Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

F rances peered out the carriage window and waited for her footman to come around. Froudrigh Manor stately stood on the other side of the carriage, ten, maybe twelve steps away. Yes, she counted the steps as she watched Duke Pilton's footman welcome their carriage. So, few steps, yet they felt so daunting, so imposing. Was he in there? The thought was enough to have her morning tea turn in her stomach. Surely, he wouldn't bring up the incident at the dinner party. But what if he does ?

Her carriage door opened, and she slipped her hand into her footman's hand, slowly stepping out onto the road. Regardless, if the duke was in residence, she was about to go in, ready or not.

"Welcome to Froudrigh Manor, Miss Ambrose. Miss Bennet is waiting for you. Please allow me to show you to the drawing room."

Frances followed the footman through the double doors and into the drawing room where she found Jenny paging through a book.

"Miss Bennet, may I present Miss Frances Ambrose?"

"You came!" Jenny slapped her book shut, ran over to Frances, and gathered her in a big hug. The gesture took Frances by surprise. "Oh my! What a welcome! Good morning, Jenny."

Jenny took a step back, "I was so happy to receive your card that I had to respond straight away. Simmons said it was the fastest turnaround for a correspondence he has ever had. Although, that's not really saying much since the previous duke was close to eighty and just sat in his library all day. Do you read? I would show you the library, it is extraordinary, but there is a certain smell that accompanies it, I think due to the previous duke." Jenny's face was flush with excitement.

Frances stood with her arms held in front of her, still semi-embracing Jenny, not really sure what to make of the information that was just thrown at her.

Jenny dropped her hands from Frances' hold and looked at her feet. "I'm sorry, I ramble when I'm nervous." She tucked a curl behind her ear, stepping to the side. "Goodness, I haven't even let you fully into the room. Please, come, sit down. Would you like some tea? Simmons put this cart in the room for us; wasn't that nice of him?"

Frances smiled, taking a seat next to the cart. "I would love some tea, thank you." Relaxing into the chair she took in her surroundings. There was an energy that radiated off of Jenny that naturally drew Frances to her. She shone like a beacon in a darkened, drafty old drawing room. It looked like it hadn't had a proper cleaning in ages although if the previous duke mostly lived out of the library, there would be no real need to give much attention to the other rooms.

"I'm sorry if I'm a bit forward; this is all so new to me. Just the fact that I have a person to bring me tea is unfathomable." Jenny paused to look at Frances. "You must think I'm an absolute dolt to be fascinated at the prospect of tea."

Frances reached out to Jenny, motioning her to sit next to her. "Come now, I think no such thing. If anything, it is refreshing. We take too much for granted in this life; you are nice reminder to be grateful for the privileges we have."

Jenny averted her eyes and played with the hem of her glove at her wrist. Frances recalled the night of the dinner when Jenny would fidget when nervous. I wonder if her brother has any sort of tells. Frances bit her lip. No. She would not think of him. She was here for Jenny, not the Duke.

"To be honest, I feel a bit awkward about it. I'm so used to preparing my own meals that to have someone not only prepare them but serve them to me feels a bit pretentious."

Frances couldn't help but laugh. She grew up in the peerage and thought the same thing. How many times had she snuck extra biscuits or tea, so she didn't have to call on Dorothy to bring some up for her? No point in making someone get her food when she was perfectly capable of getting it herself. Unfortunately, Dorothy's mama always rushed her out of the kitchens if she caught her in there, hence the sneaking food.

"Oh, Miss Frances, I am so sorry. I didn't mean any offense!"

"None taken, I assure you. Please, call me Frances; no need for formalities between us. I think we shall become great friends."

Jenny preened under Frances' compliment. "I do hope so. Truth be told, I thought I'd have more friends than I do now, but if it's not me making a fool out of myself, it's my brother's sneers that chase people away."

