Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

F rances once again found herself staring out the window of her morning room. Dorothy was behind her setting out biscuits and preparing the tea. Lord Fealton had said he would call today, and he was a man of his word.

Frances told Dorothy she was watching for Fealton to arrive, but in truth, she was staring out at a world she no longer felt a part of. It was amazing how one night changed her entire perspective of her life altogether.

The door to the morning room opened, and her father walked in. "Ah, Frances. How are you this morning?"

Frances tried her best to stifle a yawn.

"Goodness, child. It doesn't look like you slept a wink!" Her father's worried voice only made her feel worse.

"Dorothy? Do we have anything that could help her?"

Dorothy wrung her hands. She had heard Frances crying in the night. She checked in on her, but Frances would only cry.

"Papa, I'm fine. Just a lot of excitement last night between the ball and the storm. It was just a restless night."

Solomon just stood there awkwardly. He was never good with her emotions. "Yes, well. It was quite a storm; you're right there. I have men coming out today to clear away the broken branches lying across our walk. How was the ball?" He took the offered tea from Dorothy.

Frances took a deep breath to steady her breathing. Her throat was scratchy from her time with Thomas and the sobs that broke free later. She tried to clear her throat. "Um, yes. I did. I danced with Lord Fealton."

Solomon's eyes lit up, and he looked joyously between her and Dorothy. "Well, that's fine, then, isn't it! Did you hear that Dorothy?" Solomon looked positively reborn which made Frances' heart break all over again.

"Yes, My Lord, I did. It's wonderful news." Dorothy's solemn reply had Solomon sitting up.

"What's this? Why do the two of you look as if someone died? Did something happen at the ball last night, my dear?"

Frances shook her head. "No, Papa. In fact, Lord Fealton confirmed the last conversation I had with him. He asked to call on both you and I this morning to discuss a proposal."

Solomon whooped and clapped his hands. "That is wonderful news! Oh, Frannie, you did it!"

Nausea rolled through Frances' stomach. "Yes, it truly is grand news, Papa. I'm sure he'll be here this morning." Frances looked out the window one more time and sighed. "However, I think I'll retire to my room in the meantime. Dorothy? Will you come get me when he arrives. I'm going to try to freshen up a bit."

"Yes, of course."

Her father reached for her hand as she passed him. "Frannie, are you sure you're all right? You know, if you don't —" he stopped himself. She could see the war in his eyes.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "It's all right, Papa. I'm just tired from a wonderful night. I'll see you when the Viscount arrives." She placed a kiss on his cheek and made her way to her room.

Frances woke to the curtains being drawn open.

"Is he here?" Her voice was groggy; she sounded as if she hadn't spoken for days. Her eyes were gritty, and she was suddenly very aware of her growling stomach.

"No, Frannie, he hasn't come." Dorothy sounded troubled but continued with her routine.

"Oh, well, he must've gotten caught up with something. I'm sure he'll be here."

Dorothy looked to the door before sitting beside Frances on the bed. "Frances, you slept an entire day."

Frances bolted upright. "What? You must be joking."

Dorothy pointed to the window. Puffy white clouds dotted the crystal blue sky. The trees gently swayed, and all havoc caused by the storm had disappeared.

"Did Lord Fealton come? Why didn't you wake me?" Frances ran to her dresser and began brushing the knots from her hair.

Dorothy's gentle touch stopped her from ripping her hair out. "What? Is he downstairs now?"

"Frannie, you're not listening. He didn't come. You slept all day yesterday. I came up to check on you shortly after you left the morning room and found you completely passed out on top of your covers. You didn't wake when I removed your dress and shoes. I tucked you back into bed, figuring I'd help you redress when he came. He never did."

Frances turned to Dorothy. "I don't understand. He said he would come."

Dorothy shrugged. "Is it possible you misheard him?"

Frances' mind was still muddled from losing a day. "I suppose. It does get rather loud between the music and people dancing. It is possible he said another day, but I honestly thought he said he'd call on us today, er, yesterday." Frances rubbed her temples. This was all so confusing.

"What time is it?"

"Half past five in the evening."

Frances groaned. "No wonder I'm famished. I slept almost two days away."

"I'll get a tray for you right away. Mama's been worried about you, so she prepared some of your favorites for when you awoke. I'll go get it for you. You may also want to check in with your father. He's been worried about you."

Frances nodded. She slipped on her shoes and a house coat around her shift and went in search of her father.

She found him in his study with the ever-dutiful Minnie at his feet.

"Papa?"

Solomon's grunt was barely audible over the sound of papers he rustled through.

"Papa?"

"WHAT?" he snipped. "Oh, Frances. I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't mean to snap at you."

She closed the door behind her. "Is everything ok?"

Solomon shook his head reverently. "Yes, yes. Nothing for you to worry about. Is Lord Fealton here?" Frances swallowed the lump in her throat that formed at the hope in his voice.

She shook her no. "I'm afraid not, Papa. It's late in the day. I must've gotten my days mixed up when we danced. If you'd like, I can write to him and invite him. The least it will do is show him I'm still interested in an arrangement. And we must remember, he's a busy man with two young children. I'm sure whatever is keeping him is a reasonable excuse for his delay."

