Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

" R emind me again why it was absolutely necessary for me to come to this?" Thomas stepped out of the carriage and reached to aid his sister.

"Because, dear brother, it is time we put all of Frances' lessons to the test." Jenny's enthusiasm was more annoying as of late. The more she and Frances prepared, the more excited she became to show off her new knowledge.

Thomas looked toward the small gathering of peers standing by a grove of flowers. I don't think there is enough liquor in all of London for this.

"Oh, look, there is Nora; we must go to her first."

Jenny slipped her arm through Thomas' arm. "Remember, no matter how excited we are, we must remain in control of our emotions."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I doubt Frances intended that direction for me."

Jenny looked up at her big brother and grimaced. "No. I suppose not. Nonetheless, I am curious to see how you've progressed with polite society. Nora told me her husband approached you at the club a few nights ago, and you just looked at the poor man and walked away without saying a word."

"I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I left." There should be nothing wrong with that. Thomas was of the mind if you have nothing to say, don't say anything for the sake of petty conversation.

Jenny tugged on his arm. "What would Frances say to that?"

"Hmph."

"A grunt? Are we back to that now? I hope Frances arrives soon to remind you of our agreement."

Thomas schooled his face, but he couldn't ignore the fact whenever his sister mentioned Frances' name, he became hyper aware of everything around him. It was as if he willed the world to stop moving at the mere mention of her name, so he could pick up every detail concerning her. Which was preposterous. He has never felt that way towards any woman. He convinced himself he was worried about the girl's reputation. His concern had nothing to do with any growing feelings he was definitely not having regarding her.

It was far easier to remain aloof. Which brought him back to his current situation. "Where is Nora? I would like to give my greetings and find a drink." He swatted at a fly. "Why must this be outside?"

"Because it's a garden party." Jenny laughed. "Come, Nora is just this way."

Jenny navigated him through the party, nodding her head in acknowledgment of friends and peers. Thomas was quite surprised with his little sister. He often thought of her as a young child, but even he had to admit, the lessons with Frances paid off. She moved smoothly through the throngs of curious eyes and whispering murmurs with ease.

"Ah, Miss Bennet, so nice of you and His Grace to join us." Nora reached out her hands to Jenny and both women kissed each other's cheeks in welcome.

Jenny looked up at Thomas, tilting her head indicating it was his turn. When he remained silent, she nudged his arm.

Thomas sighed.

"Thank you for having us, Lady Honora. It is our pleasure to be here," Thomas grumbled.

Nora stood, staring owlishly at Thomas.

He looked down at Jenny who was smiling proudly back at him. This was ridiculous. He may be a man of few words, but he had some decorum. Didn't he?

"Well, if you will excuse me, I am parched from our ride over here. I am going to find some refreshments. May I get anyone a drink?"

Jenny nodded no while Nora's mouth fell open. She continued to look at him as if he grew a second head in her presence.

Deciding to leave her to whatever was going on in her head, Thomas turned and pushed his way through a crowd. Thomas bristled at a group of young girls who giggled and chirped nonsensical murmurs as he walked past. He really hated parties, but his new position as Duke required him to be present enough to make connections. Which was utter nonsense.

"Ah, you there," Thomas pointed to a steward holding a tray of colorful drinks. "Brandy," he barked.

The steward dipped at the waist and turned to retrieve the drink from a bar cart.

Now that Thomas had found his drink, he was left standing awkwardly by himself. He glanced around to see who he could suffer through a conversation with. He refused to admit he was looking for soft golden hair and hazel eyes.

He landed on a slightly older gentleman who looked vaguely familiar. Curiosity got the better of him and he approached the man.

"Duke Pilton! How are you, Your Grace?" The jovial man reached out his hand. Thomas looked at the hand and exhaled a long, exasperated sigh. He really hated parties.

In these past few months, he has been introduced to more people than he has known his entire life. How was he supposed to keep names straight?

"I've been well, thank you." There was an air of familiarity about this man that tickled Thomas' brain, but he could not place him.