Frances' throat dried at the mention of the Duke. Jenny's overwhelming personality washed away any nervousness about encountering the Duke as soon as she entered the drawing room. Unfortunately, now the prospect of seeing him today consumed her once again.

"Speaking of the Duke, will he be joining us this morning?" Frances tried her best to temper the curiosity in her voice.

Jenny waved her off. "Oh, no. He left early this morning without a word to me which is no different than his usual pleasant disposition. I heard Simmons tell the staff he wouldn't return until late this afternoon. Lucky for us we will have all morning to enjoy each other's company without any interruptions from him."

Frances's heart gave a lonely thump. She expected to feel relieved he wouldn't be there to once again accuse her of ill intentions, no doubt. Yet, she couldn't help but feel bereft at the thought of not seeing him. She tucked that away to examine later and focused on the young girl in front of her.

"Tell me, Jenny, you must be excited for your debut. The first ball of the season is in two weeks."

Frances barely finished when Jenny's eyes teared up. "Excuse me, Frances, I seem to be a range of emotions this morning. I'm so embarrassed. I cried in front of you at Lady Staunton's as well."

Jenny took the offered handkerchief from Frances and dabbed the corner of her eye. "It's like I told you at dinner, I've read all the books, but when the time comes to engage with other peers, I lose all sense and stand there with a silly grin on my face, afraid to move."

Frances stood and poured some tea, using the time to plan the best way to help young Jenny.

"I think you don't give yourself enough credit, Jenny. You know what I was thinking when I first came in here?"

Jenny covered her eyes and groaned. "Oh, please no. I can only imagine. I practically threw myself at you and rambled on about our library's odors."

"I thought you are the most engaging, bright, and fascinating young woman I've ever met."

Jenny peeked through her fingers. "You must be joking."

Frances shook her head. "I am not. I'm a very serious person," Frances continued, comically sticking her nose in the air. Jenny laughed at the spectacle.

"In all seriousness, I am being honest. There's this light about you Jenny. I wasn't lying when I said it was refreshing. All the pretenses you mentioned? The pomp and circumstance? That can be taught, and even then, it's mostly just having the confidence to act a certain way. There really is no trick to it. It doesn't come from a birthright, or years taking etiquette lessons, no matter what anyone tells you. If someone tells you that, it's because they are threatened by you, and they need to make you feel smaller. So, take heed, if anyone questions your upbringing, just know that you must be doing something right."

Jenny sat, completely enraptured. "Is that how it really is?"

"No," Frances said with a smirk. "Well, yes and no. It's true I believe a person needs more confidence than etiquette lessons or birthright, but having those two things in combination with the confidence doesn't hurt. And lucky for you, you have all three."

Jenny shook her head, "I know next to nothing when it comes to etiquette."

"You know more than your brother." Frances's hand flew to her mouth. Good heavens! Apparently, Jenny also knew more than Frances. "I must apologize. I did not mean to talk ill of your brother."

Jenny was too busy doubled over in laughter to hear the apology. "Oh, Frances, you never have to apologize for speaking the truth where my brother is concerned. I have said worse about him in his presence."

Frances found Jenny's laughter contagious and couldn't help but join in. "I guess I should reconsider my offer of helping you with etiquette lessons."

Jenny sobered at the thought. "No, oh, please don't. I like you. You don't make me feel like a commoner playing dress-up. I would very much appreciate any support you could give me.

"Very well," Frances said through her giggles. "I suppose we should begin with knowing when to speak our minds and when to keep thoughts to ourselves. I think I need a reminder of that myself."

Thomas stepped out of the carriage and cracked his neck. He would need to see about getting a new carriage. This one was run down and didn't allow much leg room. He's been warding off a leg cramp for the past three miles.

Thomas was met at the door by his steward, Simmons. He and the other servants came with the title. "Good evening, Your Grace."

"Ah, Simmons. Is dinner ready? I haven't had a bite to eat since this morning." After the trials of the past few days, Thomas was eager to get out of London and away from prying eyes. He spent the day at his family's old store.

