a good choice for young boys. I should have known you would find the right place for our Jemmy.” A bump in the road threw her against Grant. She straightened but left her shoulder touching his. For balance, she told herself.
“Here we are.” Grant pulled up in front of Hookham’s Lending Library. He jumped from the phaeton and lifted Genie neatly to the ground, his hands almost encircling her small waist. He lingered a moment longer than he should have, his eyes meeting hers, his hands on her waist. Genie forgot to breathe, looking into his silver-blue eyes and unshaven face.
“Thank you again,” murmured Genie, heat crawling across her face and down into unmentionable regions.
“I am always at your service.” Grant walked her to the door and left her with a bow.
Grant returned slowly to the phaeton, watching Genie through the window of Hookham’s. She looked around for a moment, then threw open her arms wide to give a long embrace to a handsome young man.
Twenty-one
“I think these are all good candidates,” said the dowager over tea that afternoon. She examined sorted cards Penelope had created with the names, positions, and significant information for the potential bachelors they wished to put into the running for Genie’s hand.
“I agree. These five would be good potentials. I should think Mr. Blakely is the frontrunner. They had a nice visit together over that guidebook. I believe they could become good friends,” replied Penelope.
“Friends? What difference does that make? She is choosing a husband not a lover.” The dowager carefully chose a biscuit from the tray.
Penelope stared at the dowager.
“You needn’t look so scandalized,” chastised the dowager. “You young people are so much more moralistic than we were in my time.”
“Should I apologize? How was it exactly in your time? Did you entertain many lovers?”
“A lady would never quote a number,” said the dowager with a sly smile. “It used to be a marriage was for family name, inheritance, and breeding. Love was something reserved for other relationships, after, of course, you provided at least one or two legitimate heirs.”
“I can come back later if I have interrupted a private conversation,” said the duke, who was standing by the door.
“Your grandmother was telling me of her numerous lovers. I’m not certain you would quite like to hear it.”
“I am sure I would not. Miss Rose, could I have a moment in the study?” They walked down the corridor to the study, where the butler was standing guard outside the door. “Thank you, Peters.”
“You are leaving nothing to chance,” said Pen, following the duke into the study.
“No, not after yesterday,” said the duke, motioning Penelope to sit down. He sat across from her and she could see worry lines about his eyes she had not noticed before. “I expect the thief will try again, and this time I intend to be better prepared. Tell me what was that man doing here?”
“Blakely? He came to visit Genie without the watchful eye of Lady Bremerton. Genie has a guidebook she wanted to review with him without suffering her aunt’s set-downs regarding the topic of guidebooks.”
“A guidebook for London?” Marchford asked with a twinge of disgust.
“Exactly so.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“Most of the staff have in some way been either threatened or bribed to retrieve what you are hiding in this study.”
“I am aware. I’ve had to send agents out to protect the families of several housemaids and a few have left altogether.”
“Why did I see Mr. Grant here this morning, looking like he had slept in his clothes?” asked Pen.
“We had some fun last night and he passed out on the floor. Not safe to wake Grant until afternoon, so there was nothing I could do but let him sleep.”
Pen raised an eyebrow.
Marchford sighed. “That is the story you are to tell grandmother.”
“Would it do me any good to ask you for the truth?”
“I needed to go out last night and I trust none but Thornton and Grant to guard the letter. The footman and any guards I could hire are vulnerable, and I’ll not trust any agents from Neville’s office.”
“Mr. Grant offered to drive Miss Talbot to the lending library. She left in that high-perch phaeton of his.” Penelope’s tone was accusatory. Marchford may trust Grant to watch over his document, but she did not trust him to watch over Genie.
“You do not approve?”
“If he has no intentions of offering marriage, which I think we both know he does not, he should clear the field.”
Marchford sighed.