Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

T homas sat at his desk, trying to focus on the book in front of him. The smell of vanilla wafted in through his window. The sweet scent sent his mind to the dining room, and he groaned. He couldn't stop replaying the dinner lesson with Frances in his mind. And quite frankly, he didn't try to stop. When he ate breakfast, when Jenny talked to him, when Simmons helped him dress, all day, every day, he couldn't get her vanilla scent and sweet taste out of his mind. At night when he closed his eyes, he saw her hazel eyes bursting with elation when he found her wet. The way her body molded to his when she pushed up against him. Damn, he was getting hard thinking of her.

One moment stood out to him. And it was the one he was thinking about now.

She trusts me.

That moment shocked him the most. How someone so delicate, so proper, so gentle, would so willingly hand over control of her body amazed him. He never considered how empowering it was to have someone's trust.

He had earned many people's trust when he was a shopkeeper, but this felt different, and he didn't know why. Frankly, he didn't care. All he knew was Frances went from a giggling friend of Jenny's to an enigma that completely consumed his thoughts.

"Your Grace?" Thomas looked up to find Jenny standing in the doorway.

"Jenny. What is it?" Talking to Jenny took an effort he didn't have.

"I have something rather delicate to talk to you about."

Thomas raked his hands through his hair. If this was about one more petty dispute between two farmers and where cows were allowed or not allowed to roam, he was going to throw something.

"Come in then."

Jenny sat in the chair in front of his desk, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"Well? What is it? I have important things to do." And important things to replay in my head.

Jenny pushed out a deep breath. "Remember when I took tea with Frances, Miss Hornsby, Lady Wellington, Lady Stellon…"

Thomas waved her on. "Yes, yes, I don't need a damn headcount. Get on it with."

"Well, there is some talk about town about you —"

"That's nothing new, Jenny. Now, really, I must get back to work." Thomas nodded to the door before focusing back on the book he had been staring at for the past hour.

"You didn't let me finish. There's talk about you and Frances."

Thomas' head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on his sister. "What?" he grounded out.

"There is some speculation about her intentions when coming here," Jenny offered.

" Her intentions? What does that mean?"

Jenny began to fidget again, glancing at the door, most likely looking for the quickest escape route.

"Some people are assuming she is coming here to, um, entice you into marrying her."

Thomas growled into his hands. "I hate this town."

"She was the first person to really welcome me here, and I hate to hear rumors about her, but…" Jenny shifted in her seat.

"But. What?" Thomas snapped

"I fear I aided the rumor."

"WHAT?" Thomas yelled. "What did you say and to whom?" Thomas jumped from the chair, slamming his hand on the desk.

"It was when we were at tea. I mentioned there were a couple of times when you two were left together. I didn't mean anything by it. I just mentioned it off-handedly, but Marie was there."

"Marie?"

"Lady Stellon. I don't like her. She seems manipulative and cold. I honestly don't know why Frances is friends with her."

"So you thought adding more fuel to fire in front of this Lady Stellon was a good idea?" Thomas was fuming. This was why he hated London and polite society. These people exchanged gossip as currency, not caring who they took down in the process.

"No! Of course not. Like I said, it was an accident. I didn't know she would say anything outside of the group. Thomas, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize to me ! It's Frances that will be ruined if this rumor goes too far."

Jenny rushed to him. "I think I managed to aid in some recovery."

Thomas huffed out a breath. His head was throbbing, and he desperately wanted to get his hands on something, anything, that he could hit. It was moments like this he missed his old life. There was a club by the shop where he could spar with other patrons.

"When I went shopping with Nora the other day, someone in a shop mentioned it. I quickly chastised her for perpetuating a terrible rumor. The woman looked downright embarrassed. You would have been proud of me. I mimicked your cadence and smugness. I think I scared her."

"Nonetheless, you must be careful. I know this is not the first time your mouth has gotten you in trouble. Take heed of your words, Jenny. Frances has been kind to us; she doesn't deserve a scandal."

Jenny squared her shoulders. "I admit my involvement in this however you must own up to yours."

"Mine?"

Jenny smiled and her body relaxed. "Thomas, I'm not going to pretend you're an idiot and explain it in detail. But I will say, if I have to control my mouth, you need to control your eyes."

She patted him on the shoulder and left Thomas staring at her retreating back.

Frances sat, looking at herself in the mirror. Did she look different? She felt different. If someone had told her she would let a duke lay her down across a dinner table and touch her in the most intimate of places, she would have laughed in their face. And it would not have been a lady-like laugh.

"Miss Frances." Dorothy entered after a knock. "Your father is downstairs and asked to see you."

"Thank you, Dorothy. I'll be right down."

