Chapter 6

Despite Frances' protests, Juliet was determined to remain close to her side for the rest of the evening. Even though their feelings toward each other were still tentative, she did have to admit it was nice to have her younger cousin to stand with her and keep her from feeling so out of place. When Emma or Agnes would stop by to chat with them between dances, it made the entire party seem even more lively.

There was only one thing that kept the ball from being positively enjoyable, even in spite of all of the unexpected conditions surrounding the evening.

The Duke of Preston.

To Frances' dismay, he was in attendance as well. On its own, that wouldn't be such a terrible thing. But the fact that he did not dance nor speak with anyone was unnerving. It was made worse by the knowledge that he was watching her, staring at her openly at times. Frances tried to tell herself it was only her imagination, or that perhaps he was actually enthralled with the painting on the wall behind her. Perhaps he was hypnotized by the flickering candlelight from a sconce just over her shoulder, reduced to a trance that he couldn't awaken from.

"Why is that man staring at you?" Juliet whispered, crushing Frances' hope.

"I don't know who you're referring to," Frances said, looking around the room.

"That man," Juliet said, raising her hand to point before Frances pushed it back down roughly.

"It's not polite to point."

"Then how will you know who I mean?"

"It's probably for the best that I don't know. Besides, I'm certain no one is staring, for that would be rude."

"But he is! I can see him quite plainly. Watch, I shall wave to him, and when he returns my wave you will know—"

"Do not!" Frances hissed, pushing Juliet's arm down once more. "Fine, I know who you're referring to. I've seen him quite well myself. I'm just pretending to ignore him, as should you."

"But he's so handsome! How can any young lady possibly ignore someone with such dashing good looks? Though I must say, he does look very much like he might devour someone. He's so cross looking!"

"Juliet, please. Shouldn't you be dancing?" Frances asked, sighing with exasperation.

"No. I don't want to dance with any of these men."

"Then perhaps you should run along to the garden and see if Thomas is still waiting for you."

"Really?" Juliet asked, her eyes bright.

"No, not really. I'm sorry, I was only being facetious. The fact of the matter is I have no wish to look at that man. There's something unusual about him that I don't like."

"Wait a moment… isn't he the one who came to the house the other day? The one Mother got all in a tizzy about?"

"Perhaps they look somewhat similar. I really can't tell from across the room," Frances said, looking around and hoping to see Agnes or Emma coming to her rescue.

"Oh. Well, you'll get a better look at him soon enough. He's coming over this way," Juliet said, raising her hand to point again but remembering and putting it down.

"What?" Frances demanded, looking directly at him without thinking.

To be certain, the Duke of Preston was walking towards them, his gaze still fixed on her. The thought of a man with such unbelievably handsome features moving closer, unable to take his eyes off her, should have sent thrills of delight flooding through her limbs. Instead, recalling their two previous encounters, Frances wished for nothing more than a sudden accident to end the party at once.

"Miss Turner," the duke said, bowing. He paid no heed to Juliet standing very close to Frances' elbow, smiling as though she'd just discovered some sort of prize. "Would you be willing to dance?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Grace. I am not dancing this evening, but rather tending to my cousin. May I introduce Miss Juliet Walford, daughter of the Viscount of Hutchings?"

The duke only nodded in Juliet's direction, his eyes still fixed on Frances.

"I don't understand. You've come to a ball, but do not intend to dance?"

"That's correct. As I said, I am only here to attend to my cousin."

"Your cousin appears to be in very good health and quite capable of standing unassisted. Does she require some sort of aid?" the duke pressed.

Frances finally turned to look at him, frowning when she saw that his expression was quite sincere.

"I am trying to be polite, Your Grace. I do not wish to dance."

"With me, you mean."

"No, with anyone. I am not dancing this evening."

"Would it not have saved you some trouble to simply remain at home if you did not wish to take part?" he asked, cocking his head slightly as though actually trying to decipher her meaning.

"Oh, good grief. This is not going to end, I'm afraid," Frances said to Juliet. "You are to stand right here and not move from this spot. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Frances," Juliet said with a knowing smile. Frances only shook her head in defeat.

"Come on, Your Grace. Let us dance and be done with it."

With one last warning glance over her shoulder, Frances followed the duke to an open place among the other couples. She caught sight of Agnes as she passed and jerked her head slightly to communicate her need for someone to watch Juliet. Once Agnes was at her cousin's side, Frances turned to the duke and curtseyed quickly.

Her hopes for a quick and silent few minutes were dashed almost at once.

"Miss Turner, I was determined to dance with you again so that we might continue our conversation," the duke began straight away.

"There is no need, Your Grace. We've said all there is to say on the topic."

"But I am still not understanding why you are opposed to marriage."

"I'm not opposed to the institution," Frances began, but found that she had nothing else to say that wouldn't seem insulting.

"Only that you have no wish to marry me," he continued for her.

"You make it sound very personal, Your Grace, when that is not my intention," she answered, trying to find the right words.

"Then what is your intention in refusing?"

"Your Grace, must we discuss it? Is it not sufficient that I do not wish to marry you?" she asked, finally looking up at him.

Something shifted from the moment she glanced at him. Where he'd been solid in his expression and unmoving in his countenance, from the moment Frances looked at his deep brown eyes, there was a sudden crack in the stoic fa?ade he wore. It was like watching the snow melt beneath the sun's rays.

