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

by Charlotte Stone

  He touched her cheek.

  Lorena leaned against him and he placed his hand on her shoulder, holding her close. “I don’t want you to think this entire scene has simply been a ploy to get you to marry Genie. If you truly didn’t love her, I’d never have started down this road to begin with. If you truly felt any distaste for her, I’d leave you be. But I know you love her, Francis. It’s in the way you look at her, the way your voice softens when you address her.” She smiled softly right before confusion clouded her eyes. “I don’t understand why you didn’t kiss her back? Was it Morris?”

  Francis rolled his eyes. “Give it time, Lorena. I’m sure all will be well very soon.”

  She stared at him. “I just want you to be happy, Francis. You deserve it. You’re a very good older brother. You managed to keep me fed even while I refused to give up the house and simply move in with you. I know the burdens you’ve carried. I only wish you understood that you could share them with me.”

  She sounded like the Men of Nashwood, ever pushing him to seek their aid. “I know you wish to help, Lorena.” That was the real issue, after all. He didn’t want his sister’s involvement. “You simply worry about your happiness. That would be the best way you could help me. Be happy, Lorena. It’s all our parents wanted for us.”

  She nodded and sighed. “I suppose I’ll simply keep trying to reach out to Genie. Our friendship is stronger than this.”

  He nodded.

  She rested her head back down and they remained silent for a little while, both reliving events of the past that had brought them to where they were at that very moment.

  With all his father’s many faults, one thing the old Duke of Valdeston had given them was each other and Francis supposed he should be very grateful for that. Love had never been sparse in his house, maids perhaps, but never the abundant amount of tenderness. He recalled the pained expression in his father’s eye when he had asked Francis to take his debt. It had hurt more than his pride. It had been the death of dreams for the man. Francis would not let despair have victory over their situation.

  A knock sounded on the door and Francis looked over to see Emmett walk slowly into the room, his gray eyes assessing.

  Lorena rose and a light touched her eyes as she met Emmett’s gaze. Without a word, she rose. Her eyes moved to Francis. “We shall speak later.”

  “Of course.” He smiled at her.

  Emmett held out his hand and Lorena took it. He looked over at Francis and they shared a nod before Emmett showed Lorena from the room.

  Francis turned back to the center of the music room. The room was done in cream and gold with crown molding that had been crafted just for the room, giving it a Grecian ambiance.

  A hand settled on his and he knew who it belonged to before she spoke.

  “Did you tell her?” Genie asked.

  He touched her hand and shook his head.

  She came around and sat in the chair next to him, her gaze pensive. “It’s getting very hard to lie to her. How do you do it?”

  He stared at her and though he wished to touch her, he refused. Lorena could return at any time and he didn’t wish their secret getting out. “Avoid her,” he said honestly.

  Genie smiled. “That’s impossible for me since I wish to be around her every day.”

  Every day. That wouldn’t be an option for them if Buckley forced their hand. They’d have to flee the country.

  “How did you keep the secret of your feelings for me for years?” Genie asked. “You didn’t avoid me.”

  “I tried,” he admitted. “But if I recall, it was you who always found a way to be around.”

  Her cheeks pinked. “Oh, that is true.”

  He glanced at the closed door and moved closer. His lips took hers in a rush and then he pulled away. The connection had been quick but already his body was responding to her nearness. Genie had become his well of life and him a bottomless pit of thirst. “I’m so very glad you didn’t give up.”

  She smiled. “In your own way, you gave me reason to continue.”

  “Then perhaps that is it,” he told her. “Give Lorena reason to never give up. Show her the depth of your friendship. Some gesture of love. Then she will know that everything will be all right.”

  Genie’s eyes shone. “Oh, Francis, you’re a genius.”

  He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had ever called him or any Valdeston such a thing but he accepted the kiss that Genie gave him and the rest of her lush body as she pressed into him but she broke it and skipped to the door before Francis could insist on having her right there on the floor.

  With a final smile, she left.

  Francis went to his room and saw a note had been left on his table. Since it was missing a name, he assumed the note had come from Genie but upon examining the words that laid inside, he saw it to be a summons from Buckley. He wondered what the man wanted and decided he’d see him the next day.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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  Genie arrived at the Buckley estate with minutes to spare for her appointment. She’d made sure to dress in her strictest mourning dress so that Buckley would find no fault in her attire and allowed the butler to show her into the foyer and toward the drawing room. The staff had been changed since her father’s death, which saddened her, but the house remained practically the same.

  The drawing room looked as though it had gone untouched since the last time she’d spent any significant amount of time there. She’d visited once last winter during Lorena’s mourning but most of her time had been spent in London where her father had easy access to doctors. They’d not lived at the estate for years, however. Genie’s grandmother had died two years prior and since the dowager had cared for Genie just as much as her father had, she’d not visited her much.

