Genie’s Scandalous Spinster’s Society (The Spinster’s Society Book 3)

by Charlotte Stone

  “That’s a bet you’d be taking all on your own,” Julius replied. “Did you see Genie’s gown?”

  “There wasn’t much to see.” Aaron smiled but it fell away under Francis’ expression. “Or maybe she simply wished to shock you into proposing.”

  “But why is the vicar here?” Francis asked.

  Julius shrugged. “To continue to give the impression that Genie actually mourns the bastard who sired her?”

  It made sense, and yet it didn’t. No explanation was enough but Francis knew he only had to survive another hour of the evening before he could retreat to his room and back to a reality that didn’t make his head ache.

  The men started back to the sitting room and Francis was immediately grabbed by his aunt and taken to a wingback chair that was close to the center of the room. She sat beside him and grinned.

  “How was the meal, nephew?”

  “Splendid.” He actually had no idea how the food had been. He’d tasted nothing but rage whenever he found Morris looking at Genie. He knew it had all been part of the plan and even knew his displays of anger were also good for their scheme but Francis felt as though some joke was being told that he was not privy to.

  He searched the room and found Genie standing with Sophia. They were speaking in a low tone and Francis could only guess at their topic of choice. He adjusted himself in the seat to relieve some of the pressure from his groin.

  “You get the same expression your father wore when you worry.”

  He turned to his aunt and spoke before he thought. “Obviously, my father didn’t worry enough.” He shook his head and said, “Never mind. It’s wrong to speak ill of the dead.”

  “Francis.”

  He lifted his eyes and stared at his aunt, never once missing the fact that she looked so much like his mother that it hurt. Lorena looked like her as well but Matilda Shaw could have been Constance’s twin. He’d gotten his blue eyes from her side of the family but his dark hair— and obviously his grim expressions— came from his father.

  “I believe your father worried far too much,” Matilda told him.

  “Oh?” Francis asked, not really wishing for an explanation, though he supposed she was right. His father’s worries had led to their ruin.

  His ruin.

  At the moment, if things had been different, he’d be at Genie’s side as opposed to sitting across the room from her. He’d have been with her during her entire period of mourning, there to relieve her of pain and fill her thoughts with hope and love.

  His vision of Genie was cut off as Archie passed her on his way to speak to the vicar. Archie narrowed his eyes at Francis though offered a smile to the vicar. Either way, the warning was clear. He was looking at Genie much too often. He swore he’d cease from doing so and turned back to his aunt just as she spoke again.

  “I believe you worry too much as well.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” He lifted a brow and turned his eyes toward the clock, counting the minutes until it was appropriate for him to slip away.

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  He snapped his eyes back to her. “What do you mean? I hear you perfectly clear.”

  She leaned toward him. “Then let go and embrace life. It’s so short, Francis. It’ll slip from your hands before you know it.”

  He wondered if she were speaking of her own marriage or her the fact that she’d allowed Maura to live in an asylum for half her life.

  A flash of black caught his attention. Hands settled on either side of his face and he turned just in time to see Genie’s face.

  His heart lurched.

  Her lips descended and rested against his, soft and sweetly.

  His fists tightened on the chair arms and fought the urge to lean toward her, to press his mouth more firmly against her own, to slip his tongue between the lips that tasted of sherry and the woman he loved.

  She leaned away and met his eyes warily.

  The room was quiet and Francis recalled their audience. Fear turned the taste in his mouth to metal and his heart raced. He knew what she’d wanted. She’d wanted him to respond, to lose himself in the moment, to prove to every man in the room to whom she belonged.

  He forced himself to glare at her and said, “Are you done?”

  “Damn,” Calvin muttered.

  Genie’s eyes filled with tears, which slid down her face before she released him. Her pain was a mirror of his soul but her timing couldn’t have been worse.

  She fled the room with her friends following behind her.

  Lorena turned to glare at him before disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.

  “Well.” Archie’s smile could be heard in his voice. “That was quite unexpected.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Reverend Davis said. “It seems the lady compromised him and not the other way around. Are there rules for such a thing?”

  Matilda stood. “The girl is clearly suffering from grief. Do excuse her. As you know, she just lost her father.”

  “What she needs is a protector,” Archie cut in. “But obviously, not His Grace, since it is clear he has no inclinations where Lady Genevieve is concerned.”

  Francis could take no more of the conversation and left the room.

  “You aren’t going after her, are you?”

  He turned around to glare at Archie after he cleared the front door, not believing he’d had the audacity to follow him out of the house. “Of course not. You saw that I didn’t kiss her back. I understand my obligations.”

  Archie smiled. “Indeed, you do. Genie is more than distraught.” The glee in his expression was annoying. It was only when the man scrambled back that Francis realized he’d moved toward him, murder his intention.

  Francis’ stomach ached and his heart felt as though it were being stabbed repeatedly, a pinching sensation that would never cease. “What you do want?”

