Chapter 16

"What did you say?" Frances whispered, falling into a nearby chair.

"Your aunt and uncle learned of this young man she's in love with," Agnes said, reaching into her reticule and withdrawing a folded paper. She passed it to Frances to read for herself.

Frances took the page and turned it around, opening it and scanning the tear-stained paper. Juliet's torment as she begged Agnes to seek out Frances and tell her the awful news gripped at her heart, threatening to rend it in two.

"This cannot be," Frances whispered, clutching the letter to her chest and sobbing quietly. "That horrible man! Married to my little cousin?"

Agnes let out a fresh wail of agony while Emma clung to her arm, distraught.

"How did they even learn of—wait a moment, Juliet isn't…"

Frances stopped, refusing to even utter the words. Agnes and Emma waited expectantly, as though wondering what she could possibly be referring to. When Frances smirked and cocked her head slightly, giving them a silent but poignant glare, both ladies gasped in surprise.

"No! Nothing like that. She's not ruined," Agnes assured her, keeping her voice down.

"This young man she loves actually came to the house to confess his adoration of her and seek her hand in marriage!" Emma said in earnest. "It would be so completely romantic if the ending had not turned into tragedy!"

"But if she's not been compromised, why on earth would she have to marry that horrible Lord Rowland?" Frances demanded.

"Apparently, your aunt and uncle fear that Juliet might do something unthinkable. They've arranged the entire thing to take place according to the earl's license. The banns have already been posted!"

"What should we do? We must help her!" Agnes cried. "From what you've told us of this wretched beast of a man, her life will be utter misery."

"What can we do?" Emma asked, resting her head on Agnes' shoulder as though she hadn't the strength to sit up.

"I know precisely what we can do," Frances said, a steely look in her eye. "My aunt and uncle may have contrived to be rid of me through this brute, but Juliet will be spared that fate too!"

"But how will you prevent it?" Agnes asked, brightening somewhat at Frances' determined announcement.

"I don't know. But I am now a duchess, after all, and that should matter for something."

"We could resort to kidnapping her," Emma suggested lightly. "No one will ever think to look for her here if she's been nabbed by scoundrels."

Frances looked at her for a moment as though trying to decide if she was serious. Unfortunately, she seemed to be.

"I don't think that will work, for she will have to reappear sometime. Then what will she tell people? ‘Oh, I was taken away against my will, but I never saw their faces and they just decided to release me unharmed?' I'm not sure it's very believable."

"Oh. I didn't think it would work very well," she confessed, sounding dejected.

"But it was still a very thoughtful effort on your part," Agnes assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"We must think of something. We have three weeks," Frances said. "I shall try to discover all I can, but we must come up with a solution soon."

Agnes and Emma nodded, and for several minutes, their talk was subdued as they thought of the poor girl they'd only just befriended. Frances couldn't help but shudder at the memory of the boorish earl and his lecherous ways. If that was how he conducted himself when first meeting a young lady, she couldn't let herself imagine how he behaved when that young lady was sworn to him for all time.

"But let's think of happier things now," Agnes suddenly said, putting away her handkerchief and forcing a smile. "Tell us what's happening with you, Fran."

Frances smiled. What could she possibly say? Her husband was a very kind and even tender person who had absolutely no desire to converse or spend time together? The most devastatingly handsome man in the world was not only her husband, but still practically a stranger to her?

"Everything is wonderful," she finally said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Liar," Emma mumbled, but Agnes shushed her with a jab of her elbow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Frances, we've been your best friends for years now. We've shared a room at school all this time. We can simply tell when you are unhappy. You can be truthful with us, and you know that we will never divulge anything you tell us in confidence. So, what is it?" Agnes pressed.

"How can you possibly know me better than I know myself?" she asked her friends sadly, reaching and taking their hands. "In truth, I'm not happy, though I feel that in time I will grow to think of Cadmoor House as my home. It's only that everything feels so out of sorts."

"In what way?" Emma demanded, clearly concerned.

"It's nothing dreadful, just small things really. Can you imagine a house of this size having only three servants? And one of those servants is a nurse, but for whom? The duke, or the butler or housekeeper?" Frances nodded when Agnes and Emma looked perplexed.

"You don't think that—" Agnes began, but she stopped when it was Emma this time who jabbed her in the side.

"Think what?" Frances demanded, narrowing her eyes.

Emma and Agnes exchanged a look, but Emma only shrugged. Agnes leaned closer and asked, "Could this nurse be the duke's… ladybird?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know… his kept woman," Agnes whispered.

Frances was horrified. She shook her head, but she did not reply right away as her mind began churning. Surely, Anthony would never be so callous as to keep another woman in the very house and expect Frances to see her every day! The reverse was true as well, for no gentleman would force the woman he did love to share the house with his rightful wife and the mother of his heirs. Why, the rumors that would circulate among the ton—that she was so unworthy that her husband's mistress lived under the same roof!—would be unthinkable.

"I refuse to believe it," she finally said quietly, folding her hands in her lap and looking thoughtful. "He may be somewhat unusual, but I cannot believe he is cruel as well."

"Perhaps he has had no need to move her out to a townhouse until now, and intends to do so very soon," Emma suggested as gently as she could.

