The Gentlewoman's Deception

Ch. 2 // There's A Secret Underfoot

IT MAY HAVE BEEN Louisa's overactive imagination, but the walk home from the tea shop seemed longer, the streets busier than usual. She wasn't a huge fan of crowds, but it was the first somewhat sunny day since the spring equinox, so it did make sense that the townsfolk would take advantage of such a rarity.

Surely her and Sir Genkins' antics hadn't created such a ruckus that they drew in a crowd of onlookers...right?

That was the problem with courting Sir Genkins–he always had her returning home in a mess of embarrassment and shame. She may not know much of romance, having memorized the basics from the many novels in her possession, but from what she did know, Louisa was certain no man should be the reason for his future wife's downfall.

Future wife my foot, she huffed. I just need to smile at the passersby and focus on keeping a leisure cadence for the short promenade home. Then, I can forget all about Sir Genkins until he calls on me next, which, hopefully, won't be for another few days.

"Good morning, Miss," greeted a kind stranger with a tip of his hat.

"Morning," a slightly caught off-guard Louisa murmured.

Now would have been a nice time to have a sip of soothing tea, no matter how bitter or pungent she thought it to be. That is, if it hadn't already saturated the dress she senselessly spent a month's allowance on.

Louisa groaned. Sir Genkins, you truly are the bane of my existence.

She continued ahead, eager to decompress in the comfort of her home and away from nosy madams looking for the latest on dit. Louisa was never one for faking a pleasant countenance, something she was sure would throw her in the midst of scandal someday, but she managed to stay poised. The quicker she returned home, the less chance there was of her getting into more trouble.

Still, her conscience maintained a slew of negativity. Did she overreact at the tea shop? Truthfully, Louisa was the one to blame for the tea spilling. If she made more of an effort to feign interest in Sir Genkins' hobbies, no matter how odd they may be, perhaps she would have noticed how close her elbow was to falling off the table. His whiny voice wouldn't have caught her off guard and she wouldn't have ruined her gown.

"Was I so dreadful in a prior life that I must suffer in the company of such a daft man?" questioned Louisa aloud, hot tears of frustration prickling her eyes. "Never once has he asked about the novels I've read or how far along I've come with my embroidery. Am I that uninteresting?"

Louisa wasn't dumb. She knew most gentlemen preferred a quiet girl who looked after the house opposed to one whose mind was riddled with the intellectual abundance books had to offer. But holding her tongue was a skill Louisa had yet to master. And as her father always said, "a mind well read is a mind well fed."

William Baker was the only man in Lousia's life that encouraged her inquisitiveness and philosophical ways of thinking. Not many suitors would hold a conversation with a lady who was more well-versed in current happenings than they were. Louisa learned that the hard way when she first met Sir Genkins and contradicted his opinion on the Federal Congress' limitations of American civil liberties.

Did that mean Sir Genkins only courted her because of her appearance? Louisa halted dead in her tracks and turned to the window of Pembrooke's Pâtisserie, a shop she usually hurried right on past. Sir Genkins tended to remind her that the French fabrics of her dresses were far more precious than the French pastries sold at the shop. Something about threatening the value of gowns by altering the waistline after eating too much. Frankly, Lousia couldn't care less about Sir Genkins and his preferences. He was far too high in the instep for her liking anyway.