Chapter 7

When the Duke of Huntington finally took his leave, Ramsbury Manor was left buzzing with the excitement of William and Albina.

Even Zeus, the family dog, was wagging his tail and running around in excitement, sensing the electric energy in the air.

"Frances, my dear, this is marvelous news!" Albina exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she beamed at her daughter. "God has answered my prayers, finally."

"The Duke is a fine man, and this union will bring great joy and stability to both our families. I couldn't have hoped for a better match," William added.

Frances blushed. She could not remember the last time her parents had given her this much positive attention.

"And the wedding is so soon," Albina said. "Oh, we need to prepare for so much."

"It needn't be a grand affair," Frances cut in. "I think the both of us want something simple—a ceremony at the church, and that is all."

Albina shook her head. "Both my daughters have wanted a small ceremony. When will it be my turn to throw a lavish party?"

Frances smiled. "I am afraid that you are likely to have to wait for Harriet to get married to fulfill that ambition."

"With you also marrying a duke, it should not take much longer for her either." Albina nodded, pleased.

Just then, the door swung open. Harriet, who had been away in town this entire time, stared at her family in confusion.

"Have I missed something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, just some small developments…" Frances blushed, looking away.

She was getting married in a week. Her life was about to change forever.

* * *

The week passed by in what seemed like seconds, and the wedding day had finally arrived.

Harriet and Esther surrounded Frances as her lady's maid added the final touches to her hair.

"You're quite the sneaky little minx, are you not?" Harriet teased. "All this time you were being courted by a duke, and no one was the wiser."

Frances blushed. "It happened quite suddenly. I would not say that I was being courted."

Esther shot her sister a knowing smile, as if she were privy to something that she should not be. "Don't tease her, Harriet. She must be nervous enough already about her big day."

"Oh, you must be doubly pleased that she has joined your ranks and married a duke." Harriet snorted. "I suppose the pressure is on me now—to find one as well."

Esther chuckled, and Frances stole one last look at herself in the mirror. The moment was so close now that her stomach was doing somersaults.

"As far as choices for a husband go, I believe Frances made the right one. I can vouch for Christopher and his character. It's double the happiness for me, to see such a dear friend marrying my sister." Esther beamed.

A knock on the door caught their attention. It was William.

"My dear, it is about time we move to the chapel for the ceremony," he announced.

Frances feigned a smile, trying to tame the storm of nerves that brewed inside of her.

"Shall we go?"

Her father took her by the hand and led her to the aisle. The journey passed by in a flash, and Frances inched closer to the new life that awaited her.

A life together with Christopher.

As they reached the altar, her father placed her hand in Christopher's.

Sensing her tension, Christopher leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only Frances to hear. "I promise I won't step on your veil when we walk together, if you promise to forgive me when I inevitably do," he whispered.

The unexpected humor broke through her nervous facade, and a genuine smile spread across her face. "I shall hold no grudge if you do."

Christopher took in her appearance, a smile forming on his lips. "I have to say that you do look beautiful when you dress up."

Frances blushed at his compliment. He injected humor into everything, making things seem lighthearted. It was a quality that she was quickly learning to appreciate.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a whirlwind of vows and blessings.

Frances and Christopher moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes from family and friends.

Esther and Phillip were among the first to offer their congratulations.

Esther's eyes sparkled with tears of joy as she hugged Frances tightly. "You look radiant," she whispered. "I'm so happy for you both."

Phillip clapped Christopher on the back, his grin wide and teasing. "Well done, my friend. You've finally found someone who can put up with you. Of course, you failed to mention to me that Frances was the mystery woman talked about. I was quite surprised when Esther told me of the union."

Frances caught a small part of the conversation and looked to Christopher for an explanation.

Had he been speaking about her? Was it good things that he had been saying?

He avoided her gaze and instead focused on Phillip. "Well, I suppose it must have slipped my mind…"

"Christopher." Esther smiled. "Welcome to the family. You could not have made a better choice—you too, Frances. I am so happy about this union. Is it not funny how God works in the strangest ways? I never thought that this was even possible."

Frances grew embarrassed at how much her sister was gushing. It was one thing to be excited, but another one entirely to act as though their match was made in heaven.