The more they spoke, the more her friends' concerns began to make sense. Who would possibly need a nurse in a household of only one man? And why had Miss O'Reilly whisked away the mistaken parcels which happened to contain ladies' garments, and beautiful ones at that? Of course, Frances had noted the way this "nurse" had ordered Mrs. Barrett about, even demanding that the housekeeper come help her at once. Mrs. Barrett had been all too eager to oblige, for some reason.

"I think I might be ill," Frances whispered, pressing a hand to her middle as though she could stop the ominous churning in her stomach. "First, this terrible news about poor Juliet, and now this? Is there anything else this awful day wishes to heap upon me?"

As if by some fantastical force of doom, Mr. Vickers appeared in the doorway.

"Your Grace," he announced formally, "your aunt, Lady Hutchings, has come to call."

Frances closed her eyes and let her shoulders sag in defeat.

"I never should have said anything," she muttered before sitting up straighter and looking at her friends. "Please don't leave me."

"Never," Agnes whispered as Frances turned to the butler.

"Thank you, Vickers. I will receive her," Frances said loudly, hoping her aunt was eavesdropping at the door.

The butler bowed and stepped back to permit Lady Hutchings to enter. Frances noticed right away that the woman's gaze drifted all around the room as if appraising the value of its contents. Frances stood up, squared her shoulders, and folded her hands serenely in front of her as she held her head high. Behind her, Agnes and Emma followed suit, flanking her like a pair of ladies-in-waiting.

Lady Hutchings strode forward but stopped when her attention finally drifted to Frances. She appeared to be taken aback by the younger woman's newfound sense of importance. She opened her mouth to say something then paused, gritting her teeth bitterly as she curtseyed to the duchess.

"Your Grace," Lady Hutchings said, her jaw clenched.

"Lady Hutchings," Frances stated simply. "To what do I owe this visit while I am still on my honeymoon?"

Her aunt didn't ignore the slight. Instead, her grimace turned into something of a leer that was trying to pass itself off as a smile.

"I have simply come to see how you're getting along," she began in a rather high-pitched voice. "And to tell you that I've arranged to have your belongings packed up and brought over. They're here with me now."

"Oh? So, my uncle has relented on stealing them from me?" she asked, enjoying the flash of disdain that passed over the viscountess' face. "Or has he forgiven me for rejecting his pig of a friend?"

Lady Hutchings' pinched smile appeared fixed in place with some sort of glue. She nodded slightly.

"Something like that," she finally said, simpering slightly as she fought to keep the anger out of her tone.

"Good. I shall have Vickers bring them upstairs. Or I could possibly wait for one of our new servants to carry them up. They will be here later today. You may leave the things in the foyer until then."

Frances knew that her aunt would surely have learned about the servants' new positions and be furious, and she wasn't disappointed. Of course, the faint air of dismissal in her tone kept Lady Hutchings from being able to say much more. The older woman glanced between Agnes and Emma, then came closer.

"I was hoping I could speak to you briefly about a private family matter," she began slowly, clearly hinting at Frances' friends.

"Whose family would that be?" Frances challenged, her features calm though her insides ached with her own hurt feelings.

Lady Hutchings only smiled again. "I see."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you come here for a favor from your beloved niece? The one you've disregarded and tormented for so long? That one?"

Frances had to admit that she enjoyed the tiny surge of satisfaction at seeing Lady Hutchings reduced to asking for her help. This day had been a long time coming, and it had almost been stolen from her by this very woman's actions.

"Please, my dear," Lady Hutchings whispered in a voice that Frances had never heard before. Genuine tears seemed to glisten in the viscountess' eyes. "It's… it's about my daughter."

"Oh yes, how is cousin Juliet?" Frances asked lightly, letting her words wound this hateful woman even more. "Is she as overjoyed as I was at the news that she is to become the Countess of Rowland?"

Lady Hutchings went pale. Frances smirked in return, realizing that her aunt had no idea she would even know about the marriage contract.

"How did you…" Lady Hutchings began, her earlier grief turning to rage. "You did it! I know you did! It's just the sort of thing you would do!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent. You've always been a scheming brat, always ungrateful to us! Always looking out only for yourself!" the viscountess screamed. Behind her, both Mr. Vickers and Mrs. Barrett approached as though intent on assisting Frances. She shook her head at them and smiled to ease their worry.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lady Hutchings, but I am enjoying your tirade. Do please continue telling me what a horrible person I am," Frances said lightly.

"To think that I came here to give you your things and to bring you your dowry!" the viscountess cried, now reduced to weeping into her hands.

"Oh, so I did have a dowry after all? My husband shall be very glad to hear of that, as will the magistrate when I inform him," Frances added in a falsely cheerful voice.

"My father will be quite happy to file a grievance with the court on your behalf if you wish, Your Grace," Agnes added.

"Thank you, Lady Agnes. That might be necessary, I'm afraid."

"No! Do not!" Lady Hutchings cried out, lifting her face and staring at Frances with a wild look. Frances was taken aback by the woman's sudden snarl, but she managed to conceal it.

"I'm afraid I don't have much time left to visit, Lady Hutchings. Didn't you say you needed something?"

The viscountess swiped at her eyes quickly with her hands then tried to regain her composure. It proved to be a useless effort as silent tears dripped down her weathered cheeks.

"Juliet is missing. I need your help to find her. Please, Frances! I will do anything, I swear it."