Chapter 15

Life had truly changed for Frances. More and more, she felt like she living out her dreams of some grand romance that she had never thought would be possible for her.

She corrected herself. It was not a romance yet.

There had been no declaration of love from either side. But still, something felt really different between them.

For one thing, the initial awkwardness that both of them had after the kiss was gone. Life had returned to a semblance of normalcy at Huntington Estate. The tension from the ball had dissipated, and Christopher and Frances found themselves growing closer each day.

She had thought about the dance quite a few times since and even dreamed of dancing with him again. She knew that at the next ball they attended together, she would be the one to ask him for it.

"Frances." Edwin wandered into her room. "What are you doing for the remainder of the evening?"

Frances snapped herself back to reality and turned to face him. "I have things to do around the house. Later, I might spend some time in the garden."

She noticed that Edwin's eyes lit up as she said the words. "I was hoping that you would say that."

"Were you now? I wonder why that is?" she probed gently.

"Well, for one thing, I really like it when you talk about gardening. You know so much about it. How is it that you seem to know everything?"

Frances chuckled, thinking back to her childhood. When she was at that age, she too thought that adults knew everything that there was to know. "My dear, it is a deep interest of mine. As you grow older, you will develop interests of your own, and then I will ask you the same question."

"Will you be here still when Ernest and I are all grown up?" He feigned shock, and then excitement.

Even Frances felt taken aback by the realization.

"I will be here, of course," she assured him, thinking to herself that she had committed the rest of her life to being with Christopher and the children.

This was only the beginning.

Edwin broke into the biggest smile possible, and he lunged forward to hug her. Frances eagerly embraced him.

The twins were getting more and more comfortable with showing affection. It felt like a great accomplishment, given the extent of the trauma that they had experienced.

"Can I grow up to like gardening just as much as you do?" he murmured.

"Of course, my dear. You can choose whatever you like."

"Then please let me come with you to the garden today."

Frances's mouth twisted into a smile. "And what about your brother? Shall we include him, too?"

"I am not sure if he likes it much, but he can perhaps play in the garden." Edwin nodded.

Frances held out her hand for him to shake. "Then you have yourself a deal."

Later, Frances was in the garden, tending to her roses. She hummed softly to herself, her hands deftly working among the blossoms. She had kept her promise to Edwin, who was tending to some roses just a few feet away from her while Ernest played in the garden with the governess.

"Do you ever take a break, Frances?" Christopher's voice startled her, and she turned to find him grinning at her.

"How long have you been standing there?"

She had been so lost in her little bubble that she did not notice him sneaking up on her.

He shrugged. "Only a few minutes. I noticed from my study window that the children were outside in the garden, and I came to see for myself. I did not know that Edwin had such a penchant for gardening."

"Oh, it is quite a discovery for me, as well. He told me that he would like to join me in the garden this evening."

Christopher nodded after a small pause, but Frances was quick enough to catch the flicker of doubt that crossed his face for just a moment.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, no. I was just thinking what my father would say if he found a young man gardening," he mused.

"He is not a man yet. He is a child. Besides, I think it is good for him. Gardening teaches you many things, like patience," Frances noted, smiling.

"I agree with you. It is not the most…" He hesitated. "Masculine pastime, perhaps. But no need to thrust the strict expectations of older generations upon him. I am glad that he has expressed an interest."

"I am happy you think that way." Frances smiled and then handed him a small shovel. "Why don't you give it a try, as well? Who knows, you might just end up liking it."

He chuckled, taking the shovel from her hands. Their fingers brushed for a brief second, and she felt a familiar tingle run down her spine.

He seemed to have that effect on her every time they touched.

"You will have to teach me. I am a self-professed newcomer at this…"

"Well, why don't you start off with the weeding? There is some overgrowth here, and you can cut it off," Frances instructed.

Without further ado, Christopher got straight to work. He kneeled down beside her, his scent hitting her immediately. Musky, like the earth but much more pleasant.

"You know," Christopher said, glancing at her, "these roses remind me a little bit of you."

"Of me?"

Christopher laughed at her reaction before continuing, "Why, yes. They are in bloom, as you are."

Frances blushed at his comment and began shoveling harder. He had such a ease to how he delivered compliments, at moments that she never expected.

"You always know just what to say, don't you?" she noted.

