Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

F rances had spent the last few days pacing in her room. She was certain Dorothy picked up on her odd mood, but thankfully, she didn't needle Frances when she lied and said she was fine. She was far from fine. Fine wasn't even on the horizon.

She was going back to visit Jenny today. Her stomach was a chaotic mixture of excitement and nerves. It is one thing to remain resolute in her decision ever since the salacious idea formed in her head the other night. It was an entirely different thing to convince the man she intended to proposition to agree. She had resolve, and her upbringing, and if those two failed, she had her stubbornness. She hoped that was enough.

She intended to use the carriage ride to their house to finalize exactly what she was going to say to the Duke. Unfortunately, every time she came up with an opening line, her brain replayed their time in the library, and she found herself gazing out the window with a silly grin on her face.

Once again, she found herself standing outside his residence wondering if he was home. It would be her luck to become so worked up, and the brute wouldn't even be there. And, yes, she still thought of him as a brute. He might be her means to an end, but he still riled her. Which is why, she rationalized, he was the perfect solution to her problem. There would be no chance of it developing into anything more.

Simmons ushered her into the drawing room where she once again found Jenny reading. "Good morning, Jenny. Reading again, I see."

Jenny smiled, not lifting her head. "I know, a dreadful habit I'm told."

Frances waved her off as she sat. "Whomever told you that probably couldn't read."

"My brother."

"I rest my case then."

Jenny threw her head back in laughter. "That is why I like you, Frances. May I be honest with you?"

Frances sat forward in her chair. "Always."

"When I first saw you and Lady Wellington that night at Lady Staunton's dinner party, I assumed you two were going to be dreadful to me. You both looked so prim and proper. You knew how to stand, how to smile. You appeared to be levels above me." Jenny closed her book, putting it on the table next to her. "My brother prepared me for our entry into society by telling me that everyone was out to see us fail due to our upbringing. I was to keep my guard up, especially around women."

Frances grimaced. "I thought this was about how you like me?"

Jenny chuckled. "It is! I promise. He had me so worried that I would make a mistake, and everyone would laugh. I was so afraid, I didn't want anyone to talk to me, but then I didn't want to be a wallflower standing by myself either." She looked up from her hands. "He had me so confused," she continued, rolling her eyes. "But then you came up to me. You were so kind to me when you didn't have to be. You and Lady Wellington immediately made me feel comfortable. And you know what the best part is?"

"I can't even fathom a guess," Frances replied dryly.

"That," she said, pointing her finger at Frances. "Your sense of humor. You make me feel like I don't have to give up the things I like, like reading, or change my entire personality just to be considered a member of society. I can be me… albeit a toned-down version for polite company, of course," she said with a laugh.

Frances relaxed into the chair. She rather liked Jenny, and she hoped she wasn't steering her in the wrong direction. The truth was her brother wasn't far off; this society was ruthless and not for the faint of heart. They could easily chew Jenny up and spit her out into their embroidered handkerchiefs without blinking an eye.

Jenny was tenacious and determined, two traits she would need to withstand the pressures she was willingly walking into. She has seen too many girls crumble under the weight the ballrooms put on women, and she would hate to see Jenny lose her luster because of it.

"I fear my father may disagree with you. He most certainly wished I was a bit more soft spoken when it counted, but unfortunately for him, I was born with curiosity and the ability to talk to anyone. Growing up, he considered me quite the hoyden; I was a bit too carefree and boisterous." A movement over Jenny's shoulder caught Frances's eye. Just outside the window, she saw the man, who had had free rein of her thoughts for days, turning to come up the stoop. He was home.

She brought her attention back to Jenny. "Although he really shouldn't be that surprised; I get my affinity for conversation from him."

Frances heard the main door open as Simmons welcomed the Duke home. Her pulse raced.

The door to the drawing room opened, and she took her last full breath of the day. Here we go.

He could tell she was here even before he saw her, before he heard her. She had occupied his every waking moment since she left the library four days ago. It was just his luck that sweet woodruff was planted just underneath the library window that was now stuck open, and the scent of sweet vanilla wafted in with the morning breeze. Her scent. He had every intention of ripping it out, but he always found something else to do with his time.