"Frances tells me the etiquette lessons are coming along nicely with Jenny. She enjoys spending time with her. I'm sure you've noticed the amount of time they spend together."

Frances' father . He could see the resemblance now. They both had the same shape of hazel eyes, but where hers were bright and challenging, his looked tired and strung out.

"Yes. Jenny speaks highly of Miss Frances. She has been an immense help to Jenny and me."

Lord Lounton leaned in with interest. "Yourself, Your Grace?"

"Yes."

Both men continued to look at each other.

"How is Frances helping you, Your Grace?"

Oh, right. Conversation. Connections.

"It seems I have a bit of a reputation for being brutish and short mannered with those I come in contact with. Frances has been helping my conversational skills." Thomas looked around at the party. He was itching to look at his timepiece. However, considering this was Frances' father, he found himself pushing through his instinct and brought his attention back to the man standing in front of him. "Oh, and apparently my clothing was offensive to the female variety, so she and my sister teamed up to address my wardrobe."

Baron Lounton barked out a laugh and clapped his hands together. "Those women. They mean well, don't they? Frances was always one to help a friend in need. She is a very caring and well-spoken young woman. You couldn't have picked a better match… for Jenny, that is"

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the Baron. Is he insinuating there is something going on between Frances and me? Thomas had to tread carefully. He had no intention of aiding in the ruination of Frances.

" Yes, she has helped Jenny immensely. I imagine the two are around here somewhere practicing Jenny's conversation skills on some poor unsuspecting earl."

The Baron's outburst of a laugh startled Thomas. "She was always one to over prepare, Your Grace. Actually, she is right over —" His hands pointed to a vacant rose bush. "Hmm. Where did she go?" His eyes scanned the garden for his daughter.

"Ah, there she is. Looks like she's talking to, who is that? Oh. The Lord Lornington or is it Benson? I've always had trouble telling the two apart. They are old friends of Frances'. Both are good men from good families."

Lounton's voice took on a curious note, but Thomas was no longer paying attention to him. He was now solely focused on the slender arm entwined with a man's as they towards the refreshments.

"Sir, your brandy?" The young steward returned with his drink.

Without looking, Thomas grabbed the drink and downed it in one gulp.

Frances thanked Lord Lornington for retrieving her parasol she dropped into the bushes below when she was chatting with Nora and Sara.

"No need for thanks, Miss Ambrose; it was my honor to help a woman in need." Lord Lornington smiled down at her as they walked arm in arm towards the refreshments.

Frances tried to hide her grimace. Dropping a parasol was hardly damsel in distress territory, but she decided to play along.

"Yes. Where would I be without protection from the sun?" she preened.

Lornington patted her arm in a patronizing way that grated on Frances' nerves. She knew she should use this time to brush up on her own conversational skills.

It had been awhile since she spoke with a member of the opposite sex in the hopes of pursuing something more than friendship. However, Lornington was not the one she wanted to practice on. He always treated her as if he was doing her a service by befriending her because she was a Baron's daughter.

He began talking about his horses, but Frances was only half listening. Goosebumps ran up her arm. Someone was watching her, and she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

She brought her attention back to the man escorting her. What was he yammering on about? Oh. Horses.

In her defense, she tried to interject with her opinions, but he steamrolled over all of her attempts. With her luck, God would divine this was the moment she would convince someone to look at her as marriage material, and she'd be stuck with this idiot for the rest of her life.

Luckily for her, once they made it to the table, Lornington was called away by some friends. He left her to peruse the desserts in his absence.

"Miss Frances? How are you today?"

She looked up from the display of macrons to find the friendly eyes of another old friend. "Lord Benson, it is so good to see you! I'm well, and yourself?"

"I'm well, thank you. I saw you were walking with Lord Lornington." He always shared her annoyance with the presumptuous Lornington.

Frances wrinkled her nose and made a noise of disgust causing Benson to laugh.

"Yes. He retrieved the parasol I dropped. He was just telling me about his horses. Fascinating creatures," she replied.

"You always did love animals. Do you still have that dog you rescued?"