  “What?” Archie asked, his face still showing his hesitation.

  “What can I give you in exchange for her? I’ll continue to pay my debt but please, I beg you.”

  The Earl of Buckley straightened. “Her father’s letter to me was very specific of his wishes. He didn’t want you with her unless you miraculously managed to clear your debts before Genie found a suitable partner.” He smiled again. “Now, I’ll be generous and overlook this evening's display of feelings. You should be thankful for that.”

  Francis tightened his fist. “Why must you hold to the quarrels of a hateful man?

  Archie jutted his chin. “That hateful man was my uncle.”

  “You didn’t even know him!”

  Archie shrank back again and grabbed onto the folds of his jacket, as if for protection. “I can see that emotions are high. I will leave you now.” He turned back toward the front door, nearly at a run to escape Francis’ fury.

  He started toward the stables and grabbed his horse, through everything inside of him screamed to return to Genie, to explain everything to her, to fall to his knees and ask her forgiveness for every word that had been untrue.

  But in the end, what would that gain him? More trouble.

  He knew Lorena and her friends had been up to something and should have put a stop to it before this. Morris’ ambitions to end the Spinster’s Society had never made more sense than at that very moment.

  The sound of hurried footsteps caused him to turn around.

  Lorena stood there, vexed beyond measure. “Why didn’t you kiss her?” Her eyes flung heat but they were no match for his own anger.

  “Why must you always interfere?” His anger arose, his voice hitting a level he’d never used with her. Lorena and her friends had become another obstacle in securing Genie. It was only by chance that Buckley witnessed Genie’s pain long enough to realize all was still moving according to his plans. “You never think, do you? You simply must always do what you think is right for everyone.” He turned to his horse and got on its back.

  “Someone has to,” she countered. “Someone ha
s to ensure some amount of good in this horrible world.” Her eyes glittered but he knew she would not let her tears fall. “Our parents were good to us, Francis. They were good people and now they are gone. We have to look out for each other.”

  He glared down at her. “You’ve no idea what you’re doing.”

  “You’re right,” she told him. “But I refuse to do nothing, which is what you continue to do.”

  Francis looked away.

  She touched his knee and he turned back to her. “Admit it, Francis. You love her. I just want you to be happy.”

  “If you want Evie to be happy then leave us alone.” Francis kicked Prince and started him in a direction that led to the unknown. He allowed Prince to go wherever he saw fit, just as he’d done on many occasions before, whenever despair grew too great and unshakable sadness settled into his heart.

  Genie’s eyes after their kiss would haunt him for many nights to come. It had been their first and he wondered just how likely it was to be their last. He had no clue what to do, though Lorena’s words nagged at him. She claimed he’d done nothing but if only she knew of the many sacrifices he’d made. He’d never tell her, however, because while she hoped for his happiness, he in turn prayed fervently for hers, to go on and live a life better than any Cullip before her, to have all her needs met and to smile more than anything else.

  Prince’s steps slowed as they made it out on the open plane and Francis looked up to the sky, the stars unobscured by the millions of lamps that burned in the city, the glow of the heavens so abundant that it seemed overpowering and reminded him of just how small he was in the grand scheme of the world. He was Francis Cullip, the Duke of Valdeston, a renowned equestrian, and a man in love with the daughter of his enemy.

  And without her, he was empty.

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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  Genie woke to the sounds of whispering and slowly opened her eyes against the harsh light of morning. The room was full of the afternoon sun and she rose to find Lorena sitting at the edge of Sophia’s bed. They had their heads together, talking briskly, her name on their lips.

  It took a moment to remember that something was wrong but when it came, it hit her like a blow to the chest. Memories of the other night invaded her mind until she could see nothing else. She’d kissed Francis and he’d rejected her. Surely, it had all been a dream. The evening had started with so much promise. She recalled joking with Mr. Taylor and finding Sudworth’s embarrassment adorably sweet but then she recalled the unexplainable tension that had been in the room before the kiss and knew she’d made a horrible mistake.

  A mistake that hadn’t started that night but years before. She’d fallen for a man who’d never loved her.

  She noticed the silence in the room and found her friends’ worried eyes on her.

  Lorena rose and moved toward her, her blue eyes so much like her brother’s that Genie found it hard to breathe.

  “Genie.” Lorena touched her hand. “I’m so very sorry that—”

  “No.” Pain ripped through Genie’s gut. “Don’t say his name. Please, let us not speak of it.”

  Lorena shared a look with Sophia and nodded. “All right. His name is banned from the house. We won’t speak of it until you are ready.”

  Genie nodded though she didn’t see herself ever being ready to address the issue. She wanted to cry and vomit and then cry some more.

  It was over. Francis had rejected her in front of all his friends. There was little choice for her now. She had to get far away, though she would prefer to be anyone but herself at the moment.

