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

by Charlotte Stone

  “You should tell her.”

  “Who?” Francis asked.

  “Genie.”

  Genie.

  His Evie.

  Numbness was replaced by agony that twisted and tormented his gut. He leaned forward on his hands and knees and fought for air. Her green eyes danced before him, she smiled in his mind’s eye, her red hair curled around her face. She was heaven to look upon.

  His body shook with a grief he felt to his bones. “I can’t do this.”

  “What can’t you do?”

  He looked up at Calvin, the effects of the alcohol burned under the fire of his misery. “Life. I can’t live without her.”

  “Then don’t.” Calvin took a seat on the floor. “Do you recall the affection I held for Alice? Her father forbade me of having her but eventually, I stood up for what I wanted.” It was true. Alice’s father had promised her to another man and Calvin had pined for her for years. It was only a few months ago that Calvin had finally taken action.

  “But no one else was hurt.” Francis shook his head. “If I do this, I risk hurting Lorena. I risk ruining Evie’s life. Say I marry her and we lose everything. She’d detest leaving England just as much as staying and being poor.”

  Their conversation was cut short when Morris and the other men rushed in.

  Morris cursed. “Get him up and out of here quickly.”

  “There’s no time,” someone said.

  Francis felt his body being lifted from the floor.

  “We’ll say he’s ill,” Will suggested.

  “She’ll never fall for that.”

  She?

  Had Genie come for him?

  “Evie.” Francis fell into the comfort of a wingback chair and sighed. The floor had been lovely but the chair was more forgiving. “No,” he whispered. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. He’d hurt Genie. He deserved the floor. If Genie had come for him, he’d beg her to take him back. He started to fall out of the chair but a hand on his should pulled him back just as footsteps sounded loudly in the hall.

  The woman who appeared at the door froze all the blood in Francis’ vein and made him more alert than before.

  All the men bowed.

  Francis tried to stand but when his legs failed to work, he simply bowed his head. He started to fall from the chair again but hands on each of his shoulders pulled him back.

  “Mother.” Morris took her hand and kissed it. “We weren’t expecting your visit.”

  “I know,” the duchess said. “Which is why I came.” She smiled and turned her gold eyes toward the rest of the room. Lillias Kidd was a work of art. Beautiful but dangerous, which made the nickname the ton had given her, the Grand Lynx, fit so well. Her eyes were tilted at the ends, just like the predator cat she’d been named after and her hair was a warm and dark gold color.

  She walked slowly into the room and looked at every man present. A gloved finger touched her pale lower lip as though she were inspecting her dinner, and maybe she was, since she made it no secret that she’d slept with half the men of the ton and every man begged her to never leave their bed. Her techniques were said to be as exotic as her face. When a lord disappeared for longer than a month, it was sometimes assumed that he’d been eaten by the Grand Lynx.

  Francis pressed himself further into the chair and prayed her eyes didn’t land on him.

  He heard some of the men in the room sigh in relief when her eyes stopped on Julius.

  She smiled. “Hello, Julius.” His name was a caress.

  Francis watched his friend’s face heat with embarrassment. Julius had disappeared two years ago for the entire month of May. It had taken all Hugh’s efforts to find him. She’d been smart to keep Julius in a hotel where it would be hard to find him, but then Hugh had disappeared as well. In the end, rescue had been required for both men, which had taken another week. Neither Julius nor Hugh talked about that time in the duchess’ bed, but it took them a few weeks to break from whatever hold she’d had on them.

  Julius’ eyes widened. “Duchess Cort.”

  She moved closer. “You come to Cort and don’t visit me?”

  “I’ve been busy, Your Grace.” He sounded like a man lost in a dream.

  Their eyes held, hers demanding he yield.

  Julius licked his lips like a man dying of thirst. “I could possibly—”

  “No, Mother.” Morris stepped in front of Julius. “Every man here is busy. We’re not here for pleasure.” Her pleasure, he left out.

  Julius blinked as if coming out of a daze.

  Morris tried steering her toward the door. “We’re here to work. I told you this when I visited.”

  She waved him off and moved to take the chair next to Francis. “You’re just like your father.”

  “And you’re like no mother I know.”

  She smiled. “Oh, good.” She moved in a way that made it appear she was only seeking to make herself more comfortable but, in reality, drew attention to her well-endowed breasts. The hue of the lilac gown made her eyes stand out even more. She smiled like a cat who’d just found a mouse to play with as she glanced around at all the men as if each were a different course.

  “Hugh,” she called.

  Hugh had been gazing out the window since the duchess came in and kept his eyes on the floor as he turned to speak to her. “Your Grace.”

  Her eyes became innocent. “I believe I still have your handkerchief. You should at least come by and take what’s yours.” The suggestion was not missed by anyone.

  Hugh visible swallowed.

  “Mother, stop this.”

  She ignored him and continued to speak to Hugh. “Do you remember how we used it? I promise to be gentler this time.”

  Hugh turned back toward the window and looked as though he were contemplating jumping out of it.

