Chapter 17

"What did you say?" Frances asked, her skin turning cold as fear crept over her.

"Sounds as though someone did like my kidnapping scheme after all," Emma muttered, but Agnes silenced her with another sharp elbow.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday. I came here, humbling myself and trying to make amends, in hopes that she was here. Or maybe you know where she could have gone?" Lady Hutchings asked, the hopeful kindness in her voice sounding surreal to Frances.

"It sounds as though Juliet has managed to escape your hateful plans, and therefore, it would be unthinkable for me to help you get her back. It is my understanding that you've arranged a marriage to Lord Rowland, and I won't lift a finger to help that come to pass. It is shameful how little regard you and my uncle for the young ladies in this family."

"Frances, I beg you! I'm sick to my stomach with worry!" her aunt cried, reaching out and grasping her hand.

"Luckily for her, I have no idea where she is," Frances countered, "though I would not help you even if I did know. It is my sincere hope that she is far away from here, somewhere where you and that horrid fiend cannot get to her."

Lady Hutchings began to cry once more, her tears having no effect on Frances. It was almost amusing to watch her aunt's grief, for she knew it was not for Juliet but rather for losing her control over a second girl.

"If I were to help you, though, there would be some conditions," Frances finally said, prompting the viscountess to look up at her. "First, Juliet will not marry this earl. I don't care if he were to throw himself at my feet and vow to treasure her like a rare jewel. Second, Juliet will be free to marry Thomas—"

"—if she hasn't already eloped with him to Gretna Green. After all, Scotland isn't too far a journey," Agnes said with a smirk.

"Anything! I swear it!" Lady Hutchings said, clasping Frances' hand once more and holding onto it.

"Furthermore, I will have that dowry. It shall be mine, and I will give it to Juliet to begin her own household with her husband. With those funds, he will be able to complete his studies and better his position."

Lady Hutchings was less quick to reply, less sure of herself. She stammered for a bit, then nodded.

"Agreed. It shall take some time, for I must speak to your uncle. But I will see to it that it happens, you have my word," she promised at last.

"There'll be no need of that once my solicitor speaks to him," someone called out from behind her.

Frances looked to the doorway and gasped. Anthony was standing there, watching the entire scene unfold. She had no way of knowing how he would react to seeing his wife lording her power over someone else, nor to her defending a wayward daughter whose reputation may well be in shambles.

"I have spoken with my solicitor," Anthony said stoically as he strode forward. "It seems there has been some deception about Her Grace's dowry, isn't that true?"

"I… I don't know what you mean," Lady Hutchings finally spat out. Frances knew that tone well enough to know the woman was lying.

"According to the contract I was given to peruse, Her Grace's father left a massive portion of his sizeable estate to her, to be overseen by her guardian… and then her husband."

Frances gasped once more. Her father had left her well-provided for. She wasn't an ungrateful orphan who was living off her uncle's generosity? But that meant…

"You stole my father's money," Frances said evenly, her attention once more directed to her aunt.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the viscountess said defensively.

"Aunt Bridget…" Frances practically snarled in warning.

"All right, fine! Yes, your father's estate is in our keeping," she confessed, looking ashamed.

"And this is why you wanted me to marry Lord Rowland. You promised him a willing young wife in exchange for retaining control of my father's funds."

"Yes. All right? We did, and we're horrible people for it. Is that what you wished to hear?" Lady Hutchings snapped, glancing at Anthony with discomfort.

"It's not even a fraction of what I wish to—" Frances growled, lunging forward before Agnes grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Lady Hutchings, I think it would be best if you left now," Emma urged her.

"But what of my daughter?" she moaned, looking around at the cluster of angry faces.

"When I see a contract with the conditions I've stated, then I will help you. Not a moment before!" Frances argued, still fuming.

"And when I have the full control of my wife's estate turned over to her, only then will I instruct my solicitor not to contact the court on her behalf," Anthony added, folding his arms and looking quite imposing.

Lady Hutchings went pale, but she nodded. With a quick curtsey to Frances and a much-humbled word of goodbye, the viscountess scurried out of the house. Agnes and Emma exchanged glances, then Agnes made her excuses as well.

"We shall call on you again soon," Agnes promised Frances as she kissed her cheek. "In the meantime, we will begin our efforts to find Juliet."

Frances thanked them and bid them goodbye, promising to speak to them soon. When they had gone, Frances turned to Anthony wordlessly and simply waited.

"You knew about my father's estate?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"And you did not say anything to me?" Frances struggled to keep the accusing tone out of her voice.

"I did not know how," Anthony confessed slowly. "When I learned that you'd never known about it, that your aunt and uncle had lied to you all these years, I… I was afraid of hurting you."

"Hurting me? By informing me that my parents had left me some funds? That they had cared enough to ensure that those funds were for my care? That's what you consider to be hurting me?"

"No, by forcing you to know that your only remaining family members had stolen from you all this time, and that they had intended to force you to marry someone who'd agreed to permit them to keep your money. When you did not marry Lord Rowland but agreed to marry me instead, they discovered that they would be cut off and have nothing to their names."