Or maybe…

A thought came to her mind.

Could it be possible that Esther saw something in them that they did not see themselves?

Frances suddenly became very aware of how she was being perceived. Surely, the news was going to travel fast now that the ceremony had taken place.

Christopher Grant, Duke of Huntington, married.

She could already imagine it being in the papers tomorrow.

The thought made her quite nervous. But Christoper remained unfazed.

"Well, do you have a word of advice?" he asked Phillip, a sheepish smile on his face.

"For the newlyweds?" Phillip grinned and then looked at his wife.

"Who else?" Christopher's tone was sarcastic.

"Well, I will tell you now that you should always assume that your wife is right."

"Pardon?" Esther narrowed her eyes at her husband. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that she is right."

The group shared a laugh, and then it was time for the couple to depart.

Tearful goodbyes were exchanged with her sisters. Before she knew it, Frances found herself in the carriage, returning to her new home, the reality of her title as Duchess beginning to sink in.

Christopher was quiet for most of the ride. He seemed to have something on his mind, and Frances considered whether or not she should pick his brain.

After all, they were husband and wife now—bound together for eternity. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, and she decided to keep to herself, waiting for him to strike up a conversation.

It wasn't until they arrived at Huntington Estate that Christopher finally broke the silence.

"Frances," he started, cracking a smile when he saw her struggling with her rather large veil.

She folded the fabric into half, stuffing it between her arms. "Just a moment… I am not used to wearing clothes this elaborate."

"And yet you manage to pull it off like a natural." He smiled and then offered a much-needed hand.

Frances froze as he came closer to her. She had no experience being this close to any man, and even his lightly moving her veil to the side made heat rush to her cheeks.

When he was done, he stepped back, clearing his throat. "Now, I believe that any union requires some things to be clarified at the outset." His tone turned serious.

Frances nodded, feeling anticipation at what he was about to say next build up inside her.

"We must be on the same page regarding what is expected of this marriage." He sighed. "It happened too fast, but are we both clear on the fact that it is only a marriage in name and a partnership for the sake of the twins?"

"Of course. I am well aware, and do not expect anything different," she replied.

Though a part of her yearned for the traditional closeness that marriage entailed. The romance, the companionship. She pushed down those thoughts are far as she could manage and composed herself.

"I am glad." The relief in the Duke's voice was evident. "I am not one for romance, though my past with women might give you that impression."

Frances looked up at him, surprised. She did not know much about his past, and now she felt naive that she had never asked.

Christopher caught the change in her expression immediately. "By past, I mean that. I have no desire to pursue other women while I am married, if you were unsure about that."

"Oh…" Relief washed over her.

"I suppose it is a story for another day." He smiled. "But we could get to it another time. There is much we do not know about one another."

"The priority should be the children," she stated. "I only wish for them to be settled in a family that gives them the love they need."

Christopher nodded. "That will be your primary duty. But there's more that you will attend to, as you are now the Duchess."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean by that?"

Christopher shrugged his shoulders with an ease that seemed to come naturally to him. "Oh, just the usual responsibilities—managing the household, attending functions together. I do not doubt that you will perform your duties well."

Frances felt a pang of uncertainty. "Your Grace…"

"Christopher," he corrected.

"I… I have one final thing to ask." She bit her lip. "As your wife, will I be expected to provide an heir as well?"

The question had been niggling at her for some time now, and it took her all the courage she could muster to articulate it.

Christopher paused, surprised by her bluntness. "We needn't concern ourselves with that. The twins are our heirs—they are enough."

"Of course. That was what I had in mind as well," she lied, looking away.

"I shall leave you to rest now. The maid will show you to your room. It has been a long day for both of us. The twins must be asleep, but you can check on them if you wish."

She nodded, and she watched him leave, now alone with her thoughts.

His expectations were clear, and she had no reason to be anything other than relieved. Still, they served as a reminder of the strictly transactional nature of their union.

* * *

Frances sat across from Christopher at the breakfast table, watching him scarf down a plate full of eggs with impressive speed.

"Your Gr—Christopher," she corrected herself before he could. He looked up at her.