  Morris shook his head at his mother. “You’re incredible.”

  The duchess turned to her son. “I know, darling. I get that all the time.” She batted her eyes. “And I also know that while you claim this visit to be about training, you all went to a dinner party two nights ago.”

  Had it truly been two nights since the dinner party? Francis had lost track of time. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d simply stopped caring about time altogether. What was time anymore? He usually counted by the amount of money he still had to pay in order to have Genie’s hand. Now there was nothing but years of loneliness to look toward.

  A soft hand settled on his.

  “Are you all right, Francis?”

  Francis slowly lifted his eyes to look at the duchess.

  Her gaze became tender. “If there is anything you ever need, all you need do is ask.”

  Francis believed her. She leaned forward and her breasts all but spilled out. He could rest his head there. Forget his troubles. He’d bet any amount of money she was soft all over. Would she be gentle?

  Morris scoffed and it was like a slap in Francis’ face, jarring him from his thoughts and shaming them. “Please, don’t prey on him, Mother.”

  The duchess frowned at Morris and took her hand away from Francis. “I’m not preying on him. I was simply being nice. I adored Constance. His mother was one of my dearest friends.” Lillias stood. “Anyway, I simply came over to say that I’m planning a dinner party here in two weeks. The ladies will arrive and I’ll play hostess for them and you’ll, of course, have to accommodate us all in one of the guest wings.”

  Morris looked livid. “Mother, I told you—”

  “You went to dinner last night and I was not invited. So you will host this party or I shall never forgive you.” Her eyes became just as furious as she stared at him.

  Morris held his mother’s eyes longer than Francis had seen any man ever do.

  But, like all men, he looked away and cursed. “All right, you may have your weekend party but no more after that.”

  His mother smiled and turned to the other men. “See you all in two weeks.” Then she left, the scent of jasmine lingerin
g in the air.

  “Damn.” Calvin shook his head. “I need to go visit Alice.”

  Emmett was pacing the back of the room. “I was thinking the same about Lorena but you know they’re not here.”

  “They’re gone?” Francis asked, his heart racing. He stood, using the chair as leverage. “Did Evie leave?”

  Emmett frowned and nodded. “They’re gone to Dovehaven and then back to London.”

  Francis’ eyes stung and he started for the door. “I need…” He didn’t finish and no one required that he do so. They all let him go, let him flee the room though he couldn’t flee fate.

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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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  Genie heard the laughter around her but couldn’t seem to join in. She sat in the back of the Dovehaven drawing room and listened as the Viscount of Dovehaven and his brother went back and forth, telling a story from their childhood that entertained everyone in the room from guest to servant. The twins were both handsome, amusing, and seemed to play off the other in a way that only two who’d been joined in the womb could.

  Mr. Taylor crossed one of his knees over the other and leaned back in his beige monopodium chair, crossed his fingers and glanced around the room. “I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve stepped foot into this house.”

  The Dovehaven estate was quite beautiful and peaceful. The décor and colors were so subdued that Genie wondered where the tailor had gotten his flair for excess when it came to fashion. Even now his red waistcoat was the only vibrant thing in the room, his style the only thing that set him apart from his twin, the viscount. Even their crude sensual personalities were alike but Genie had seen the viscount tone his colorful character down in front of guests, which Mr. Taylor never cared to do, making Genie believe they’d been born in the right order.

  Sophia was sitting on the couch with Lorena and Maura. “I can’t believe you never brought me here, Father.”

  Mr. Taylor shrugged. “For years, I believed I was running from this world.” His green eyes shined. “But perhaps I’ve no need to run anymore.”

  “Not in the least,” his brother said. Then he brightened. “We should host a Christmas party this year. You’re my only family, as you know.” He and his wife had never managed to have children of their own.

  Mr. Taylor looked nervous at the thought but Lorena spoke before he could. “A splendid idea. The Spinster’s Society could plan everything for you.” And Lorena was very good at playing hostess. She’d learned well from her mother.

  Lorena turned to Sophia. “You’ll play hostess, of course, since this is your family home.”

  Sophia blushed. “But I’ve never been here before and I’m not a lady.”

  “No matter,” her uncle said. “You’re my niece. You’ll do well.”

  Mr. Taylor looked at Sudworth, who was standing by the door. “Do you have any family, Zed? Perhaps they would like to join you for the holiday.”

  Everyone looked at Lorena’s butler, whose expression had quickly fell from humored to bland. “There is only me, I’m afraid.”

  “Not true,” Lorena told him. “We’re your family.”

  Sudworth smiled. “Of course, my lady.”

  Lorena smiled at him and turned to Mr. Taylor. “Now, leave him alone and let us begin making the guest list. As you know, Christmas is only three months away.”

  Three months to Christmas and Genie was sure she’d not be in happy spirits by the time it came around. It would almost be to the day that her mourning period would come to an end, though in reality she’d never begun to mourn until Francis broke her heart. His name had yet to be spoken amongst the group and she was glad for it. She was still unready to deal with the pain or find a new path for her life.