Once he discovered he was a duke, he hired one of his oldest friends to manage his family's store. He couldn't decide if he was content or angry to see him handling the store so well.

Thomas walked past his steward, handing him his jacket. "I'll be in the library."

"Your Grace?"

Thomas stopped and turned. "Yes? Oh right. The smell. Haven't had a chance to air it out I see. I'll be in the drawing room then. Let me know when dinner is ready."

"Your Grace, Miss Jenny and Miss —"

Simmons was cut off by a pair of squeals coming from the drawing room. Thomas threw a glance at Simmons before opening the door to find two women on the floor, rolling in fits of laughter.

Slightly annoyed his much-anticipated quiet night was now interrupted by fits of giggles, he cleared his throat hoping to quiet them.

Both women stopped their laughter and looked up at him from their spots on the floor. Jenny's face was bright red with streaks of tears running down her cheeks. She looked so young and full of life, it brought an ache in his chest. It was a reminder of why he left the store and all he knew behind. It was for her. He wanted so badly to leave the struggle and worry behind them and offer his sister a better life. She was why he was currently biting his tongue so as not to say anything that would sour her jovial mood.

The girl currently curled into a shaking ball of mirth next to Jenny turned her back to him, most likely embarrassed by her behavior.

"Brother! It's so good to see you! Guess what?" Jenny asked between her hiccupped laughs. "I am to have etiquette lessons."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" He made his way over to the desk with the snifter of brandy on it. "Tell me, sister, what lesson are you on where it is socially acceptable to lie on the floor giggling like hyenas?"

"First, I'm a shark, and now, I'm a hyena?"

Thomas froze. It can't be. He slowly turned to see steely hazel eyes looking up at him. It never occurred to him that the heap of giggling nonsense next to his sister was Miss Frances.

"Your Grace." Her throaty voice vibrated through him.

Her face was flush, her eyes bright. Her hair was mussed with soft waves of golden silk framing her face. Her dress rumpled and wrinkled, probably from rolling on the ground. Everything about her appearance should have been reprehensible, yet he found it oddly arousing. He took a drink, not trusting his voice just yet. Only when the cool liquid settled in his stomach did he reply.

"Miss Frances. If this is how you conduct your etiquette lessons, I must consider finding someone else to help Jenny." He cursed the way his voice sounded strained. Damn this woman and whatever hold she had on his baser instincts.

Jenny rolled her eyes. Obviously, the etiquette lessons weren't taking.

"Oh stop. Frances was going over some of the dances with me, and I accidentally stepped on her dress, causing us to fall. It was quite amusing; I'm sure you would have loved to have witnessed my clumsiness." Jenny raised her hand, indicating her brother should help her up. With a sigh, Thomas grabbed her by the elbow and hoisted her up. Jenny moved to the settee and not so graciously plopped down onto it. "Tell me, brother, how was your day?"

Without thinking, he reached down and offered his hand to Frances, who still sat on the ground quietly watching him. His focus was still on Jenny when he felt the slight hand slide into his. So delicate. Thomas looked down into her hazel eyes and once again couldn't find his words. He pulled her up, and as she stood, her chest brushed against his sending an all too familiar shock through his body. Get it together, man. You don't even like this damned woman.

Thomas took a step back, wiping his hands on his breeches. "It was fine. I don't want to interrupt the etiquette lessons. I feel there is more work I need to attend to."

"Nonsense, stay. I'm sure you could learn a thing or two. Frances wouldn't mind, would you, Frances?" His sister's head lolled on the back of the settee, her eyes closed. She was still trying to find her breath. Thomas looked at Frances, curious for her response. He may not know why she affected him like she did, but judging by the rise of pink in her cheeks, he was not the only one affected. Unfortunately, for him, her interest was probably founded in wanting gossip or to change her standing in the ton . To catch a duke as a husband was a boon for women of age in the marriage mart. The lust he felt quickly evaporated, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"No bother to me. It would be an honor to sit with Your Grace." Her words dripped with disdain but were spoken so eloquently that the untrained ear would have missed their true meaning. She smiled sweetly as she fluffed out her dress before gracefully sitting down in the chair. The facade of a lighthearted companion melted away, leaving a proper daughter of the ton . It was such a smooth transition, Thomas would've missed it if he wasn't paying close attention to her. She definitely knows what she is doing. I was right to keep an eye on her.