"I don't understand," he finally said softly.

Frances tore her eyes from his face and looked around. How could she explain when he seemed to be truly lost at her refusal?

"This is simply not how it's done," she finally managed to say. "A man does not propose marriage to a woman he met only hours before and has spoken less than a dozen words to. It is actually somewhat scary that you are so fixated on the topic."

"But why is that? All through history, marriages have been signed into existence by letters sent across vast lands. People have long married strangers, only to lay eyes on them for the first time at their wedding feasts. Is it so odd that I would see the most beautiful woman I've ever encountered, ask her to dance, find that she is well-spoken and caring, then seek to marry her?"

Frances tried to stammer an answer, but she soon found that her words were evading her.

"Still, it is improper to propose marriage the way you did," she finally managed to say. "I was quite frightened by you, in fact."

The duke startled, leaning back to look at her with another of his quizzical expressions. He seemed so concerned that Frances almost wished she hadn't said anything.

"That was not my intention. I did not know you would take offense or feel threatened. I apologize for that."

"Thank you," Frances said quietly.

"I still wish you to consider my offer, however. Whether it is proper of me to ask or not, I wish to marry you."

This again? Will he never stop?Frances wondered desperately.

"But you haven't told me why?"

"Just as you haven't told me why you won't. Rules of decorum are not a sound reason to reject someone who can provide you with all that you require."

She was spared having to answer when the song stopped and the couples ceased their dancing. Everyone applauded politely and went in their separate directions. Frances turned to thank the duke for the dance and give her reasons, but he was already gone.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you," Agnes said, catching Frances by the elbow and whirling her around. Beside her, Emma waited anxiously. "Was that the Duke of Preston you told Emma about?"

"Yes," Frances answered absently as she looked around for Juliet. Spying the girl still standing precisely where she'd left her, Frances breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up on her toes and waved for Juliet to come over. "Quick, one of you find a gentleman to dance with my cousin. Her mother will be furious if I cannot honestly tell her that she danced."

"My brother will do perfectly," Agnes said. "I'll hurry and fetch him."

"Her brother is perfect, as a matter of fact. The oldest son of a duke! If he wasn't far too young for me, I'd be happy to set my sights on him myself!" Emma said with a laugh.

By the time Juliet worked her way through the crowd of guests, Agnes had returned with her brother in tow. Seeing them side by side caused Frances' heart to go still for a moment. They were mirror images of siblings with blond curls and wide blue eyes. Their regal noses were identical, situated above the same bow-shaped mouth. If not for the slight difference in their ages, they could have been mistaken for twins, thus undoing any credibility to the story that Agnes had been taken in as an orphaned babe.

"Miss Walford, may I have the next dance?" the young man said when his sister elbowed him sharply. His smile was almost too eager.

Juliet looked to Frances as though she might protest, but Frances only arched an eyebrow in warning and shook her head faintly. The girl returned his query with a polite curtsey and walked back toward the dance floor, leaving the young man to practically scurry after her.

"They are too cute together," Agnes said in a dreamy voice, but Frances scowled.

"Don't get any ideas. I know Juliet's mind on certain matters, and it would not do your brother well to get his hopes up," Frances warned.

As the last notes of the song played out, Frances waited for Juliet to reach her once more. She smiled at her cousin, then turned to her friends to say her goodbyes.

"I think Miss Walford and I have both had our fill of merriment this evening. We shall bid you both a good night. I hope you'll come to call on me soon?" she asked, nodding to her cousin.

"Certainly! Why don't you both join me for tea tomorrow? Emma, will you come?"

Juliet looked to Frances expectantly. "Me?"

"Of course, if you wish to attend, that is," Frances answered.

"I would love to!"

Frances smiled at her excitement, seeing an entirely different personality to this once-familiar girl. They said their goodbyes and promised to talk again at tea, then hurried outside to their waiting carriage.

"Why are you fretting so? I've already made you a promise, I will not reveal your secret. Though I do think you should tell your parents yourself—and soon," Frances said as they neared their house.

"I don't know. It just feels like I've had this secret for so long and it was fine when I was keeping it to myself. But now that someone else knows, everything just seems different. I feel as though I've painted the words across my face for all the world to see."

"It's only because it was unexpected. But do you truly think your parents would not understand? From what you've told me, this Thomas seems to be quite an admirable young man."

"Father might only wonder if he would still have hand over my dowry. Mother, on the other hand, would never hear of it. She is determined that I marry well and make her proud. But Frances, that's not what I want. I have no wish to be some lady of society, hosting fancy parties and being seen by everyone when I attend the opera. I want… to be happy."

Frances frowned, commiserating with her. For one so young, she certainly seemed to have her thoughts in order. Not many young ladies in her position were so preoccupied with finding a husband with reasonable ambition and a desire to better himself. It made Frances sad to see Juliet enduring so much longing when she knew it would likely come to naught.

As Frances had predicted, Lady Hutchings was waiting for them at the door.

"I want to know everything. Who did you dance with? Who did you see? Who else was there? Tell me at once!" she insisted, taking her daughter by the arm and leading her towards the stairs. Juliet glanced back at Frances gratefully, and Frances gave her a knowing look.

I knew what the very first question would be… and luckily, she has an answer!Frances thought as she slowly made her way up the stairs to her room.