  She touched the black beads around her throat and missed her mother’s locket. She should have gotten it back from Francis before he’d left Cort. Why had he worn it if he didn’t love her? What obsession did he hold if not love? Could it be that he’d simply been fond of her attentions? She’d never thought Francis the sort of man to lead a woman on but, then again, she hadn’t known him at all.

  She turned and looked toward the window where Alice stood, gazing out at the day. Fog was heavy here and the day looked almost white except for the red and gold of the trees.

  Genie rose and went to stand by her. “Thinking about Calvin?” she whispered.

  Alice’s blushed and turned her blue gaze to her. “Actually, I was thinking about… him.” Francis.

  Genie lifted a brow and her heart beat rushed. “Oh?”

  Alice nodded and turned back to look out the window. “My father runs a club and I grew up watching the men interact with one another. And I suppose I’ve grown to read people very well at the card tables and something about that night doesn’t seem right to me.” She shook her head. “But I know you’d rather not speak of it, so I’ve kept my silence on the matter.”

  She moved closer. “No, tell me.”

  Alice narrowed her eyes but was obviously seeing something that wasn’t in front of her. “I watched his reaction to you during the kiss. His first reaction was surprise; his brows rose, his eyes widened.”

  That didn’t surprise Genie at all. “Of course, he was surprised. He didn’t know what I’d planned to do.”

  Alice nodded. “But it was his next reaction that’s been puzzling me.”

  Genie stared at her. “What did you see?”

  Alice held her eyes. “Pain.”

  Genie leaned away as the words wounded her. “Pain? I didn’t mean to cause him pain.”

  Alice shook his head. “No, I don’t believe it was you. It looked like agony.”

  “That doesn’t sound any better.” Genie sighed. “If he detested the kiss so much, all he had to do was push me away.”

  “Yes, but instead, he grabbed the chair arms.” Alice took her hand and held it tight. “His grip on the chair was so firm that it turned his knuckles white.”

  Genie blinked and imagined that night while Alice’s hand held hers. “What if he was simply trying to endure? What if he was fighting the want to push me away?”

  Alice leaned closer. “Or what if he was fighting something else entirely? What if he was fighting the desire to touch you? What if the pain was the pain of not being able to? The agony of not being able to join in the kiss.”

  Genie laughed, thinking Alice’s imagination getting the best of her. “But I was right there. Why wouldn’t he kiss me if he wished it, knowing all the while that I would have gladly accepted him?” Alice’s logic didn’t make any sense to her and Genie wasn’t sure if she wished it to. “Francis has known of my love for years. There’s no reason for him to refuse me.”

  “Unless he refused you that night for the same reasons he’s been refusing you for years.”

  Genie frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Alice shrugged. “Don’t you recall what took place between Calvin and me? He loved me but my father refused to let him have me. What if it’s the same for you?”

  Genie shook her head. “My father’s dead, Alice.”

  Alice frowned. “I know but, still, I believe there was more going on that night.” She smiled. “Genie, look at you. You’re gorgeous and wonderful. It would never pain a man to kiss you, so it only makes sense to me that it was something else.”

  Genie touched her arm and gave her a small smile. “Perhaps.” But she doubted it. How easily it had become to doubt him, to doubt love, to never want it again.

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  CHAPTER NINETEEN

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  Francis was mildly drunk but grinned when he managed to catch his wine glass before it spilled over the table
.

  Frank leaned over and whispered, “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” His gold eyes showed his distaste.

  Francis smiled. “I do because I am.”

  “Well, you’ll be happy to know that you’re drinking grape juice. I cut liquor from your diet an hour ago.” Frank returned to his plate of fish.

  Francis looked down at his cup and realized his cleverness had come at the hand of sobriety. He put down his glass with more force than he planned to and turned to whisper harshly at his overbearing friend, “You had no right.”

  “Maybe not,” Frank replied and began to smile at a lady across from him. “But you’ll be glad to know that no servant in this house will pour you another glass of spirits. I allowed you to wallow in self-pity for an entire week but no more. It’s time we sort this out.”

  Francis closed his eyes, not caring to be told what to do, especially on a night such as this. The Duchess of Cort’s dinner party had begun an hour ago and everything about it had brought back memories of the worst night of his life. Four ladies and their respective chaperones had been invited to dinner, and Francis’ luck had proven non-existent when he’d found himself paired to Miss Judith, the wealthy daughter of a baron who was looking to move up in the ton and had her eyes set on a dukedom. She was probably the only woman present who didn’t care about his horrible lack of funds since she had plenty of her own and a father who used every penny to see to her satisfaction.

  Her laughter pierced through his mind like a knife and he pressed closer to Frank. “Couldn’t we sort this out another day? See here, I promise to let you practice your head doctoring on me in the morning if you allow me my fair share of wine tonight.”

  “You’ve had more than your share as it is and you’ve had the entire week to sort it out. Still, you and I will be speaking tomorrow. Now, no more whispering. Don’t be rude. Give Lady Judith your attention and be kind.”