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Chapter Twelve

I t had taken every bit of Geny’s self-mastery to remain at home instead of visiting the asylum the next day. She longed to see Mr. Rowles—John—to see if she had misinterpreted his leave-taking to mean he regretted the kiss they had shared. She could not have thought it possible, for there had been feeling in that kiss. But then he had been so formal when he bid her good day. Perhaps he was afraid of being found out, or afraid of her reaction, or…worried that others might have detected the closeness that had grown between them. Oh, if only she could know for sure!

She held fast to her dignity and decided she would not go. Perhaps John had not shown outward signs that he had been changed by the kiss, but she had been. Never in her life had she experienced such a sensation—the intimacy of two lips joining, the sweetness as he held her in his arms and cradled her face as though she were someone to be cherished. It was the first time since her mother died that she had received anything in the way of physical affection. It was certainly the first time she’d ever felt cherished by someone who asked nothing in return. She knew John was a good man. He was not pursuing her for personal gain; she could sense it. And yet, he had made it clear that he not only sought her company, but admired the woman she was.

“Excuse me, my lady.” The butler opened the door to the morning room where she was sitting. “Lord Caldwell has just arrived. He has returned from school.”

“What—Matthew?” She leapt to her feet and hurried to the door, running out into the hall where her brother stood with a grin. She hugged him, which he submitted to, even returning her embrace for a moment before pulling away.

“I am home. It’s a jolly good piece of luck, is it not?”

“Yes, but why are you?” She examined him. “You have grown taller by at least two inches since I last saw you. Does Father know you are here?”

“Yes, for he was the one who sent for me. There was a measles outbreak in the school, and he did not wish for me to catch it.” Matthew held out his hat for the butler to take.

“Did he bring you back himself then? Is he here?” She looked behind her brother but saw no one. How wonderful it would be for Father to have surprised her by returning early.

“He could not be spared. He sent Brantley to get me. He’s still in Windsor.”

“Oh.” Geny was conscious of a strong sense of disappointment. She had had the unreasonable hope that they might have a family dinner that evening. Her father had been concerned enough to have her brother brought home when he’d heard of the outbreak. That was good, but she would have been better satisfied had he come home, as well.

“Never mind then. So there was a measles outbreak, you say?” Suddenly the implications of the danger he had just escaped hit her.

“Yes. Five lads caught it, and before I knew it, Brantley appeared at my door. The headmaster must have contacted the families to bring us out of there before it spread. ”

“I only hope you are not sick,” she said, instinctively feeling his forehead, which was cool. He brushed it off, and she looked at him fondly for a moment. “Hungry?”

“Aren’t I just? I’m as hungry as a hawk!”

“Come on, then.” She led the way to the kitchen. Cook would be happy to dote on Matthew while he sat at the kitchen table as he had when he was still under the care of Nurse.

The day passed quickly as Geny looked over his trunk and pulled out the clothes needing to be repaired or washed. They then spent a very pleasurable evening playing chess and spillikins after dinner. Normally her evenings were so quiet, but she couldn’t keep her joy from bubbling over each time she heard him laugh. She had missed Matthew so.

“I am going to the orphanage tomorrow. Do come with me. You have not come for at least a year,” she coaxed before they went up to bed.

Matthew yawned and stretched his arms wide. “Perhaps. If I am awake.”

“Very well,” she said, knowing it did no good to insist.

At least he had not said no outright, which meant there was a chance he would come. He used to love the asylum and had come with her regularly, playing with the orphan children on their short breaks. Besides, she thought it would be good for him not to be idle for the entire time he was at home, and no one could guess how long that might be.

The next day Matthew woke earlier than expected and came willingly enough with her and Charity. He likely sensed his alternative would be boredom.

Geny’s thoughts had been given a reprieve from revolving around Mr. Rowles, but once they entered the courtyard, those feelings, accompanied by her fears about seeing him again, rose to the surface. They were difficult to put aside, which was inconvenient because she wished to introduce Matthew to him and hoped she could do so without appearing flustered in any way.

They entered the hall, and it was Mr. Dowling rather than Mr. Rowles who was the first person she met. He crossed the hall to greet her, stopping to bow.

“Good morning, my lady.” He turned to Matthew. “How do you do, my lord. Home from school, are you? I hope you were not sent down,” he added in a jovial tone.

“No.”

Her brother deemed it unnecessary to give a more elaborate response than the one word. With anyone else, Geny would have admonished him to be more civil in his greeting, but she could not blame him, for she knew he had also not warmed to Mr. Dowling.

Matthew turned to her. “I wish to visit the stable and carriage house.”