  “He doesn’t want me,” Genie said aloud, speaking her fears into existence and letting them fall where they may. She was nearly knocked over by the power they held, a truth she could no longer deny. It was as heart-wrenching as it was embarrassing.

  Lorena squeezed her hand. “Genie, we don’t know that to be sure.”

  Genie looked at her. “Are you done?”

  Francis’ words had kept her from finding sleep through the night. Every moment she’d thought of settling down into the sheets the words would pry her eyes open and attack her heart with a vengeance.

  Are you done?

  Were there any words crueler than those? She didn’t think so. In fact, if he’d told her he hated her, she was sure that would have been better but instead, he’d spoken to her as though she were an annoying child. Was that all she’d ever been to him?

  Are you done?

  Sophia came and sat by her but said nothing, simply wrapped an arm around her waist.

  Genie felt tears building in her eyes, the new day bringing on new sorrows and new thoughts to torment her. “I never cared how much I embarrass myself because in my heart I thought…”

  Lorena’s tears fell and she knew exactly what Genie was going to say.

  Genie said the soul-shattering truth. “I thought he loved me.” She laughed as her own tears began to fall and breathing hurt. “I thought those to be words I’d never utter, and yet now I imagine I’ll be saying them for the rest of my life. Whenever we look back at the time I wasted, the decade I spent laying my heart at the feet of that man, we will recall that I always believed in my heart that he loved me… and he didn’t.” The sob broke then and Sophia and Lorena wrapped around her, shielding the light but not the pain, giving her warmth but unable to take the pain.

  Later, she felt the press of more bodies and knew Maura and Alice had joined the circle, her crying likely alerting them that she was awake.

  And Genie was more awake than ever before.

  She wondered if this was what death felt like because she was surely dead. The life she’d been living up to this point couldn’t be hers, the dramatic tragedy played out for her friends. Not even Victor Hugo could have written something this world ending.

  “What do you want me to do?” Lorena asked her. “I’ll do anything for you.”

  Genie lifted her head and stared at the only Cullip who loved her. A bitter thought that. She was undoubtedly going to be bitter for a long time to come, which was perfect with her being part of a Spinster’s Society. They didn’t have a bitter member yet. That could be her.

  Not even her own father had loved her. Genie should have known that no other man would. This wasn’t Francis’ fault at all. This was entirely her own. She was unlovable. She’d put all her love, hopes, and dreams into Francis and they were dead now.

  Lorena rubbed her arm. “What do you need?”

  “I don’t know,” Genie whispered, her voice hoarse. “Just time?”

  Lorena nodded. “Whatever you need.” Then she looked at the others. “His name is not to be mentioned in this house. Make sure that everyone, including the staff, is made known of this.”

  Genie liked it when Lorena took charge.

  Maura rose and did as she’d been instructed and the others assisted Genie in getting ready for the day and ushered her downstairs. The sight of Mr. Taylor sitting by Aunt Tilda in the drawing room made Genie was to flee. She paused at the door and kept her gaze from meeting his.

  Mr. Taylor rose and walked over to her. Her friends moved away as he took hold of her and pulled her into an embrace, the feel of his arms so different from the others, strong and hard. Genie clung to him as though he were a raft in the middle of a storm. He smelt of leather and heat.

  “I don’t think the dress worked,” Genie whispered some time later.

  He placed a hand on the back of her head and held her closer. His voice was deep and harsh. “Say the word and I’ll deliver him the facer he deserves.”

  She leaned away and gave him the first smile of the day. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Taylor touched her cheek. “Since I’ve managed to find myself in the country, I’ve decided to go to my family’s seat before heading to London. I will take you all wi
th me if you wish to get away from this.” Dovehaven, his brother’s estate, was hours east of Cort.

  Genie glanced at the others and saw it was obvious that Mr. Taylor had made his offer to the rest before speaking to her.

  “Whatever you want,” Lorena reminded her. “We could go to Dovehaven for a few days and then return.”

  Genie nodded and looked up at Mr. Taylor. “I would like that.” Already, she was breathing better.

  He touched her nose. “Done.”

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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  Francis jumped when the parlor door opened and narrowed his eyes in an effort to make out who was approaching. As the figure drew closer, he easily made out Calvin’s face but wondered when his friend had gotten so tall. He decided to ask. “When did you get to be so tall?”

  Calvin knelt down and grinned. “Francis, you’re sitting on the floor.”

  Francis felt around on the Persian carpet until his hand ran into glass and curved around

  the neck of the decanter. “I suppose you’re right.” Though he had little ambitions of getting up. He liked the floor and enjoyed Morris’ spirits. His body was nearly numb and though he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten himself to that place, he supposed it was a fine place to be.

  He brought the bottle up to his mouth but nothing came out.

  “It’s empty,” Calvin told him.

  Francis looked down in the direction of the glass. It was a moment later that he managed to

  make the image of the bottle out. “Right again,” he told Calvin.