Frannie turned to leave but hesitated. "Is everything all right, Frannie? You've been very distant as of late. Did I do something to upset you?"

Frances chewed her lip. She always confided in Dorothy, ever since they were young children. Dorothy knew all of her secrets, well almost all of them. But just as she needed the Duke to keep their tryst a secret, so must she.

"No, of course not, Dorothy. I'm sorry I'm spending a lot of time with Jenny lately. She's coming along and shows so much promise. She really will do wonderfully this season."

"Are you worried about your prospects with fresh blood in the water?"

Frances smiled. "Why must everyone compare the ton to shark infested waters?"

Dorothy shrugged, "The comparisons are endless, I'm afraid. How much time do you have?"

"Oh Dorothy, I have missed your sense of humor. But don't fear, all this talk of dancing and balls has not changed my mind as to where I currently stand in the ton's eyes. If I shall become a spinster, then so be it. I enjoy my friendships and my standing."

"Speaking of friendships —"

Frances raised her hand. "Stop. I know what you're going to say, and the answer is no. No, I am not pursuing the Duke for marriage. I am helping both Jenny and the Duke with acclimating to the climate and pressures of the ton ."

Dorothy lowered her head. "I meant nothing by it, Miss. I just don't want to see you hurt. Although, if you want to pursue the Duke, I don't see why he wouldn't want you. But at the same time, rumors like this have a way of getting out of hand, and before you realize it, you're ruined."

Frances sighed.

"Your concern is appreciated. Truly. But one," Frances put up one finger, "I can withstand unfounded rumors. And two," she brought up another finger, "I gave up on marriage, so if I become ruined because of this, then so be it. I have resigned myself to a life alone."

"You won't be alone. You'll have me." Dorothy said with a big smile.

Frances returned the smile. "And I can't imagine a better life. We can be spinsters together. We can save some cats from the streets and drink ale until we pass out."

"You and your animals," Dorothy chuckled. "Which reminds me, your father tripped over Minnie yesterday, and he swore he was going to take the poor dog outside and shoot it if it wouldn't leave his study."

Frances shook her head. "He's all talk. I think he secretly loves that dog, but I'll try to remove the nuisance from his sight. Do you know where Papa is?"

Dorothy stood to the side of the door. "He is in his study. Would you like me to prepare your room for your nighttime ablutions for when you're done with your father."

"Yes, please, Dorothy. I would appreciate that." She passed Dorothy at the door and gave her a hug. She found comfort in knowing she had people who cared about her, but she was really getting tired of having to defend her relationship with the Duke. Of course, her actions spoke louder than her words. She is adamant they are just friends, but does a friend touch another friend like that ?

It doesn't matter. Duke Pilton wasn't for her; he was an end to a means, and that was it. If anything, she should thank him. It was because of her time with Thomas that she was even more comfortable with her standing. She wanted to experience this particular part of life before she was shelved by the peerage. After she and Thomas fulfilled her request, she'd happily live the life of a spinster.

Her cheeks heated with the memory of his wandering fingers. The excitement and elation she felt that day crashed down on her again. She felt as if she was about to burst. She stood outside her father's study, counting her breaths to calm down. She needed something else to focus on.

With a knock on the door, she pushed it open before he answered.

"Good evening, Papa. Dorothy said you wanted to see me?"

"Ah, yes." Her father gingerly rose from behind his desk and met his daughter by his very well-worn Chesterfield sofa where their dog lay, comfortably snoring. "Come sit, my dear. We need to talk." He shooed the dog from the sofa and patted the seat next to him.

Her heart plummeted to her stomach. He knows about my affair with the Duke. She shook the thought from her head. Impossible. They had been careful. Hadn't they?

She sat down with her father by her side. "Is everything all right, Papa?"

He took her hand. "I have some bad news. I know you've noticed my absentmindedness and overall mood these past few weeks. The truth is I've been waiting to tell you this until it was absolutely necessary, and I feel the time has come."

Frances rubbed her hand over his. "Papa, you're scaring me. What is it? Are you sick?"

"No, fit as a fiddle as it were. We've hit a few bumps these past few months where my business is concerned. I had some hope for one of my ventures to go through, but I just informed it did not work out as planned."

"Oh, Papa, I am so sorry." Frances knew her father was a proud businessman, and if he was admitting failure to her, there must have been a terrible blow.

"Thank you, my dear." Solomon tightened his grip on his daughter's hands. "I fear we'll have to cut back on some expenses this Season. We'll have to cut back a lot , actually."

"Is that all? Papa, we can do that. I'm sure Dorothy and I can repurpose some old gowns and spruce them up with ribbons and such that we have here. Please don't worry about me; the only man I want to impress is sitting across from me."