Walking through the foyer, he heard the gentle tones of the two women talking, a surprising change of pace from the last time he encountered the two of them together. Before their friendship started, he had hoped being around the ton would quell some of his sister's more spirited traits. However, there was nothing in his encounters with Miss Frances that suggested she was the one who would help with that.

No, not Frances Ambrose. She played the role of delicate and pristine societal darling, but under the ruse of gentle upbringing laid a hellion waiting for someone to come unleash her inhibitions. His hands balled into fists at his side. His body vibrated at the memory of her body pushed up against his. He knew she was innocent, that much was certain, but the way she leaned into him, her hands threading through his hair, gave him the impression there was more to her than the guise of modest maiden she showed to the world.

Which was exactly the reason why he remained so busy this week. He was not looking for trouble or a distraction, and Miss Frances was both of those to a tee. He walked into the foyer, hoping a quick greeting would suffice, but when she looked up at him from her chair, he found himself walking toward the chair across from her before he realized it.

She tilted her head and gave a slight smile. "Good afternoon, Your Grace."

"Good afternoon, Miss Frances. You look well."

He watched her eyes flash with surprise before settling into her usual aloof persona. There was something about how quick she was to hide behind the wall of propriety that made him want to tear it down.

"What is on the docket for today's lesson, sister?" His words were spoken to his sister, but his eyes remained on Frances.' His mind warred with his body. He was supposed to only pop in for a quick greeting, but the way her body challenged his was too good to pass up. It's been a while since he played the game. Usually, his tastes didn't require much chase, but he was curious to see how long she could keep the game up. Surely, she had to be affected by their dalliance, even more than he.

He'd heard some talk of her around the ballrooms. She hadn't been associated with anyone in particular with no prospects of note within the past several years. Most of the ton had written her off as a spinster which was a shame. If they stopped and really looked at her, they would see what a jewel stood before them. Even if he truly didn't trust her, she was beautiful by the ton's standards and well-spoken. A worthy opponent he could see himself taking pleasure in if the opportunity arose.

"We were just talking about what is expected of me at the upcoming ball." Jenny's voice was light and full of wonder. "I'm both excited and terrified. Although, with Frances' help, I'm no longer worried about tripping over my feet while I dance. Now, if only I learn not to trip over my tongue, I'll be fine."

Thomas couldn't help his grin. "Are you able to help my sister with the placement of her tongue, Miss Frances? We can't have her tripping over it." He knew he was pushing the boundaries of propriety, but his sister was lost in her own world of dance steps and ballgowns, so she wouldn't pick up on his innuendo. Miss Frances, on the other hand, turned a beautiful shade of pink. Come on, love. Take the bait.

Frances found her skirt oddly interesting at that moment. "It just so happens elocution lessons are a favorite of mine. I would be happy to help Jenny become more confident in her speaking patterns if she sees fit," she said as she smoothed out her skirt. "I can even help Your Grace if you need help with your elocution." Her eyes flickered up to meet his. There was a spark of defiance in them that heightened his senses.

There she is.

She showed no signs of embarrassment or hesitancy, the exact opposite of how she acted when he spilled the water. Instead, she sat there, head held high, waiting for his next move.

"Yes! If Frances is helping me adjust to the ton, she should definitely help you. I actually think you need it more than me."

"Ah, see that's where you're wrong, dear sister. Whereas you need a proper introduction into society, I get mine just by existing," Thomas explained with a smug smile. He didn't envy the women and their role in society. The thought of dressing up and being paraded around for others to weigh and measure one was depressing. He might have countless people counting on him while others tried to swindle him out of money and business, but he didn't have to prove himself worthy of romantic notions in order for him to have a home and security.

"Oh, men," Jenny huffed. "You have it so easy."

Thomas leaned back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other. His gaze was back on Frances'. He liked the way she followed his every move. He knew he intimidated women, most men, too, but she refused to cower to him. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by her. What would it take to make her succumb to him? Dangerous thoughts, better stick with the conversation at hand.

"That I cannot deny, dear sister. However, I feel I am a lost cause. I'm afraid the ton has already found me lacking and has branded me a brute."

"Nonsense," Frances claimed. "There is always hope, Your Grace. Even for a brute such as yourself. I think under all that bluff is someone who wants to do right by his sister, even it means engaging in a civil conversation with other people at a dinner party." She raised an eyebrow, effectively throwing down the next challenge.

