The Beggarmaid by McLeod Lesley-Anne

Author:McLeod, Lesley-Anne [McLeod, Lesley-Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER SIX

Genia awaited word from the marquess all the next day. She had rather thought that she and Wessington had achieved a special degree of amity the previous night at the Argyle Rooms. In the marquess’ intriguing company, she had found the evening singularly exciting. She remembered the waltz with pleasure. A thread of the music came to her mind and she hummed a little of it, wishing she had still her pianoforte. The music died away as her current situation reasserted itself. She wished Wessington would come to her. The last remnants of her reputation were surely in shreds, and she had not the slightest notion what next to do.

It was another day before Genia learned from her brother Austin that the marquess had gone from town to his estates.

She must have looked disbelieving for he added, “I had it from someone who had the news direct from Wessington House."

“Well, if it is true,” she said, “it is likely that he is wearied of the foolish exploits of my family. Austin, I do not yet understand how you can have thought it acceptable to escort a lady of only sixteen, not yet out, to a masque at the Argyle Rooms.” She was prepared to impress upon him again the folly of his actions.

Her brother interrupted her. “I have told you! I didn't think. It was just a bit of fun and gig. I was planning to attend, and when I told Julia, she wished to accompany me. It's dashed tiresome being lectured by you, Genia,” he grumbled, preparing to depart the house. “I have had enough of it."

Genia wandered about her cheerless home after he was gone, considering Wessington's sudden departure. She was at a loss to account for it. She had received a note from Lady Dora, thanking her for her intervention, on Julia's behalf. Her friend had said nothing about her brother's departure. She had invited Genia to visit, but Genia, particularly in light of the news of Wessington's defection, had no heart for it.

The marquess—who might somehow have protected her flawed reputation—had gone from town without a word, leaving her to face the ton. She had not thought he would be so unkind. And she had never imagined she would come to such straits. She would be considered thoroughly rash and heedless. Her hard-won invitations might disappear and if they did she would be at point non plus.

“Very well,” she spoke aloud to her reflection in a stained mirror. A spurt of anger overcame her distress. “If the ton wishes to think me licentious, it may. Perhaps I am. Mayhap I shall prove them right. And Wessington may stay in the country forever.” She marched upstairs to search out the disgraced silver and green gown.

Genia wore the gown to a card party a week later, with Lady Dora's scarf. She had provided the ton with abundant gossip that week, attending at gaming hells, frequenting the card room at balls, and being seen with Bednall and Boningale.

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