“Very well, you may go. Just stay away from the back wall in the stable, for the stones are coming loose, and I should not like for you to be injured.” He gave a nod and sprinted off.

She found herself alone in Mr. Dowling’s presence, a situation she was eager to remedy. She offered a polite smile and turned toward the stairwell.

“My lady, if I might breathe a word of warning in your ear.”

This unpromising beginning wormed its way under her skin, and she paused with her hand on the guardrail and looked at him, waiting.

“I believe Mr. Rowles deems himself to be nearly on par with you—or at least he does so to the degree that he suffers no qualms about encroaching upon your goodness. He informed me about the request he made to have orphans assist him in his labor.” He offered her a patronizing look that was clearly meant to be kind. “I have taken steps to ensure he will no longer do so and have instructed the steward to approach me on all matters in the future. ”

Geny breathed in through her nose. On the contrary, Mr. Dowling, it is not he who encroaches on my goodness, as you choose to call it.

The meaning of his words struck next, causing her to furrow her brows. He had claimed that Mr. Rowles wanted orphans to assist him and not that he had offered to train them. She decided not to bring this up and paused only for the brief moment it took for her to decide how she would respond.

“You are very good, Mr. Dowling. Please do not concern yourself with me. I can handle my own affairs, and Mr. Rowles has been nothing but civil. I do not mind being of assistance to him in this small way when it cost me nothing to do so.”

As she took a step, she saw out of the corner of her eye that he lifted a hand, and it caused her to tense. But he dropped it, and she was able to leave without being accosted.

She climbed the stairs and, as soon as she had removed her cloak and bonnet, went directly into Mr. Rowles’s office. Gabriel and Timothy were already there working on the accounting books Mr. Rowles had provided them. She greeted them, a smile in her eyes as she acknowledged John, who had come to his feet to bow. His Christian name came to mind as soon as she saw him, for how could she think of him formally after what they had shared?

The two orphans stopped their work to look up at her, Gabriel with a solemn gaze and Timothy with a speculative one. She praised them for what they had written, fully aware of John as he stood behind her. She had enough presence of mind to notice his handwriting on the boys’ ledgers. He was indeed training them. She shook her head at Mr. Dowling’s impudence, then drew a breath, turning just as John moved his gaze from her to the orphans.

He gestured for them to stand. “Boys, you may go outside for fifteen minutes to have some exercise. If anyone says anything to you, you will tell them I’ve given you permission. Your sums will be waiting for you to return, however.”

Geny was secretly thrilled that he had sent the boys away, for it revealed his wish to speak to her, which was precisely what she wanted. She called after the boys.

“My brother, Lord Caldwell, is in the stables if you wish to greet him. You remember Matthew?”

“Yes, my lady,” Gabriel answered for them both, and they ran off.

She turned to John, who closed the distance of a few steps between them with a smile that matched hers. “Your brother is here then?”

“Yes—unexpectedly so. There was unfortunately an outbreak of measles at Eton. My father thought it judicious for him to come home immediately rather than risk being contaminated. At least, I hope he will not grow ill.”

John’s brow creased with concern. “Indeed, I hope he will not…and that you will not.”

His gaze lingered on her face and there was warmth in his eyes. She could not help but smile more broadly, although she fought the urge to be so utterly transparent. It was just that she felt so happy in his presence.

Without warning, the light in his eyes faded and his expression grew somber. He lowered his voice. “My lady, I am afraid I took a great liberty the other day, one I?—”

She was already shaking her head before he had finished his sentence, and he stopped short when he saw it. She wished to tell him that he had not taken any liberties because she had welcomed his kiss. But how could she say such a thing?

When nothing more was forthcoming, he added, “I beg your forgiveness. It was unwise, and I will ensure that it does not happen again.”

Disappointment froze her speech, but she finally managed to nod. “Of course. Of course it will not. ”

She smiled again, a rigid one that felt every bit as painful as the look on his face. He did not seem to like this any more than she did, so why must he say it was a mistake? She took a deep breath and turned behind her to glance at the doorway, now hearing the sounds of Mr. Dowling in his office. Surely their quiet speech could not have carried?

“I should go and see how my brother is doing.” She wanted only to escape, but he stepped to her side, surprising her.

“I should very much like to meet your brother, if that is all right with you.”

She lifted wary eyes to his and assessed his expression. This was not a man who looked as though he wished to rid himself of her presence. The thought carried comfort, though it was small.

“I am sure he would be glad to meet you. If you will excuse me for a moment, I must retrieve something in the office.”