"You have not touched your food at all," he remarked. "Is the food not to your liking?"

She shook her head. "No, everything is fine. I was just… wondering if the children were going to join us, as well."

He slumped his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. "Considering that they have not in the two weeks since they have been here, I would not be too optimistic."

"Perhaps they just need to be…" Frances paused, considering her words. "Encouraged more."

"Are you this optimistic about everything?"

Frances felt the weight of his gaze on her. "I try to be."

"Then be my guest." He nodded, sweeping his arm around him.

Frances decided to take him up on the challenge. She went upstairs to the children's bedroom. Last night, she had not gotten a chance to interact with them, so this would be their first official meeting with her as the Duchess.

She decided, though, that they were too young to understand what that meant just yet. Everything would come in its own time, and there was no need to rush.

She knocked softly on their door. At first, they looked surprised to see her, but it quickly turned into excitement.

"Frances?"

"I promised you that I would return." She smiled as they rushed over to her.

Ernest was more shy than his brother, but he seemed happy to see her nonetheless.

"Will you stay for long?" Edwin asked, wide-eyed.

"I will, but only on the promise that you eat your meals on time, and in the dining room with your uncle," she replied.

It was a delicate balance to strike a deal with young boys, but she felt confident in her ability.

The twins exchanged a look.

"In fact, I propose we go down there right now. There's eggs and your favorite jam on the table. Just like the one your mother used to make for breakfast."

The twins' eyes lit up at the mention, and they did not protest as they followed her down to the dining room. Frances could see Christopher's jaw drop, even from a distance.

"Why, I cannot believe my eyes," he whispered as she sat back at the table and the maids helped the twins into their seats. "You've done the impossible, once again."

Frances gave him a coy smile. "You are so surprised each time that I am beginning to think that you must underestimate me greatly."

"Never." He shook his head, and she could have sworn he was teasing her now.

But their little moment was short-lived, as Christopher quickly turned his attention to the children.

She watched them interact, a smile forming on her lips.

After breakfast, it was time to begin her training. Today was the day she would learn about her new duties around the manor. The housemaid, Mrs. Bellum, a stern woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense attitude, stood before her, ready to impart the rules and expectations.

"Your Grace," Mrs. Bellum began, her voice firm but not unkind. "As the Duchess, you have certain duties that must be performed to maintain the household's standards. The Duchess's duties are not to be taken lightly, and they require utmost precision and dedication."

Frances nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. She had always been a wallflower, more comfortable in the pages of a book than in the demanding world of household management. But now she had no choice. She had to be perfect—for the children, for Christopher, and for herself. The last one, perhaps, the most important.

She had to prove to herself that she was fit for the title that she had married into.

Mrs. Bellum continued, her tone growing slightly more judgmental. "As the Duchess, you are expected to be punctual in your duties. It is vital that you do this, as any error reflects badly on the household. There is no room for error."

Frances swallowed hard, her mouth dry. The housemaid's words, though not disrespectful, carried an undertone of doubt. She felt that she was being watched sternly and that any misstep would not go unnoticed.

"Your first task," Mrs Bellum said, handing her a detailed schedule, "is to oversee the daily meals. The menu must be approved by you, and any changes must be communicated clearly to the kitchen staff."

Frances glanced at the schedule, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of responsibilities listed. She had to manage the household budget, supervise the cleaning schedules, and ensure that all social events were planned to perfection. The list seemed endless.

"I understand, Mrs. Bellum," Frances replied. "Though, I must ask. Who handled these responsibilities before I was here?"

Her curiosity had been piqued. Somehow, she could not picture Christopher running around, approving the meal menus each day.

Mrs. Bellum cleared her throat, pride flickering in her eyes. "Your Grace, as the head of the staff, those responsibilities were under my jurisdiction."

Frances felt the pressure grow even stronger. It made sense why Mrs. Bellum was so critical—it was her shoes that Frances was expected to fill, responsibilities that she had spent years polishing to perfection.

"Oh. Of course. I shall try to do my best."

Mrs. Bellum gave a curt nod, her expression softening just a fraction. "I hope that you do, Your Grace. The Duchess's role is crucial, and it is important that you rise to the occasion."

