Page 26 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“On no, my lady. Nothing of the sort. Just making certain you are pleased with your decision. You are pleased, aren’t you?”

“I am. It might not have seemed like I had much choice, but I’m very happy to accept his offer.”

“Then ya might want to go a-fore he changes his mind!” Sara teased, and Frances hurried to the front door.

There, the Duke of Preston stood waiting for her. His simple day suit was ideal and did not overshadow her own plain garment. Frances smiled to herself at the stroke of luck.

Of course he wouldn’t dress in an overly showy way, she thought as she approached. His approving look made her glad that she was wearing her most serviceable but flattering gown.

“Good day to you, Miss Turner,” the duke said, bowing stiffly.

“And to you, Your Grace,” she answered, curtseying.

A sudden flash of disappointment crossed the duke’s face, and though it was fleeting, Frances took notice of it. Had she done something wrong?

“I hope Your Grace isn’t bothered by something? I mean, I know the weather is foul, but do you think it looks to be clearing up a little?” she asked, hinting at his change in emotions.

“I am bothered, actually. I don’t know the proper way of doing these things, but… does it not seem odd for us to call each other by such formal address?”

“Are you saying we should simply be Frances and Anthony?” she asked.

“Your name is Frances?” he asked, cocking his head slightly and looking at her warily. Before she could reply, he laughed, a warm, quiet sound that drew her nearer. “I am only teasing. I did know your name, for I had to put it down for the license.”

“That’s good news. I wish that I could say the same, for I had to discover your name when my dear friend sought information on you to bring back to me. Thankfully, her father was aware of you and could inform the rest of us.”

To Frances’ great surprise, the duke actually seemed amused. He inclined his head in a slight bow before looking back at her with a sort of warmth that seemed uncommon for him.

“Shall we go… Frances?” he asked softly.

“Certainly,” she answered, trying to keep from sounding wistful.

This is not at all how I envisioned my wedding day, she thought as Mr. Robbins held the door for her and whispered a heartfelt goodbye. A footman had gone ahead of them and stood beside the duke’s carriage, bowing as they approached then opening the door to let Frances in.I would have thought my ownfamily would at least be standing around me, wishing me well and sending their love and congratulations. Instead, I feel as though I’m sneaking out of the house like a thief who’s come to pilfer everything.

As if that very thought had come true, when the carriage turned the corner of the house, Sara hurried forward and waved the driver down. Frances opened the door and thanked the maid profusely as she took a small burlap-wrapped parcel from her.

“What was that all about? Some sort of wedding gift?” the duke asked as they continued on.

“A gift of sorts,” Frances answered, trying not to divulge too much of the Hutchings’ cruelty.

After a moment passed, the duke looked down at it once more.

“Well, go on. Open it. It should be a lovely token.”

Frances smiled awkwardly, but then untied the twine that had been wound around it. She turned the parcel over and over to avoid spilling the contents, for she knew already what it contained. Sure enough, there was her father’s watch and her mother’s ring, which Frances slipped on her finger. She felt a tug of wistfulness when she noted some other trinkets tucked among her other special belongings, all of them provided by the staff.

“That seems like a rather odd gift, does it not? I fear I don’t know much about these matters,” the duke said.

“It’s somewhat unusual, to be sure. But they were my only family, after all,” Frances said, picking up each item and trying to discern precisely who must have given it to her.

By the time they reached the church, Frances’ nerves had been soothed. Looking down at these things, she knew that this marriage might not be the most conventional or the one she would have sought for herself under different circumstances, but her mind was at ease. The duke might be an unusual man with strange ways about him, but he was without a doubt the better choice.

“There she is!” someone called out happily when Frances stepped down from the carriage in front of the church.

“Emma? Oh, and Agnes! What are you doing here? I hope you haven’t waited all morning in the rain,” she cried, embracing her friends. Frances looked over their shoulders and found Juliet pressed into the doorway, a simple woolen cloak concealing her. “And Juliet? How did you manage to get here?”

“Mother and Father don’t know I’ve gone. I’m sure I cannot stay for the ceremony nor go to Lady Agnes’ luncheon, but I wanted to see you off. I just wanted to tell you—thank you so much for everything, and I shall miss you dearly!” the girl said before dissolving in tears. “I feel as though I’ve only just now met you, and you’re already leaving me.”

“Silly, I will be living right here in London!” Frances protested happily as she hugged her cousin goodbye, though she realized she was entirely certain where the duke’s residence was. Did heeven remain in London all year, or did he return to his estate after summer was over?Those are concerns for another time, she thought.

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