Frances smiled; she forgot Benson was there when she persuaded her father to let her keep the stray. "I do. Minnie. Although, he is very old now. Barely moves. Lays in my father's study most days. I fear his hunting days are over."

Benson chuckled. "Minnie? Isn't your dog male?"

Frances shook her head vigorously. "Oh yes. It's short for Minion."

At Benson's quizzical look, she continued. "Um, Satan's Minion. My father named him," she said merrily.

"That name sounds about right. I remember the horrified look on his face when you convinced him to let you keep him and train it as a hunting dog. To know the mongrel is most comfortable with your father means the old man has come a long way where the dog is concerned."

Frances couldn't help but laugh while she poured punch into a cup. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Papa likes to complain about him, but I think he fusses over the dog more than I do."

Benson's laughter died down before hers. "Um, Frances, you seem to have a shadow."

Frances looked up from her glass. "Hmm, what do you mean?" But she didn't need to ask or follow Benson's eyes, which were currently looking just past her shoulder. She knew who he was looking at. Thomas .

Frances smiled into her glass. "Then I guess I shall move out of the sun. I don't want to freckle any more than I already have. Thank you for the conversation, Benson." With a nod of her head, she set down her glass and picked up the parasol. She spotted her father and decided to wander over to him.

On her way, she was intersected by Nora. "Frannie, you're here!" Nora placed a kiss on Frances' cheek. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder and gestured for Frances to follow her. "Look, I know you hate to be pushed towards a potential suitor, but do you remember when Sara and Marie went to the theatre and met the Viscount Gloushire? Well, he's here, and I would love to introduce you to him."

Here we go.

"That sounds lovely, Nora, thank you."

Nora looked at her, her mouth falling open.

Frances placed a finger under Nora's chin and pushed up, effectively closing her mouth. "Nora. Don't be so surprised. While I am happy to continue living as I am, there's nothing wrong with looking at some options. I'm curious if there are any good men left or if my friends snatched them all up."

"I think I've been out in the sun too much for today. You are the second surprise of the day for me."

"Oh, poppycock, I hate coming into second. Who beat me to it?" Frances joked.

"Duke Pilton."

"Oh?" Frances' breathing stopped. She hated how just hearing his name affected her.

"He actually thanked me for the invite and said it was his pleasure to be here. Can you believe it? His pleasure. " Nora's voice was full of wonder and amazement.

Frances' cheeks heated. "Yes, yes. Stop saying his pleasure ." She knew something of his pleasure, and it was not for polite conversation in the middle of a garden party. It didn't help that she could feel his eyes on her.

"I'm glad he was able to hold a polite conversation. He is a duke; it's the least he can do." Frances did her best to sound aloof, but she was failing.

She needed to ignore him. There was a new priority in her life; she couldn't let Thomas distract her. Her family's livelihood depended on it.

"Enough talk of Duke Pilton — where is Lord Gloushire? I'd love to meet him."

"Is that my name I hear?"

Frances turned to see a tall man, slightly older than her, standing by the rose bush.

"Ah, yes, Lord Gloushire, your ears must have been ringing. I was just telling Frances here how I should introduce you. Miss Francis Ambrose, may I introduce the Viscount Gloushire."

"How do you do, Lord Gloushire?" she asked with a slight nod of her head.

"I'm well except for this errant bee that keeps buzzing around me." He swatted at the annoying insect.

"Oh, no! You mustn't swat at them." Frances reached out to stop the Viscount's hand from smacking the bee. "That'll just anger them. Best to leave them to the flowers, and we find somewhere else to stand." Once she realized that she was still touching his arm, she dropped her hand.

Nora couldn't contain her glee. "Oh dear, I must go tend to my husband. Lord Gloushire? Would you be able to entertain Frances? I'd hate to leave either one of you alone to fend off a dastardly bee by yourselves."

Frances raised an eyebrow at her friend. "How kind of you, Honora."

Nora scrunched her nose in mirth. "Oh, I know," she said, ignoring Frances' jab. "One of our favorite places to walk is around our pond. There aren't any rose bushes, so maybe you'll be safe there."

Nora was off before Frances could respond.