  She’d never understood the hate between her father and his mother, but she’d known it, in turn, had affected the way he’d related not only with Genie, but Genie’s mother. Her father had been disappointed when she’d been born a girl, which was usually the case for aristocratic men who wished to continue their line, but Genie had known it to be more than just a matter of wanting his heir. It was women that he hated, her entire sex completely. She’d seen it in his eyes whenever a woman, whether she be maid or lady, came near him. The servants had all known to stay clear of him. Only Genie had refused to leave him, seeing to his care no matter how bitter he grew.

  She’d barely taken her seat when Archie walked into the room. The earl was alone, which surprised her and she curtsied.

  He bowed and gave her one of his frequent and empty smiles before he bowed. “Lady Genevieve, I’m so glad you could come.”

  “Of course, my lord. It isn’t as though I’ve much to do anyway while being in mourning.” She retook her seat.

  The earl’s grin grew. “Oh, I’m sure you could think of something to do if you set your mind to it.”

  Genie had no idea what he was about but ignored his comment altogether. “What was it that you wished to discuss?”

  He remained by the door and folded his hands behind his back. “You arrived early, my dear. If you could be so kind as to wait a few more minutes, we will get started.”

  “Very well.” She settled into the chair and let her eyes roam over the art pieces in the room, anything but look at the earl again, though every time she did, she noticed he was still smiling and something in his eyes gave her caution.

  “Lord Buckley, why am I here?”

  Her cousin shook his head. “Oh, my dear, you’re not a very patient woman, are you?”

  Her heart jumped.

  She heard more footsteps down the hall and froze at seeing Francis.

  Francis’ eyes moved from her to Buckley and she watched his expression become just as blank at it had been the night she’d kissed him in Aun
t Tilda’s drawing room.

  Archie was the only one to perform for now.

  Fear kept her lungs partly constricted and forced her words higher. “What’s going on?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Archie said.

  “Why don’t you simply tell us what you know and be done with it.” Francis’ words were spoken plainly.

  “You’re having an affair,” Archie said just as plainly.

  Genie stood on shaky legs.

  “How do you know this?” Francis crossed his arms.

  “I had a man follow you to and from London. He saw your arrival at Mrs. Shaw’s home yesterday morning and took note of what he saw happen in the garden; then he reported to me. So, now you know what I must do.”

  Francis closed his eyes and drew his brows together.

  “I don’t understand,” Genie said. “What must you do?”

  Archie turned to her and grinned. “Take everything. You no longer have an allowance, my dear, and Francis no longer has a home. I’ll also be taking Lady Lorena’s.”

  “What?” Genie gasped. “Why? Because I wouldn’t marry Mr. Cross?”

  “No,” the earl continued malevolently. “Because it was your father’s wish that you two never be together. Francis took out a very large loan from your father five years ago and vowed to never go near you until the day that loan was settled. His family’s stability depended on it.”

  It was starting to make sense but Genie had never hated her father more than she did at that very moment. “How much of the loan is left?”

  “Seventy-five thousand pounds.”

  Genie nearly fell back into her chair.

  Archie went on. “A great sum of it has been paid off with the earnings from the club but he still has years to go before he could ask for your hand, much less touch you, and according to my servant, he did more than touch you yesterday.” Archie frowned at that with distaste.

  Francis walked over to the window and began to stare out, the beautiful day in drastic contrast to his animosity.

  “And so, you get everything,” Genie whispered as she turned back to Archie, her heart shattering at the depths of her father’s hate. Whatever had she done to him to deserve his spite?

  “Think of it this way,” Archie told her. “Now you can have each other.”

  “And you’ll have all the money,” she went on. “And Lorena’s house.” Had that been the reason Francis had not wanted his sister involved? It seemed pushing them together had only made everything worse but with the amount that Francis owed, Genie pictured decades before they could be together. She hadn’t even known her father had that much money to loan.

  “Not Lorena’s house or the Valdeston mansion in London.” Francis turned to look at Archie.

  Archie frowned. “I beg your pardon? The contract states that I take everything and continue to take every shilling you earn until the debt is paid.”

  Genie was amazed. “However would Francis live if you took everything that came his way?”

  “Not my issue.” Archie looked at Francis. “You can’t keep the homes.”

  “I don’t intend to,” Francis stated with a grim look. “I sold them this very morning before my arrival. I’ve the papers to prove so.”

  “What?” Archie looked outraged. “To who?”

  “His Grace, the Duke of Cort, will take over the club. I sold Lorena’s house to Lord Ashwick. So, if you truly want them, you’ll have to go after the duke and the earl.”

  Genie would have cheered at the news had Francis not looked so grim.

  Archie’s fist tightened. “I can still ruin you. I’ll take everything else, any income you gain will be mine. I’ll also be taking that horse you value so.”

  Genie watched as Francis’ face fell. He’d not thought to sell Prince.

  Archie grinned. “I might turn him to glue.”

