakes before withdrawing, allowing Margery to continue. “Mr. Thompson said that at first glance he mistook your Mr. Rowles for another gentleman by the name of Mr. John Aubin.”
Geny waited for more, and when nothing was forthcoming, replied, “It is natural to mistake a person for someone else.”
“That is true, which is why I do not hold much stock in what he says.” Margery dropped her gaze to her hands in a rare sign of reticence. “However, he did say that Mr. Aubin was chased out of town. In essence, he was shunned by society and blackballed by the clubs he was a member of. Mr. Thompson doesn’t know him personally, for he does not mingle in those circles. But his friend pointed him out at a boxing match amidst the spectators in January.” She smoothed the gloves she held on her lap, then raised her eyes to Geny’s. “Mr. Rowles bore a decided air to the gentleman he had seen there. He admitted that it was at night, and he had only a brief glance, which allows that he might have been mistaken.”
“Well, there you have it.” Geny shrugged. “It is no more than a rumor or a mistake.”
“Yes.” Margery dragged out the word, then drew in a quick breath. “I am sure it is that. I would not worry about it were it not that this Mr. Aubin is reputed to be a terrible man. A hardened gamester who cleaned out another gentleman in one night by cheating, thereby ruining him. A frequenter of the less reputable establishments. A penchant for strong drink.”
It was strange that Margery would so insist on a chance remark. Besides, Geny could not picture any similarities between Mr. Rowles and such a man. He was nothing like that Mr. Aubin. She sensed his kindness and his stability and trustedit to be genuine. She crinkled her brows. “Even so, you said that Mr. Thompson admitted he was probably mistaken.”
“’Tis true. My concern comes only from a sense of protectiveness for you, but if you think the suggestion preposterous then I believe you.” Margery studied her expression until a smile appeared. “It appears you have already given your heart to Mr. Rowles, haven’t you?”
For the sake of something to do—something to manage the feelings that were too new and raw—Geny leaned down and stirred tea leaves into the pot, then sat back. She was nervous. Excited. It was hard to contain such emotions, and she could not for the life of her hide them from her best friend.
“I don’t know what it is, for I hardly know the man, but each time I am in his presence, I cannot help but like him more. Yes, he is a handsome man, but it is beyond that. There is a quality to him impossible to explain. I can’t help but be drawn to him. And Idolike him.” She briefly covered her face with her hands to hide the laughter that escaped her lips, then sat back upright, as though her governess might still be watching and ready to scold. “He said that he found my character beautiful and without equal. I have not stopped thinking about that.”
“Did he?” Margery’s widened eyes showed just what she thought of the compliment. “I must like the man too, then, for he clearly has good taste. Another reason to ignore Mr. Thompson. He is no judge of character.”
Geny laughed. “Do not be so hard on Mr. Thompson. It was an innocent mistake.” A comfortable silence fell between them and Geny poured tea for them both.