"Yes, that's fine. Write to him at once. The sooner we are to a marriage the better."

Frances straightened her back. "Yes, Papa. I'll do what I can to help move our situation along."

Solomon stood staring at his daughter. A look passed over him, and his features softened. "I'm sorry, Frances."

Frances tilted her head. "For what, Papa?"

Solomon lifted his hands and let them drop. "For everything. For your mother passing when you were young. For not being here while you grew up. For putting the survival of this family on your shoulders. This is not how I envisioned our lives when your mother told me she was expecting with you." His voice broke on "mother", and her resolve broke with it. Wiping away tears she walked to her father.

"Don't be sorry, Papa. I know I was an outspoken, curious girl who was not easy to maintain. It could not have been easy. But you're no longer alone in raising me. I am a grown woman, able to make my own decisions. I will see this through."

She placed a kiss to her father's warm cheek. "Now, come, I'm famished from sleeping my days away. Will you join me for a bit of supper?"

Solomon agreed and walked her to the door of his study but not before tripping over the sleeping Minnie. "Damned dog. Promise me, Frannie, when you marry, you take that blasted dog with you."

Frances giggled. "I would never dream of separating the two of you."

Jenny pushed through the door to the library, causing it to thud against a shelf of books.

"I know you have been officially welcomed into the ton, but don't tell me you've forgotten the most basic of manners already?" Thomas' voice growled from where he sat at his desk.

"What have you done?" Jenny's voice trembled.

Hearing the contempt in her voice, he looked up from his book and at his sister. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying, and her cheeks were flushed from running.

He sprang out of his chair and rushed over to his shaking sister "Jenny! What has happened? Tell me, did someone do something to you?"

"You!" She pushed him away. "Only you didn't do it to me , you did it to Frances! "

The world stopped moving at the mention of her name. For three days, she was all he thought about. No amount of liquor, fighting, reading, sleeping, working could drain that woman from his system. She had invaded every fiber of his being, and he didn't know if he welcomed it or not. The pain was excruciating to be sure, but he'd rather deal with pain than emptiness. Pain he was used to; pain he could use. The empty void that lay ahead of him scared him more.

"Frances? What of her? I haven't seen her since our dance at Lady Staunton's ball."

Jenny shook her head in disbelief. "She was nothing but kind to you, to me ! She was the first one who truly accepted us, and you turn around and treat her this way!"

Thomas reached out and grabbed Jenny's shoulder. He felt like shaking her until she made sense.

"What are you talking about, Jenny? Is Frances all right?" Images of Frances hurt, lost, broken overwhelmed his exhausted brain. He had to get to her.

"No. She's far from all right. You ruined her!"

The words punched him right in the stomach. "What?" How would anyone know? He took them further into the house. No one was around when they were in the hallway or when they opened the door to leave. He checked the kitchens and the main hallway. Only the steward was there, and he paid him off. Although, the fear in the young man's eyes was probably enough to know he wouldn't talk, but Thomas learned a little coin went a long way.

"I don't —"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Thomas," she bellowed. "Someone saw you in the hallway at Lady Staunton's, and now, rumors are flying free, putting dear Frances' name through the mud." Jenny's words became garbled with sobs. "You should hear some of the things they're saying about her. Especially Marie. That postering witch is having her fun with Frances' reputation. Now what will she do?"

"I wasn't going to lie to you, Jenny." Thomas' voice sounded foreign even to his own ears.

This can be salvaged. I can fix this. I must fix this for Frances.

"She ran out of the ballroom after our dance." True. "I wanted to check on her, so I ran after her." Also true. "She asked me to tell everyone she wasn't feeling well." Truth by omission can still be considered truth, right?

Jenny eyed him. "If that is true, then fix this for her before word gets to the Viscount. This will most likely be her last chance at marriage and helping her father. Your word as duke will go a long way. I'm sure of it."

Thomas grabbed his coat which he threw on his chair when he came into the library.

"Thomas?"

"Hmm?" He began to button his coat.

"Do you love her?"

Another punch to his stomach. "What?! Why would you ever consider that?"

"Because you can save her, you can have her, and all of this will go away."

Thomas has been fighting that very thought for the past three days. But he always came up with the same answer. She deserved a man like the Viscount. Someone who could handle his moods with grace, who was kind and gentle. Who wouldn't dream of taking her virginity in the middle of a ball. He probably would've laid her down on rose petals or something equally pedantic. Thomas huffed. She would hate rose petals. If he could do it again, he would've crushed some woodruff and laid it about in small dishes to have the smell of vanilla fill the room.

"No. She belongs with someone better."

Jenny's laugh held no mirth. "Who is better than a duke?"

"No one. But when it comes to her, anyone is more suited for her. She deserves more." Thomas left his sister in the library. He couldn't hear her response. He had to figure out a way to stop the gossip mill from spreading. And in the ton , he knew he was facing an uphill battle.