  “No,” Genie whispered. The horse was all he had and riding Prince had been the only pleasure he’d given himself for years. She knew this to be so, yet only now understood that it was her father that he’d owed such a heavy debt to.

  Francis ran a hand through his hair.

  “Is the beast here now?” Archie asked. “I could have it shot immediately.”

  “Stop this!” Genie shouted.

  “I want that mansion!” Archie screamed back. He turned to Francis. “You get me those homes and I’ll allow you to keep the damned horse but I want both those houses.”

  Francis looked conflicted.

  Genie felt helpless.

  “Not Lorena’s house,” Francis finally said. “You can have the club but not my sister’s house.”

  Genie shook her head.

  Archie seemed to think about this and his eyes settled on Genie. “And Genevieve must marry a man of my choosing.”

  Genie fell back into her chair and dizziness settled in her head.

  “No.” Francis started toward him. “You’ll get the most coveted house in London. Let me keep her.”

  “No.” Archie shook his head. “I need Genevieve to solidify myself amongst the ton. A marriage between two houses would serve me well.”

  “No,” Francis said again, this time with more force. “I’ll shoot the damned horse myself. I’ll not give her up.” He turned to her. “Come, Evie. We’re leaving.”

  “The horse and your house,” Buckley reminded him. “The moment the club is back in my possession, I burn it and everything inside it. Furniture, clothes, portraits. I’ll burn your mother’s paintings.”

  Francis’ features crumbled but he didn’t look at Archie, he simply kept his eyes with her. “Come on, Evie. Let’s go.”

  Genie felt tears begin to slide down her face. “Go where?” she croaked.

  He walked over to her, knelt before her, and took her arms. “We’ll have to leave the country,” he said in a low voice. It meant he’d be running from his debt. Society would frown upon it. He’d lose his position as duke.

  Genie frowned as she understood what he was suggesting. “That means we’ll never be able to return.”

  “I know.” He kissed her hands. “But I don’t care. I choose you.”

  She searched his eyes and the reality of their situation hit her. He’d lost his parents and he was willing to give up his sister, his home, his horse, everything for her and he’d already given up so much for his family. Could she ask this of him? Could she ask this of Lorena, who’d live with so little and finally managed to gain her independence?

  Genie shook her head.

  Francis tightened his hold on her hands. “Evie, get up.”

  She ignored him and turned to Archie. “How much is my dowry?”

  “No.” Francis yanked at her hands to gain her attention. “You’re not doing this.”

  “Thirty thousand,” Archie said.

  “Evie,” Francis warned.

  “I’ll marry Mr. Cross,” Genie whispered.

  Archie smiled. “Excellent.”

  Francis rose. “You’re not doing this.”

  She continued to speak to Archie. “But you must not act on the contract,” she told her cousin. “Everything will be as it was before and I’ll ensure that you keep the thirty thousand.”

  Archie’s reply was immediate. “Only if you never speak to Francis again. After your display from the other night, you must convince Mr. Cross you’re in love with him, which will mean avoiding Francis.”

  “Done,” she agreed.

  Francis took her hand and she snatched it away.

  “Evie,” Francis called.

  Genie stood. “It’s too late. This is what is to happen.” She turned to Archie. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to gather my things from Mrs. Shaw’s. I’ll be moving into the dowager house.”

  “A fine idea,” Archie told her.

  Genie avoided looking at Francis as she left and continued to ignore him as she stood outside waiting for her carriage.

  “Evie, I love you. Do not marry Mr. Cross. I will find a way that we can be togeth
er.”

  She said nothing though it hurt.

  He moved to stand in front of her and she saw the pleading in his blue eyes. “I’ll not survive it if you marry him, Evie.” He reached out for her arms and she took a step out of his reach. She wrapped her arms about herself.

  The carriage came and he blocked the door.

  “You’re not marrying him,” he told her.

  She said nothing, simply stared at him and, eventually, she skirted around him and took a seat in the carriage. The moment the carriage door closed, she spoke loud enough that she was sure even Archie could hear her from his position at the time of the stairs. “Goodbye, Francis.” Then she turned away and the carriage lurched into motion.

  She pressed her back against the cushion and struggled to breathe and the moment her lungs filled with air, a sob ripped from her and burned with every inhalation. She would never forget the pain in Francis’ eyes or the one in her soul.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY

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  Francis burst through the doors of Morris’ house, walked directly into the parlor, barely noticing the other man who sat beside Morris. “We need to speak.” Then his eyes moved to the other man and Francis bowed low. “Your Grace.”

  The Duke of Lavenberg chuckled. “Couldn’t get you to bow that low at Eton. It’s quite all right, Lord Valdeston. Lord Cort was just telling me of your issue.”

  Francis rose and stared at Prince Garrett, grandson of George III and the current Duke of Lavenberg. He’d also been a pain in Francis’ arse at Eton and he’d been more than glad when the prince had decided to attend Cambridge as opposed to Oxford.