"You think so, Miss Frances? You think you'd be up for the challenge of changing the set impressions of the ton for a man such as myself?"

"If anyone can do it, it's Frances." Jenny piped up from her chair in the corner. "And if she is going to help you, I suggest she start with your clothing and your dancing."

"What is wrong with my clothing?" His eyes darted between the two women who were now sharing a knowing smile. "What? My tailor said I looked dashing."

Jenny's laughing irritated him. "Your tailor? I'd hardly call Jimmy from the shop a tailor."

Frances raised her hands. "No need to bicker. Your Grace? I can help with both your dancing and your fashion."

Thomas shook his head. How did he go from toying with Miss Frances to becoming offended about what these women thought of his clothing?

"Wonderful," Jenny clapped her hands. "It's settled. Frances, you'll spend half your time with me and the other half trying to teach my brother not to step on people's toes, literally and figuratively." Jenny laughed at her own joke.

"Jenny?" Frances turned her attention to his sister. "All of this talk of dancing and ballrooms reminded me: weren't you going to show me the dress you bought for the ball? Why don't you go put it on, and we can practice dancing in it?"

Thomas grimaced; he was hoping to continue the banter he and Frances had going before his sister ruined it. But he had no desire to watch his sister parade around in her newest ballgown that most likely cost more than he'd care to know.

Jenny jumped up from her chair, "Oh yes! Wait here, I'll fetch Marie to help me put it on." His sister raced out of the room to track down her maid.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I guess I'll leave you to my sister."

"Actually, Your Grace, may I have a word with you?"

An odd feeling settled over him. Was she going to denounce their behavior in the library? She should. Hell, he should. The thought disappointed him more than he wanted to admit. However, knowing the society they both were a part of, he understood the need for her to reclaim some ground. Nonetheless, he was not looking forward to watching her build her walls back up.

"The floor is yours, Miss Frances." He crossed the room over to the bar cart and poured himself a snifter of brandy.

The air around her faltered for a second before a calm settled over her. "I have a proposition."

"A proposition?"

"Yes." Frances took a deep breath. "A lesson for a lesson. I help you, and in turn, your sister, with whatever you both need to feel prepared for the season, and you help me with…"

"With…?"

"With learning what it is to be a woman."

Thomas blinked. "I fear you have lost me, Miss Frances. How could I help you know what it is to be a woman?" He took a sip of his brandy, feeling he was missing a larger part of this conversation.

Frances stood, pink rising in her cheeks. She licked her lips and began nibbling on her bottom lip — a move that immediately had his mind reliving their time in the library.

"I was hoping, in exchange for my etiquette lessons, you would help me with lessons in…" Her hand gestured between the two of them while her head nodded in the direction of the library. She took a deep breath while Thomas took another sip.

"… how it is to be with a man," she finally rushed out.

Thomas spit out his drink. Well, that was not what I was expecting.

Frances stood stunned as the amber liquid ran down her cheeks onto her dress.

"You spit on me." She knew she sounded ridiculous, but honestly, this situation felt ridiculous. She never imagined herself propositioning anyone — let alone a cranky duke — to take her maidenhood, and she definitely had not foreseen one spitting his drink on her after she did so.

"You just asked me to sleep with you, but I barely know you." The Duke looked positively incredulous.

Whether it was nervousness or embarrassment, Frances fought a bubble of laughter. " That is your issue? Your Grace, I'm not asking you to throw me over the settee and…" Frances waved her hands in front of her face. She didn't even know how to finish her sentence without blushing. Maybe this was a mistake?

"Good God, woman, you can't even say the words. What makes you think you're of any mind to ask such a thing?" Finally regaining some sense of composure, the Duke handed Frances a napkin to wipe her face.

"I'm five and twenty, far past the age where most would consider me marriageable." Frances sniffed. "My prospects are looking grim, and I figured what better way to know what it's like than to just get it over with. To be honest, I never really expected to even kiss a man, and then the library happened." Frances shrugged. "It gave me an idea. I help you and your sister be welcomed into the ton, and you help me remove this burden hanging over me. Simple as that."

The Duke huffed out a laugh. "Simple as that. Nothing is as simple as that. " He narrowed his eyes. "Why me?"

"Why not you? I have something to offer you, and you have something to offer me." She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you ran a store. Surely you understand how a business deal works."

