Page 71 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“So, tell me about the duke. You say he appeared to have been fighting,” Agnes began, looking to Emma and nudging her to listen closely.

“He could only have been sparring. A number of gentlemen take their exercise far too seriously, whether it’s in boxing or fencing or footraces, that sort of this,” Emma reminded her.

“That’s true enough, I suppose. Two of my brothers have taken to brawling in the garden every time they disagree on anything. Rather than putting a stop to it, Father actually supervises and declares the victor when they’re done,” Agnes answered, rolling her eyes at the absurdities of men.

“Somehow, I don’t believe my husband was merely exercising,” Frances said, though she couldn’t very well explain that she’d overheard him discussing it.

“From the two appearances in social events and the little you’ve described of him, brawling in public doesn’t exactly seem to be his style, either,” Emma pointed out.

“Precisely, and that’s why we need to find this Bellingsworth and find out what’s going on.”

They each kept watch from their respect vantage points as they travelled throughout the city. Any sign of a carriage thatappeared to be similar to Sir Perry’s brought renewed interest and excitement, but after two hours of searching, they still had nothing to show for it. As all hope appeared to be lost, Sara tapped her mistress on the arm.

“Doesn’t that one look familiar?” she asked, nodding out her window. Frances looked to where the lady’s maid was watching.

“I don’t know… it might?” Frances replied. She kept looking at the empty conveyance as Emma instructed their driver to stop.

“Look there! Someone’s coming over to it,” Agnes said, straining to see over Emma’s shoulder.

“Yes, that’s him,” Frances said, sitting back so that she wouldn’t be seen. “You two watch him. Sir Perry knows what Sara and I look like.”

“I doubt he’d remember me after the walloping I gave him. His head would be too scrambled,” Sara muttered, though Frances detected a hint of pride.

“All of you remain here. If I should come to any harm, you must get help,” Frances said, turning the latch on the carriage door.

“Wait, Frances! Where are you going?” Agnes hissed as Emma called after her.

Frances ignored their pleas to return to the carriage. They couldn’t know how crucial this was, that Abigail’s and Anthony’sand even her own freedom and happiness could well depend on this man being uncovered.

As she slunk closer to his carriage, trying to look inconspicuous, Frances kept a close eye on Sir Perry. He was talking to another man, and by the looks of things, the other man felt precisely the same way Frances did about the baronet. It appeared as though Bellingsworth made a habit out of establishing enemies.

Frances slipped behind a passing carriage and ran alongside it on tiptoe, using it to conceal her approach. She followed suit with another and then another, effectively preventing Sir Perry from seeing her. When she’d managed to cross the street this way, she ducked behind a chimney sweep’s cart, leaning away from the sooty brushes that projected from the top. From her position, she could hear the two men arguing and almost make out what they were saying.

If I could only get a little closer, Frances thought as she moved along the wall of a nearby clerk’s office.

Suddenly, the was pulled backwards by someone who accosted her from behind. She half-stumbled into the office’s doorway and whirled around, staring directly up at Anthony.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, glancing over her shoulder as if trying to see who might have spotted them.

“I’m trying to learn more about this Sir Perry,” she confessed, working to keep her voice even.

“Why on earth? He is a dangerous man! Are you out doing his bidding?”

“I beg your pardon,” Frances argued.

“I’ve now seen you near him twice. What business do you have with him? Has he sent you to spy on me?”

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! How can he have possibly sent me when you are the one who sought me out and so boldly requested marriage? If anything, I should wonder if you’re not the one with suspicious motives,” she countered, her temper flaring under the accusations.

Anthony’s features softened slightly. He glanced around again, then back at Frances.

“My apologies. You’re right, of course. I only became enraged when I saw what peril you were putting yourself in. I wanted to believe the worst instead of thinking that you didn’t know how dangerous that man is.”

“Why is it that you have no ability to express an emotion unless it is anger?” Frances demanded, her own fury taking hold.

“I have much to be angry about,” he said simply, but he clenched his jaw and didn’t explain further. “In any event, Sir Perry is not someone to be trifled with. I don’t know what game you are envisioning, but I assure you, there is talk this this manhas murdered for mere amusement. Why are you even trying to observe him?”

Frances looked down. How could she explain it to Anthony without revealing that she suspected his secret?

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