Frances' mouth fell open in shock, but she quickly remembered herself. Anthony had been trying to protect her all along, but he could not have known that she was already aware of her aunt and uncle's utter disregard for her. He'd been intent on sparing her feelings, though she had none left to save where they were concerned.

"I'm sorry I assumed the worst," Frances said, saddened by her first assumption. "That was very kind of you to think of my feelings, but I promise you, I am not unaware of what my aunt and uncle think of me."

"That is their loss, and I am certain that someday they will realize it," Anthony said, though the corners of his mouth turned up slightly when he said it.

Frances felt her cheeks blush at the compliment. It was hard to reconcile the cold, distant man who may very well be keeping a mistress in the house with this protective, kind one who'd appeared out of nowhere to stand for her against her aunt. It made her reluctant to believe anything malicious about him, but still, it left her wondering what she could know to be true.

"Have you any idea how much my father's estate was worth?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It is quite a considerable amount, though most of it was left to your cousin when he assumed your father's title. However, the caretaker of your portion of the estate appears to have invested those funds very wisely over the years. Your aunt and uncle only received an allowance that was supposed to provide for your care, though I cannot help but think they were keeping it for themselves."

"It would appear so, though they did send me away to school. Given that my only choice would have been to remain here with them, it was certainly the preferable option," she replied with a wry grin.

Anthony laughed again, that rare sound that made Frances' heart skip a beat. She wanted desperately to know more about Miss O'Reilly, fearful of getting her hopes up that there could be anything between the two of them without this specter of his mistress looming over them. However, for now, she did not wish to anger him, not when they were sharing such a caring moment together.

Too soon, the ever-familiar air of hesitation overcame Anthony once more. His mirth slowly faded, like the last rays of sun before the storm clouds devour them. He looked polite but reserved again as he bowed stiffly. Frances wanted more than anything to keep talking to him, to have a real conversation. Her mind raced in search of a topic.

"I was wondering something about the house," Frances said hopefully.

"Yes?"

She smiled nervously and gestured to the sofa, inviting him to sit. Several painfully peculiar seconds passed before he finally sat down. Frances joined him, keeping a comfortable distance between them.

"I'm sure you've noticed that there are some places where the house is in disrepair," she began slowly, watching him to see whether her statement insulted him.

"No, I hadn't noticed," he answered, sounding dully honest but unbothered.

"Oh. Well, it's probably just things that an outsider might notice, for you've lived here for such a long time. I was wondering—hoping, really—whether I might oversee some of the repairs. I would start only with the most necessary things, of course, and it would provide me with something to do, a sense of purpose here. And if you were pleased with the results, we could consider some things that would simply make this lovely house even more beautiful." Frances paused, then worried that Anthony was displeased with the suggestion. "And now that I'm to have my father's funds, I would gladly pay for them so much as I can afford!"

"Absolutely not. It's out of the question," Anthony stated, though he didn't seem too upset.

"Oh. I see," Frances said quietly, looking down and finding that there was nothing more to say.

"I think you are unhappy. I'm sorry," Anthony said, slowly. "I didn't mean that you could not do this. I only meant that you mustn't spend your father's money. That man had never even heard of me, and I will not take his funds when he intended those to be yours."

"I truly don't mind. After all, you did say it is our home now," she offered softly.

Anthony started to reply, but he stopped, looking as though his words were still tumbling around in his mind. Frances waited patiently, not interfering as he was trying to figure out how to speak them.

"I will think about this, I promise. In the meantime, write out a list of what needs to be done, and what other things you simply wish to do, and I will consider all of it."

Frances smiled gratefully. It might not be the most straightforward answer, but she got the feeling that her husband had just conceded to something that was terribly difficult for him. As if reading her mind, he looked away and spoke again.

"I don't always know the right way to say what I'm thinking. I can only ask that you are patient with me when I'm wrong and understanding when I'm uncertain."

"That is such a small request," Frances assured him sweetly.

Anthony looked relieved, though the sentiment seemed brief. "I want you to be happy here."

"I am happy."

No sooner had Frances spoken than she realized that her words had come forth as if by instinct rather than heartfelt feeling. She couldn't help but feel as though she was fibbing a little, that perhaps she wasn't as happy as she could be—or that she should be. After all, she'd avoided both a terrible marriage and a life of misery with her aunt and uncle. Her doubts about Anthony were upsetting, to say the least, but they were nothing that so many other gentlemen hadn't done. So, why did she feel so out of sorts?

"Good," he managed to say, interrupting her thoughts.

"But before I begin thinking about the house," Frances replied, shaking off her own selfish worries to ponder her cousin's plight, "I wonder if you might have any help to offer concerning my cousin."

Anthony looked confused, so Frances recounted the heartbreaking tale of Juliet's love for Thomas. He kept silent as she spoke, nodding thoughtfully on occasion. Finally, Frances finished and waited for him to say something, but he seemed to be pondering it deeply.

"Do you have anything to suggest? Any notion of where I might begin searching?" she asked at last.

"I fear I wouldn't know. It's not really something I'm familiar with, I'm afraid. But I will be happy to inquire of anyone if you can direct me what to ask."

"Thank you. As soon as I know more, I'll do that," she said, beaming.

Anthony only nodded in reply and left the room.