“Of course,” Lady Hutchings said in a clipped tone, as though trying to sound pleasant. “How do you do, Mr. Bailey?”

“I’m very well, thank you, my lady,” he answered, stumbling over his words.

So, this is how a poor fox looks when the hounds are coming near, Frances thought, scrambling to make the entire meeting more heartwarming. She looked around the drawing room and instantly thought it to be too stiff, too uninviting.

“Why do we not go to the terrace? We can take our tea there,” she suggested brightly.

Her guests begrudgingly made their way outdoors. Lord Hutchings fell into a chair almost at once, leaning back and resting his elbow on its arm. Lady Hutchings made an effort at having a pleasant visit, though, by walking straight over to the balustrade overlooking the gardens.

“Why, Your Grace! I see you’re already at work on improving the property. That’s wonderful to see,” she said, smiling for Frances’ benefit.

“Yes, we’ve managed to hire an excellent gardener. I believe you are familiar with his work,” Frances replied, unable to resist making mention of Mr. Jeffers’ presence.

Lady Hutchings looked confused, but then glanced again at the gardener who was toiling away near the back of the gardens. She stiffened, realizing for the first time that Frances was aware of the problems in the viscount’s household.

“Is that…” she began.

“Yes. I was fortunate to hire Mr. Jeffers when he left your employment. I felt it was the least I could do for all of the staff who’d be wrongly accused of thieving or laziness.”

“I see,” Lady Hutchings said, obviously warring with the desire to lash out.

“I think it would be for the best to talk about what happens now,” Frances began, making her way over to the table and taking the chair beside her uncle. Juliet and Thomas exchanged worried glances but joined her as well. Lady Hutchings was the only holdout, choosing instead to remain at the balustrade with her back to them.

“I don’t have to accept this marriage,” Lord Hutchings began. “It was in Scotland, there’s no proof that it was legitimate.”

“That may be true enough, but as Mrs. Bailey has already resided with Mr. Bailey, there would be little benefit to refusing to acknowledge their marriage,” Frances pointed out.

“I can force her to return home and marry whichever man I can find to take her now!”

“No, you actually cannot. All you can do is disinherit her, which I feel like would not be all that traumatic,” she answered, reminding him of his minuscule fortune. Lord Hutchings blushed a deep red behind his overgrowth of whiskers. “However, I am prepared to negotiate on Mrs. Bailey’s behalf.”

“Negotiate? With what, your husband’s money?” Lady Hutchings said, whirling around to face her.

“No, with my own funds. I will make a single payment to you in an amount I believe you will be happy with,” Frances conceded slowly, “and in exchange, you accept Mr. Bailey as your son-in-law and return your daughter to her rightful place in your hearts. You may consider my gift as something of a bride price, if you wish.”

“And what of him? What’s to become of our daughter when she’s married to a butcher’s son?” the viscount demanded.

“Mr. Bailey? Do you wish to plead your case?” Frances asked, smiling.

The young man looked like he might lose consciousness at any moment, but Frances nodded encouragingly. He looked over at Juliet and there was a tangible sense of deep love between them. The transformation that came over him was astonishing, as if there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish with her beside him.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said evenly. “Lord and Lady Hutchings, I am well aware of my origins as a butcher’s son. It might not be what you would have wished for your daughter’s husband, but on the contrary, I can think of nothing so noble as a man who knows a skilled trade. While I intend to better myself and improve my standing in society through hard work, you can also sleep well knowing that your daughter will never go hungry. She will never want for the basic necessities in life, and I intend to provide her with much more than that. Should I fail as a clerk or a solicitor, I will prosper as a butcher. Anything is possible for me because I will have a devoted wife who cares for me as deeply as I care for her.”

No one spoke for a moment, and Frances began to hope that his eloquent words had thawed the ice around her aunt and uncle’s hearts. Her hopes were dashed when her uncle lashed out.

“What utter rubbish!” he bellowed. “You expect me to be glad that my daughter’s husband works a trade? When I have raised her to marry a prince?”

“What does a prince have to offer that a tradesman does not?” Juliet cried, clinging to Thomas’ arm.

“Money!” Lord Hutchings retorted, as though the answer should have been obvious.

“Oh? Then what do you have to offer that a tradesman does not?” Lady Hutchings demanded, stunning them all.

“I beg your pardon?” he demanded, blustering with embarrassment.

“You have no money yourself!” she cried, coming over to stand beside Juliet’s chair. “I can envision the day that we must call on our own daughter’s husband for money to warm the house come winter, and you’re sitting in judgment over him? He at least has ambition, a good mind, a desire to work hard… what do you have other than your own sense of self-importance and money you’ve pilfered from an orphan girl all these years?”

Lord Hutchings burned a bright red, his anger growing. He opened his mouth to retort but the viscountess held up her hand to stop him.