As Mrs. Bellum left her, Frances felt a wave of panic wash over her. Her interaction with the housemaid had only reminded her of her mother, what with how grand her expectations were.

It felt strange that she was already worried about failing, even though she had not even started

She walked to the window and looked out at the sprawling gardens of the estate. The children were out there, playing under the watchful eyes of their nursemaids. Frances thought about joining them but then chided herself. But her duties called, and she knew she had to focus.

Taking another deep breath, she turned back to the schedule. She would learn, she would adapt, and she would prove to everyone, including herself, that she was capable of being the Duchess.

The rest of her morning was spent scrutinizing menus, discussing her schedule for the week, and getting familiarized with the estate.

Mrs. Bellum kept a watchful eye on her throughout. She accompanied her during the tour of the manor. When they passed by Christopher's study, he poked his head outside.

"Frances?"

"Oh!" Frances started, not expecting to run into him.

"Care to come in?"

Frances looked at Mrs. Bellum, whose stern and unwelcoming expression only unsettled her further. She decided it would be better to spend time with Christopher, and accepted his invitation.

Once the door closed behind her, Frances let out a sigh of relief. Christopher observed her, laughing as he did. It was like he could read her like a book.

"You do not have to look so terrified, Frances. As intimidating as Mrs. Bellum may be, she is only the housemaid."

Frances straightened up immediately. "I would not use the word intimidated…"she trailed off, even though he was right. "I am just adjusting to my newfound responsibilities."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So you say."

"You do not seem convinced," Frances noted.

"No, no. I believe you." He shrugged his shoulders. "Though, I must ask. Do you always look so pale when you are adjusting to something new?"

Frances blushed wildly. She was quickly learning that the Duke had quite the penchant for teasing her, and she always fell into his trap.

"I should get back to them," she blurted out, darting to the door.

She could still feel him smirking, his watchful eyes on her as she left.

"Shall we continue the tour?" Mrs. Bellum asked, looking at Frances expectantly as she stepped out of the study.

Frances took a sharp breath. "I believe it would be better if we took a break…"

Even though she was the Duchess, she still felt worried that Mrs. Bellum would judge her for ending the tour preemptively.

Mrs. Bellum nodded, her expression unreadable. "Very well, Your Grace. I shall be downstairs if you require my assistance."

Frances breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs. Bellum finally left her alone.

She thought she should visit the children, as their rooms were only a few doors down the hallway.

The moment she stepped into their room, the boys looked up at her and smiled. Though their smiles were tentative, Frances could see that they seemed to be at ease in her presence.

"Mind if I join you, dears?"

The twins exchanged a glance, and then Edwin began to walk over to her. Ernest followed him, curious but cautious.

"Are you here for long?" Edwin asked as Frances sat down on the floor so they were at eye level.

"I told you." She smiled. "I am not going to leave anymore."

Edwin grinned. "I am happy that you are here. Mother mentioned you to us. But she never showed us a photo, so we were not sure what you looked like."

Ernest was staring at her. "Shall we call you Aunty Frances?"

Frances smiled. "My dear, I am your godmother. Your mother and I were very good friends, and she wrote to me often, telling me all about you. I visited you when you were very little."

"Did Mother tell you everything?" Edwin asked.

"Everything and then some more. Believe me, she loved to talk about both of you. As did your father."

The mention of their parents caused a shadow to cross the boys' faces. Frances quickly noticed the change in their moods, and it made her heart lurch.

Perhaps she had been too careless with her statement. She had to do something to lighten the atmosphere.

She clapped her hands together, a hint of desperation in her voice. "How about we play a game? Would you like that?"

The boys looked at each other, then back at her.

"What kind of game?" Edwin asked softly.

"Have you ever played blind man's buff?" Frances suggested, her eyes twinkling. When the boys shook their heads, she explained, "It's a fun game where one person is blindfolded and tries to catch the others. The person who gets caught becomes the next blind man."

Their curiosity piqued, the boys agreed to try it.

Frances improvised a blindfold with a handkerchief and tied it around Ernest's eyes. "Now, you must try to catch us while we try to avoid you," she explained.