The Duke leveled his eyes on her. The intensity of his stare robbed her of the know-how to do the simplest, most natural act: breathe.

How does he do that to me?

Nonchalantly, he wiped his hands on a towel before folding it neatly and setting it down on the bar. His movements were smooth and calculated. Frances found herself once again mesmerized by his hands. His long fingers moved in such a precise way that her frantic mind settled. Her face tingled with the memory of how those fingers held her head when they kissed.

"Tell me, Frances… I'm assuming it's favorable I call you Frances since you just propositioned me to do a very personal act that would require us to be very familiar with each other." The Duke tilted his head to the side, keeping his focus on her.

She fought not to fidget, but his stare set off her fight-or-flight instincts. Only when it came to him, her body and her mind could never agree on which one she should be doing.

"Yes, of course. And I think it would only be fair I be allowed to call you by your Christian name." Frances' heart pounded so loudly, that she was sure he could hear it from where he stood. She just asked a duke to deflower her and if she could call him by his Christian name. There was no coming back from this.

The Duke continued his walk towards her as he considered her request. "Fair? Hmm. I guess it would be." The Duke reached her and slowly began to circle her. He was every bit a predator stalking his prey. "Are we just talking sex, or is there more to your conquest?" His whispered words tickled her ear and sent shocks of electricity down her spine.

"More?"

He stepped in closer, and she tensed when she felt his chest push against her back. Her head began to swim with lustful thoughts she never knew existed.

"Of course, there's more," he purred. "While I very much enjoyed our little tête-à-tête in the library, I think you would enjoy a lesson in kissing."

Frances dropped her head in embarrassment. That was her first kiss; of course, she came off like an inexperienced dolt.

The Duke tsked as he finished his circle and stood in front of her. "Now, now, Frances, I mean no harm in that observation. Didn't I just say I enjoyed it?"

Frances raised her eyes to meet his. Suddenly the weight of this conversation crashed down on her, causing her to rethink this whole plan. "I think I made a mistake." She moved to turn, but he grabbed her by the waist.

"Don't be rash. Let's think this through." His voice was soft, but instead of being reassuring, his voice conjured feelings of danger and insult.

"Are you making fun of me?" There was only so much embarrassment Frances could handle.

"On the contrary, Frances, I am very much intrigued by this. I just don't think this is what you want." He put up his hand to stop her interruption. "Let me clarify, I do not think I am who you want. I'm not known for my kindness, and girls like you need to be dealt with accordingly."

It was in her nature to rebuke his condescending words however she knew nothing about this topic. He clearly had the upper hand, and that was exactly why she needed him.

"Please. Don't make me beg."

"Ah. Begging." The Duke smiled devilishly. "Yes, that would be another lesson. One I would be very good at giving." The Duke reached out and ran one finger up her cheek and back down, tracing the pulsing vein in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut to let the sensation take over her body. She opened her eyes at his heavy exhale.

"No. You're too innocent. I cannot do it." The Duke took a step back, taking his divine finger with him.

Without thinking Frances grabbed his wrist to hold him in place.

"It has to be you. You won't tell a soul; you keep your business to yourself. There is no one else in society with that sort of loyalty. Others may see it as suspicious, but I see it as respectful. Please. Thomas. "

His breath shuttered at the sound of his name. "I —"

"Here I am!" Jenny burst through the parlor doors, twirling in a long, soft pink ball gown that accentuated her tanner skin to perfection. "I just love this color, don't you? And it's so light and breezy, I feel as though I'll just fly away."

Thomas and Frances jumped at her interruption, both dropping their hands to their sides.

"You look marvelous, Jenny." It took every ounce of willpower Frances had to look at Jenny and focus on the spinning girl.

"Well, I have things to see to, so if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you two ladies to your dresses." Thomas tugged at his cufflinks, adjusting his sleeves. He crossed the room without another look at her.

Frances felt tears prick in her eyes. He denied her. She had made a fool of herself in front of the duke, one whom she'd be seeing a lot because of her agreement with Jenny.

"Oh, and Frances? I look forward to our first meeting. It is at the tailor, is it not? You and Jenny said something about my wardrobe needing improvement?"

Frances only managed to nod her head in agreement before the door closed.

He used my Christian name.