Page 3 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“Understood. It’s not as though I had anywhere else I could go, I’m afraid,” Frances answered, trying to sound apologetic but failing.

“Well, let’s hope you have a successful Season, and there will be no cause to linger. Why, with your beauty, I should think you won’t even need to unpack your things!” Lady Hutchings said, laughing at her own joke.

“Of course! Then again, it’s not as though I own very much. I’m sure it will only take a minute or two to have my things put to rights. Speaking of which, I was hoping that there was a little bit of money left from my father’s estate to purchase a few things for the Season. After all, I would love nothing more than to marry a decent gentleman and stop being a burden to all of you.”

Frances watched her aunt narrow her eyes, but she held firm in her pleasant stare. She knew the viscountess was waging war with her own thoughts at the moment—should she give Frances a few pounds to be properly appointed, or should she risk Frances not making a match this year and having to stay on with them? She would have laughed out loud at her aunt’s conundrum if she dared.

“I see. Well, I shall have to speak to Lord Hutchings about that,” the woman answered primly. “We’ve already purchased quite a few things for our Juliet, but perhaps there is a little money to spare.”

“My father’s money, you mean,” Frances said, pretending to sound helpful.

“Of course, that’s what I mean.”

Frances startled at her aunt’s abrupt retort.

“And I would never wish to mislead any gentlemen this Season and cause them to be put out with Uncle Josias,” Frances continued, “so I should speak to him about my dowry as well. I wouldn’t want any worthy men to be disappointed to discover too late just how meager it might be.”

“Your dowry? My dear girl, there is nothing for a dowry,” Lady Hutchings exclaimed with an incredulous laugh. “Your father didn’t leave you much at all, and what little he did provide went for your care and keeping all these years. Why, we had to pay to educate you ourselves, and I do hope you are duly grateful for that.”

“Of course,” Frances answered, looking down and feeling the sting of her aunt’s words. “Though I do wonder why my cousin didn’t attend school with me.”

“My Juliet? At some finishing school in the north country? Don’t be ridiculous. She was educated properly at home with her governess. Speaking of which, the entire purpose of sending a girl to a quality school is so that she can seek her employment should marriage not be in the stars for her.”

“Me? To become a governess? I hadn’t thought of it, but the notion isn’t entirely depressing.”

“Good. Then you might wish to consider that as an option this Season as well. If you do not secure a suitable match, you can always seek a position… elsewhere.”

“I understand,” Frances said slowly, reading her aunt’s meaning all too well.

“Good. See that you remember it, and that you keep in mind to be grateful to your uncle and me at all times,” Lady Hutchings snapped before whirling towards the door in a flurry of rustling skirts, leaving Frances alone.

If that’s how she wishes for things to be between us…Frances thought angrily, but she knew it would do her no good to get on her guardian’s bad side. She took a deep breath and looked around the unfamiliar drawing room, then went in search of her new room.

It took several flights of the staircase and more than a few wrong turns before Frances arrived at her room. As she’d suspected, her door was situated directly beside the entrance to the attic, the place where she and her cousin used to play when they were hiding from Juliet’s governess. Frances remembered the rickety stairs all too well, and as she feared, her new room was as drafty as that stairway had been.

She turned the knob and gave the door a tug, but nothing happened. She peered down and knew that it wasn’t locked, but the door was wedged tightly in its frame.

“My apologies, miss!” a girl called out behind her. “I just came up and brought ya a washstand and pitcher, and I must ‘ave closed it a mite too ‘ard.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Frances said with a warm smile, but the girl cocked her head to the side and stared at her.

“Ya don’t remember me, do ya?”

Frances looked horrified at having forgotten. “Is that you Sara? How can you possibly be all grown up and so beautiful? Was I truly gone as long as all that?”

The maid laughed with delight. “Aw, go on with ya. Yer only flatterin’ me!”

“Not at all!”

Sara blushed at Frances’ compliment, but quickly shook her head and stood up taller.

“I’m a housemaid now that my mum has quit service to care for my da. I’m hopin’ one day to work up, ya know? I don’ think I’ll ever be good enough to be a cook or a housekeeper, but I could maybe be a lady’s maid, ya know? Maybe some old woman’s companion to keep her company when her man is passed away?”

“I think that’s a fine intention. I know I’d be glad to have you as my lady’s maid, especially as my aunt and uncle will surely not be appointing anyone to help me.”

“Naw, I don’ know enough about it yet. I’m only just learnin’. But wait! What if I was to learn by helpin’ you?” she asked, her excitement contagious.

“Sara, that’s a perfect idea! You could start now as my lady’s maid, for you know I could never be cross with you. But I cannot ask that of you. It would be unfair to you as I cannot pay you any wages for the extra work.”

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