He murmured his assent, and Geny escaped from his office to collect herself before they walked outdoors together. She had not thought that he would be so eager to dismiss what they had shared. The fact that he had would take some adjusting to. Upon reflection, she was convinced that she was not the only one to have felt something. He must have been pulling back because of the difference in their station. It was noble of him, perhaps, but she did not ask for nobility in this instance. What she wanted was a simple love between two people with similar ideals—a man and a woman who shared the same beliefs about what was important without a concern for where they stood in society. A tear had escaped, and she wiped it hastily as she grabbed her cloak.

Whirling around, she came face-to-face with Mr. Dowling.

“My lady, are you well? You seem overwrought.”

Was she to have no peace? Geny could not answer right away. He had infringed on her private moment, even before she could wipe away signs of her distress. It took every ounce of her good breeding to respond civilly.

“I am fine, I assure you.” She buttoned her cloak back in place. “I am to show my brother the changes we have made since he was last here.”

An eager light came into Mr. Dowling’s eye. “I shall gladly accompany you, then. After all, if I may speak immodestly for a moment, I have been at the root of many of these changes. Why is Lord Caldwell home from school?”

Now, it required more than civility; it needed all of Geny’s ingenuity to politely decline Mr. Dowling’s offer.

“There has been a measles outbreak in his school, and my father thought it better to bring him home rather than allow him to suffer the risk of becoming contaminated.”

“I should say so.” A look of alarm had come over his features. “And if he should already be contaminated? Why, my lady, you might be at risk. And those of us who work at the asylum might be at risk.”

“And the orphans too,” she added pointedly. She knew he did not value the lives of the orphans as much as he did of those more happily circumstanced. “However, I do not believe there is any danger of that. He had already been quarantined in school, and we think enough days have passed that he would have manifested symptoms.”

Mr. Dowling had inched back. It was hardly enough for her to notice, but she had. He cleared his throat. “I have forgotten that I have an urgent correspondence I must attend to?—”

“Lady Eugenia, if you are quite ready, then so am I,” John’s voice came from the doorway. When Mr. Dowling turned, John bowed politely—in appearance every inch the gentleman. Mr. Dowling did not return it and only frowned.

“I am. Shall we?” Geny walked past Mr. Dowling toward the stairs with John trailing behind her .

They exited into the courtyard, which was empty, and walked toward the stable. Geny’s mood had sobered further. This was different from the last time they had walked these steps, for that stroll had held promise. This time, he had nipped in the bud any possibilities for a courtship before it could bloom. There was something so depressing about that finality—and something so frustrating because she could do nothing to convince him otherwise. She dared not attempt it and so lose all dignity.

“I fear I upset you earlier.” John’s voice carried quietly to her ears.

She stopped in the middle of the courtyard, knowing that this was not a conversation for anyone else’s ears, nor would she like for their exchange to be noticed by others. But she had to respond.

“I am upset, but it is not at the liberties you claim to have taken. It is rather at having learned that you regret it.”

He looked stunned at her admission “I…I do not regret it—at least I cannot say I do. I regret only having done such a thing when I cannot see it through.”

She looked at him steadily. “Can you not?”

She held her breath, waiting for his answer. She could not lay her heart bare before him any more explicitly than that.

“We are of such different worlds,” he began. “Such different stations?—”

“And if that does not bother me, why should it bother you?” Geny was dancing dangerously close to proposing to the man herself. She knew it, but she did not want to lose potential happiness based on a misplaced sense of honor.

“It is more complicated than that,” he said.

She drew back. These words struck her even more harshly than the ones he had uttered in his office, for his reticence was clear. She had openly given him her heart, and he still did not want her. Blinking, she glanced away, and a movement in the upstairs window caught her eye. Mr. Dowling was watching them from the office she shared with Mrs. Hastings.

It was not for nothing that she had been strictly trained to move in society, for she could hide all vestige of pain at will. She lifted her chin.

“I see.”

“Geny,” he said softly as she turned away.

She resumed her walk to the stable with measured steps, carrying what shreds of dignity she had left.

Matthew came running out of the stable just as she neared the entrance. “Some stones from the wall have fallen—there is now a hole!”

“I warned you that it was in danger of falling. I hope you did not go back there.” Despite seeing that Matthew was unscathed, Geny had a sense of foreboding and hurried into the stable as John reached her side.

“No, not very close. I just wanted to look at it. But when I pointed it out to Gabriel and Timothy, Gabriel took a pole and poked at the loose stones before I could stop him.”

Geny drew in a sharp intake of breath and hurried past the stalls of horses toward the orphans. John ran ahead to where Gabriel and Timothy stood looking up and pointing. The long pole was still in Gabriel’s hand. Then there was a rumbling sound.

“Gabriel! Tim—!” John’s words were cut off by the sound of the entire wall crashing down on top of the boys.