He grinned, leaning closer to her. "Only when it comes to you."

They worked side by side, with Phillip asking for her advice every now and then.

After a while, Frances sat back on her heels, wiping her brow. "You know, I think you're getting better at this."

Christopher chuckled. "Maybe I should consider a career change. The Duke of Huntington, renowned gardener."

Frances giggled, and the sound was like music to his ears. "I think you're better suited to the dukedom. But your gardening skills should be appreciated, nonetheless."

He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I have a good teacher."

Once again, it felt like the entire world had stopped, and the only two people that mattered were the both of them.

"Look at what I did!"

Their moment was abruptly cut short by an excited Edwin tugging at Frances's dress, demanding her attention.

Both Frances and Christopher turned to see Edwin holding a small, freshly planted rosebush, its roots wrapped carefully in burlap.

Frances beamed at him, her heart swelling with pride. "Edwin, that's wonderful! You planted your first rose!"

Christopher stood up, dusting off his hands. "Well done, Edwin. That's quite an accomplishment."

Edwin's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can I plant it here in the garden, with the others?"

Frances nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Let's find the perfect spot for it."

The three of them searched the garden, eventually finding a sunny patch where the new rose would thrive. Edwin carefully planted the rosebush, and Frances helped him.

All the while, she could feel Christopher observing her intently.

"You see, Edwin," she said softly, willing herself to not get distracted by Christopher's relentless staring, "gardening is a lot like taking care of a family. It takes patience, care, and a lot of love."

Edwin looked up at her, his young face serious. "I want to take care of this rose, just like you take care of us."

Frances felt tears prick her eyes, and she smiled warmly at the boy. "You're doing a wonderful job, Edwin. We're very proud of you."

She included the word ‘we' intentionally. It was important to her that the children see both her and Christopher as one entity, in place of their parents.

Christopher placed a hand on Edwin's shoulder, beaming, "We are, indeed."

They stood together, admiring the newly planted rosebush. The moment felt sweet, shared by a real family.

As they finished their work, the governess took Edwin and Ernest inside to get changed and begin their lessons.

Frances brushed the dirt off her dress and was about to head inside herself when Christopher stopped her.

"Frances…" He held her gently by the arm, gazing down at her. "Thank you."

Her nose scrunched up in confusion. "Thank you for what?"

"For everything. For being here, for giving the children moments like this…" He paused for a second, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "For being you."

Suddenly, Frances's heart felt full, and she looked away shyly. "It is my responsibility."

She could not stop blushing for a single second as she walked back to the manor.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a carriage arriving.

"Who is that?" she asked one of the maids. She had not been expecting any visitors.

"I shall go see who it is now," the maid replied and hurriedly made her way to the front door.

But before she ever reached it, the door swung open and an imposing woman stepped in, her posture rigid and a scowl etched on her aging face.

Frances stopped what she was doing immediately, smoothing her dress as the woman looked around the foyer.

"Where is she?" she barked at the butler, who trailed behind her as if he already knew who she was.

The woman's eyes then landed on Frances, who looked quite confused by the entire scene. She marched up to her immediately.

"Good morning," Frances said, offering a confused but polite smile. "Welcome to Huntington Estate. How can I help you?"

"Where is Christopher?" the woman demanded.

Her sharp eyes took in Frances from head to toe, a look of disdain crossing her features as she did.

"I am afraid that he is not home at the moment. However, I am his wife. Frances Grant, the Duchess of Huntington. Would you like to sit down?"

A shrill laugh escaped the woman's lips. "Oh, are you going to tell me what to do in my own house now? Little girl, my name is Teresa Grant, the Dowager Duchess of Huntington. I am sure that you must have heard about me."

Frances felt a jolt of surprise but maintained her composure. Christopher had never really talked about his mother much, barring the random mention here and there. But what she did know was that he had not been in contact with her for a long time now. Her visit, then, was not planned. That much was certain.

"Would you like to sit down, Duchess? We can speak in the drawing room," Frances suggested.

She did not know what the purpose of the woman's visit was, but if she were to cause a ruckus, Frances wanted to make sure that it did not happen in front of the children. It was important to her that she protect them from any kind of conflict.