She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "We'll make it work." She went to stand, but her father grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.

Her father smiled, but she saw no consolation in his eyes. "Is there more?"

Solomon sucked on his bottom lip. "I don't think I fully and properly explained the situation we're in. My darling, we are broke." He paused for the words to sink in. "I've gone over everything, and, unless we come into some money, and fast, we may not be able to continue living as we are. Or anywhere near it."

Frances sat stunned. Her mind whirled with the consequences of her father's admission. Where would they live? What about Dorothy and the other servants?

"Which brings me to a rather sensitive topic. You know I've never pressured you to be anything other than yourself. I would love if you could continue living your days by your will, but I fear that is no longer the case."

Frances rubbed her temple. "I'm not following you, Papa."

"Duke Pilton."

Frances glanced at her father quizzically. "What of him?"

"Well, you are often with him. And word around town is you get along with him, and he seems fond of you. Perhaps there is something there you can explore? Marriage to a duke would certainly go far in getting us out of our current predicament."

Frances could scream. Has the damned town planned her wedding to the Duke? No one ever paid attention to her, yet now, all of a sudden, a grumpy duke comes along, and she is the belle of the ball.

"Papa! I will not marry Duke Pilton!"

"And why not?" Solomon had the audacity to look shocked. If she wasn't a spinning whirlwind of emotions right now, she would have found it endearing. He really believed any man would be lucky to have her, yet he would allow her to live in spinsterhood and not consider it a blight on the family.

Frances shook her head. "Because he is a duke! A baron's daughter is no match for a duke. The ton would go into apoplectic shock at the news. Not to mention there is nothing between us to warrant a match."

The image of bodies writhing, hands wandering, and hot kisses flashed in her mind. Frances shook the heat from her body. No. She would not let herself confuse what she was doing with the Duke for anything less than him paying her a favor.

"I stand by my earlier statement. I will find a way to help. Dorothy and I will go through my dresses tomorrow, and I'm sure the next big deal is right around the corner for you, Papa. We will get through this."

"You don't understand how business works, Frances." Her father shot back at her.

Frances sat up straighter. Her father rarely raised his voice at her.

"This is not some game. We need more than saving small change on silk ribbons and ruffles will give us. We need to think on a larger scale. I'm looking into some new deals, but my standing within the trade has faltered due to my missteps. I am doing my best to right it, but I need you to consider marriage. If not to the Duke, then to someone in better standing than us. Which, honestly, shouldn't be hard to find."

Frances closed her eyes and willed the tear that was about to fall to stay behind her eyelid.

She took a deep breath and pushed it out. When she opened her eyes, her father had moved to the bar cart and was pouring himself a brandy. She rose and crossed the room to her father. "I will consider it, Papa. But I have faith in you and your business. You've gotten us out of tough spots before. Plus, I think you're forgetting how resourceful I can be when I need to be. Please don't let this weigh too heavily on you." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I must retire. I have Nora's garden party tomorrow." She walked to the door, stepping over the snoring dog. She'd leave him there; her father needed a companion. "Good night, Papa."

Solomon followed her to the door and kissed her forehead. "Good night, my dear."

As Frances made her way to her bedroom, she replayed the conversation with her father in her mind. If only she could marry Thomas, life would be easier. If she was the manipulative sort, she could easily trap him into marriage, but she felt dirty just thinking it. Besides, she stood firm that a duke and a baron's daughter were no match. She would have to be na?ve to think what they were doing was anything more than a friend helping a friend.

Pursuing anything with Thomas would muddy the water and confuse her.

Frances sat at her dressing table once again. She brushed her hair while thoughts of Thomas intruded her mind. His words replaying in her head gave her the same thrill as the first time she heard them. Even now, her body swayed to the rhythm his commands demanded of her .

She didn't know bodies could move like hers did with him. He commanded her, and her body reacted on instinct. A familiar tingle started in her core, and her eyes drifted closed.

She wanted to relive that moment when she felt completely lost to her body's sensations. There were no societal rules or judgment. Just two people exploring and sharing the most intimate of practices.

Frances opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. The weight of the conversation with her father slowly dismantling the memory. Her quest to become a woman was now second. A new priority entered the game. Her father's situation is much worse than she first thought. While a growing part of her wished she lived a different life, so she could pursue Thomas, she knew she had to set her sights a little lower. And thanks to Thomas' own brand of lessons, she was gaining confidence in herself. She could feel her body move differently, and she was even more engaging in her conversation. These could be tools for her to use in pursuit of a match. Thomas' lessons were proving to be a greater help than any elocution lesson she had.

She was more prepared now. She was ready, and she was determined to use those skills to land herself a husband.