"May I escort you, Miss Frances?" Lord Gloushire extended his arm in front of him, letting her lead the way.

"Thank you, Lord Gloushire, I would love to."

As they walked toward the pond, Frances found that conversation with the Viscount came effortlessly which was refreshing since most of the conversations she had been involved with lately had been equivalent to pulling teeth. There were no pretenses with the Viscount: he was easy to talk to and quite the listener.

"Lady Wellington tells me you have a fondness of animals"

Frances nodded. "I do. From big to small, I am fascinated by them all."

Gloushire smiled. "I should introduce you to my daughter. She is forever bringing rabbits and other vermin into our home."

Frances snickered. "Rabbits are not vermin, My Lord. They're adorable."

"Until you find them eating your unmentionables," Gloushire replied dryly.

Frances covered her mouth to hide her laugh. She failed. "Oh dear! That sounds horrible!"

"It was!"

Both of them laughed, enjoying each other's company. They continued their walk around the pond, talking about music, books, and other appropriate topics. She couldn't help but notice how vastly different the Viscount was from the Duke.

"I must thank you again for saving my life back at the rose bush." Gloushire nudged her shoulder as they walked.

"The bee would not have killed you," she chided and nudged him back.

Lord Gloushire faced her in mock horror. "How would you know? Were you conspiring with it?"

Frances pursed her lips. "Of course not. I, sir, am a lady; we do not conspire with insects lesser than us," she said with a false air of prudishness.

"Oh, forgive me, Madam. I would never assume you mix company with beings lesser than you whether they be insect or man," he replied.

The two shared another laugh. Frances took a step and faltered amongst the rocky terrain, but Lord Gloushire's arms caught her waist to stabilize her. "Careful, it seems the ground is uneven here."

Frances looked up into his earnest eyes. Green, not blue. "Um, yes, thank you."

Once she was righted, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "If I'm not being forward, I would feel better if we walked arm and arm, so I can assure your safety."

Frances looked around to see plenty of people milling around in different pairings. Nothing untoward could happen out in the open, so she nodded and kept her arm entwined with his. Yet there was something that felt wrong with the gesture.

She was at a loss for words. She felt a change in his demeanor since her slight slip, and she couldn't tell if she was comfortable with the change or not.

"You mentioned a daughter before; you're a father?"

He nodded. "Yes, of two young children: Michael and Violet."

Frances smiled. "What beautiful names."

"Thank you. My late wife picked them out."

Frances continued their walk in silence.

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to bring the mood down." Lord Gloushire kept his eyes on the ground.

She rubbed his arm. "You did nothing of the sort. It has been brought to my attention that I ask too many questions. I don't want to seem overbearing."

Lord Gloushire chuckled. "I wouldn't dare to assume that. I've enjoyed our conversation. Plus, you saved me from a wayward bee. If you hadn't gotten me away from that bush, who knows what state I would be in."

Frances chuckled. Other than the change in demeanor, she did enjoy her walk with Lord Gloushire. He was polite, funny, and would answer her questions with actual words instead of grunts. Frances chanced a glance at Thomas. She didn't need to look around to know where he was. She could feel his eyes watching her every movement from where he stood on the terrace.

He looked angry. And it set something off inside of her.

"Well, I fear I must bid you adieu, Miss Frances. I told our nurse I would return for the children in time for dinner. Thank you, again, for saving my life."

Frances waved him off. "It was nothing."

He took a few steps and turned back. "Miss Frances? May I call on you?"

Frances swallowed. This is what she wanted. A viscount would be an excellent match for her and would indeed help her family. Yet, words failed her. She only nodded her approval.

With a slight tip at the waist, he turned and left.

Frances watched him leave, trying to dissect the feelings swirling around inside her. She couldn't help but feel she was doing wrong by Thomas which was absurd. Neither one of them had any rights over the other. She was free to pursue a relationship with anyone she pleased. Reclaiming her resolve, she straightened her spine and twirled her parasol in her hand. In fact, she had such a lovely time with the Viscount, she wondered who else she could talk to. After all, a girl needed her options.