The room filled with laughter as Ernest stumbled around, his arms outstretched, while Frances and Edwin darted around him.

"You cannot catch us." Frances giggled, ducking as the little boy tried his best. Next to her, Edwin was laughing loudly.

She realized then how much she liked seeing the children happy, and that she would do everything in her power to hear them laughing like this every single day.

Ernest finally caught her, and she was about to put the blindfold on her eyes when Edwin stopped her.

"My turn! My turn. Please, Aunty Frances. I know I will be splendid at it."

Frances smiled at his enthusiasm. "Be my guest."

They continued playing for what seemed like ages. Even Ernest was beginning to show more of his personality, laughing freely.

When it was Frances's turn to be the blind man, she tied the handkerchief around her eyes and began to stumble around, her arms outstretched as she tried to catch the boys. She moved slowly, deliberately giving the boys a chance to escape.

"The two of you better watch out. I am about to catch you."

Just as she reached out and grabbed an arm, she realized she had caught someone much taller than the children. At first, she thought she had ran into a piece of furniture, since the children wouldn't be so tall.

However, the moment she turned around, a pair of strong arms grabbed her hands and reached up to take off her blindfold.

Her face immediately reddened, like a tomato.

"Christopher…"

"It seems I've been caught." He winked at her, chuckling.

Winked. He Winked!

Frances blushed, stepping back quickly. "My apologies, Christopher. We were just playing a game."

Christopher's smile widened. "No need to apologize. It looks like you were all having a wonderful time." He then announced, "It's my turn to be the blind man."

Frances's heart skipped a beat. "Are you sure? I should tell you now that the children like the game a lot, and that you will be here for a while."

Christopher's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I think I can handle it." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Unless you're afraid I'll catch you too easily."

Frances felt a flutter in her chest at his teasing words. She had never seen him act this way before.

"What is it?" he teased when she did not respond immediately. "Are we playing a separate game altogether now? Cat got your tongue?"

Edwin tugged at the bottom of her dress, giving her the perfect opportunity to hide her face so that the Duke could not see how hard she was blushing.

"Aunty Frances, are we not playing anymore?"

"We are." She nodded. "Just that it is your uncle's turn now."

She noticed that the twins' excitement dimmed slightly at the mention of this.

Christopher, oblivious to this subtle change, took the handkerchief and tied it around his eyes. She couldn't help but admire his easy confidence and how he seemed to bring a sense of lightness to the room. As he fumbled around, reaching out to catch the children, Frances found herself watching him closely.

It was clear that he loved these children more than anything. But they seemed to have some reservations about him.

She made another mental note—she had to bring them closer now that she was here.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the Duke stumbled slightly and reached out, catching her arm by mistake. Frances felt a jolt of electricity at his touch, and she quickly stepped back, her heart pounding.

"Got you," Christopher said, his voice filled with triumph as he removed the blindfold.

"Oh."

He had her. That much was becoming more and more clear whenever she spent time with him.

Their gazes met briefly, and Frances wondered whether he could see right through her.

But before any more words could be exchanged, a knock sounded at the door.

"Your Grace, I have been looking for you. There are still many duties that require your attention."

It was Mrs. Bellum. Frances had never been so relieved to hear her voice before.

"I shall be right?—"

Christopher stopped her midway, raising his hand. "Mrs Bellum, Frances will be with me for the evening. The boys need her as much as the household does."

Frances turned to him with a searching expression. "Do you believe that truly?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I believe getting told what type of china we own can wait another day, don't you think? The children would be sad if you left halfway."

"I am not sure about that." Frances pointed at the twins, who were looking quite tired now.

"Boys, would you like to rest?" Christopher asked.

They did not answer, instead only yawned lightly. The game had tired them out.

"Perhaps this is our cue to leave." Christopher led her out of the room. "But you should stay for some time. My study?"

She nodded hesitantly.

As they walked towards Christopher's study, Frances's mind raced with the events of the evening.

Christopher's playful nature and his teasing words had left her with a mix of emotions she hadn't expected. When they arrived at the study, he opened the door for her, and she stepped inside, her heart still fluttering.

He turned to face her, his expression earnest. "I wish to talk to you about something."