"Wonderful!" Jenny sat up and rang the bell, calling for Simmons. "Simmons? Would you mind bringing in more refreshments? Miss Frances and I are parched from our dancing."

Frances let out a soft laugh, "I'm not sure you could call what we did dancing." Thomas noticed the way her eyes softened when Frances looked at Jenny. Maybe her motives were true, and she was only looking to help and not fishing for information? Thomas shoved the thought away. He was a good judge of character, even if being in London heightened his fighting instinct.

"So, tell me, Miss Frances, other than dance lessons, what other areas of etiquette have you touched upon today?"

"We mostly focused around what is expected of her at her debut, Your Grace."

"Ah. How exciting." Thomas couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice although if the truth must be known, he didn't try.

"It is, Your Grace. For a young woman with great possibilities such as your sister, it is a very exciting time. Not only is she beautiful, but she is intelligent and well spoken. You should be very proud." Frances' tone reminded Thomas of an old schoolmarm, and it grated on his nerves. Surprised, Thomas realized he preferred it when Frances had some bite to her. She was performing now, pretending to be the epitome of grace and gentle upbringing. And he hated every bit of it.

"My sister? Well spoken? Are we talking about the same girl?"

Jenny scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out in her brother's direction. "Ah, yes. That's the Jenny I know."

Frances watched the exchange, unmoving — her posture straight and her voice level. "Yes, well, I've only had a day, but I have no doubt, by the time of the start of the season she will be the diamond of the first water."

Jenny gasped. "Do you think so?"

Frances's face broke out in a radiant smile. Thomas shifted in his seat, pulling at his cravat. Where is Simmons with those blasted drinks?

"Jenny, confidence, remember? That's your greatest strength. Walk into that room like you belong there because you do. No one can take that away from you. You'll win them over with your kindness and wit. And don't worry, we'll work on your uncanny ability to tell your life story in one breath," she added with a wink.

Jenny sighed, and for the first time since moving to the townhouse, she seemed comfortable in her surroundings. Could that be because of Frances? This is what he had wanted all along, for Jenny to be supported and taken care of. Had Frances provided the soft landing spot she had so desperately needed after a childhood of loss and struggle?

Thomas rubbed his forehead. The stress of the day and these deuced thoughts were giving him a headache.

"Your Grace? Are you well?" Frances' voice drifted into his head. He couldn't tell if it was helping the pain or causing it.

"Yes. I've been seeing to business."

"Oh? Were you out on business?" Thomas tried not to read into her question. It was just a simple question about his day; she wasn't asking for his itinerary.

"What concern of it is yours?" Thomas bit back a curse. He hated that this woman had any effect on him.

Frances slowly shook her head. "You are not implying what I think you're implying, are you?"

Thomas raised his eyebrows, mockingly. He knew he was being too harsh with her, but he had had too much experience with people hiding their true nature to get what they wanted. She might be pleasant to look at and spoke all the right words to make one feel at peace, but he refused to be taken for a fool.

"Your Grace. I thought we had moved passed this at the dinner party. I am not looking for any gossip. What has happened in your life to cause you to distrust a simple question about your day?"

The audacity of this woman with her flushed cheeks, shining eyes, and sinful lips that she was currently biting. How dare she question a duke? Thomas stood with more force than he intended. "I think I shall retire for the night. Jenny, good night. Miss Frances, I assume you know you're way out?" On a turn of his heel, he walked out of the drawing room. However, he had no intention of going to sleep. What he needed was a stiff drink and some quiet.