The Dowager Duchess ignored her suggestion entirely, now focusing on the half-done vase of flowers behind Frances. "God, were you arranging the flower vase yourself?" Her tone dripped with condescension. "Such a task is highly irregular for a duchess. It is suited better for the servants, not the lady of the house."

Frances steeled herself, maintaining her smile. "I was merely overseeing it."

Though it is hardly a crime, even if I decided to do it myself.

Teresa continued to look around the room, her gaze finally landing on Ernest and Edwin, who seemed quite confused by the sudden interruption.

"These are the children, I presume? The twins my son so foolishly decided to take in?" she asked.

Frances bristled at the comment but kept her tone even. "Yes, these are Edwin and Ernest. They are wonderful boys."

The twins, sensing the tension, clung closer to Frances.

Ernest, ever the bolder of the two, looked up at Teresa with a frown. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Teresa's eyes flashed with irritation. "I am your grandmother," she said sharply. "And you will address me with respect."

Frances started, panic now coursing through her veins. "He is only curious, you know. As children are. He did not mean any offense."

Christopher, where are you?

Frances got the sense that the Dowager Duchess was a woman who was quick to anger. She did not know how to deal with her on her own and wished that her husband was here.

Teresa rolled her eyes, glancing around the room. "What have you done to the place? The furniture, the paintings, they're all in a different place than what I had left them in."

Frances scrambled for a defense. "I thought to give the place a little change. Christopher encouraged me, and he thought that the changes were quite lovely."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "Of course, he did. My son's trust in you is misplaced, though he shall find that out for himself soon enough. However, as far as I am concerned, you have turned this prestigious manor, which has been in the Grant family's custody for centuries, into some tacky dwelling."

Her words stung, and it was getting harder for Frances to not show a reaction. After all, what did she even do to deserve a verbal lashing like this? But Frances knew that she had to maintain her composure. When it came to herself, she could take whatever the Dowager Duchess hurled at her on the chin.

"I am sorry that you think that way. Perhaps you can give some suggestions as to how I can make it better."

Teresa groaned loudly, rubbing her temples as though she was recovering from a bad migraine. "Oh, it is going to take more than a suggestion to turn you into someone worthy of being a duchess. Unfortunately, my son is the one who is to blame the most…"

Frances pressed her lips together, unsure what to say. She did not want to anger the Dowager Duchess even more.

"Women like yourself are most eager to marry into families like ours. I do not blame you, the opportunity is too good to waste."

"Christopher knows that I chose to marry him in part for the well-being of the children," Frances shot back, albeit weakly.

"Of course. The children," Teresa said sarcastically, turning her attention to the twins once again. "The twins who did not even recognize their grandmother. You seem to have corrupted them already."

Edwin kept silent, while Ernest peeked from behind Frances.

"What is it, boy?" Teresa narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you have something to tell me?"

"You're mean. We don't like you."

The Dowager Duchess's face darkened with anger. "Such insolence!" she snapped, raising her hand and slapping Ernest across the face.

Frances was stunned, frozen for a moment as the reality of what just happened sank in.

Ernest's face turned red, his eyes filling with tears, but he glared back at Teresa, his small body trembling with anger and hurt. Edwin, already more sensitive, burst into tears, clinging to Frances's skirt.

Teresa began to rant, her voice cold and authoritative. "This is precisely the problem. These children are not being raised properly. They lack discipline and respect. It is no wonder, given the circumstances of their birth."

Frances felt a surge of protective fury rise within her. She stepped in front of the twins, shielding them from Teresa. "You will not speak to them that way. And you will certainly not strike them. This is my home, and you are not welcome here if you intend to treat my family with such disrespect."

Teresa's eyes widened with shock and rage. "How dare you speak to me like that? I am the Dowager Duchess of Huntington. It is my place to ensure that my family upholds its dignity and standards."

Frances stood her ground, her voice unwavering. "Your title does not give you the right to abuse my family. Leave this manor immediately, and do not return unless you are prepared to apologize to Ernest."

Teresa took a step forward, her hand raised as if to strike Frances.

But Frances was ready. She caught Teresa's wrist mid-air, her grip firm and unyielding. "I believe you have overstayed your welcome. It is best if you leave now," Frances said, her voice cold and commanding.

Teresa opened her mouth to answer back, fuming. But at that moment, the sound of the door opening startled both of them.

Christopher had finally returned home.