Page 29 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“That’s the problem right there, Frannie. You don’t have to do anything to deserve happiness. I’m sorry that anyone in your life ever made you feel as though you weren’t worth all this,” Agnes said somberly, leaning her head on Frances’ shoulder for a moment. She giggled quietly and said, “Besides, you know how Mother loves to host an occasion!”

“Well, I am most grateful to her. This was more than I ever expected.”

“Frannie, look! The duke is here!” Agnes said, whispering behind her hand.

Frances looked to the door where the butler was bringing Anthony into the main room. He spoke briefly to the Duchess of Richmond and her husband, then scanned the crowded room for Frances. Before her eyes, she saw the steely blank mask he always wore shift a little when he spotted her over the throngs of people. He lifted his hand slightly and gave her a small wave, which made her heart skip for some unexpected reason.

“Hmm, who knew the duke was such a romantic?” Agnes said playfully, causing Frances to blush a little.

As she watched him come near, Frances noted how he never looked at any of the other people. He kept his gaze on her in that same unnerving way he’d had when she’d first met him at the ball. It was as if no one else was in the room save her, nor even existed.

“My apologies for being later than I’d hoped,” he said warmly, all but ignoring Agnes standing beside her.

“It’s all right. We actually only arrived here a little more than an hour ago,” she answered, looking up at him slightly despite her height. “Oh, but we can leave whenever you like, especially if you have more work to see to.”

“No, I’m finished. We will stay as long as you wish,” he answered, but too soon, Frances saw that he looked utterly miserable. Once, as people pressed closer and closer, Anthony even appeared to tremble slightly.

Has this man been keeping to himself for so long that a mere party is torture?Frances thought, wondering if a dreaded solitude awaited her for the rest of her life. She chided herself for such an uncharitable thought.Stop that at once! He has never mentioned so much as a word about locking you away or keeping you from your friends!

“I’m ready to go,” she said lightly. “I’m quite eager to see my new home, after all.”

“Of course, if you’re certain,” Anthony said, though his smile carried more than a hint of relief.

It took nearly half an hour more for Frances and Anthony to say their goodbyes and reach the front door. Outside, the gloomy day had given way to a shining midday. The sun had reached its peak and was just hinting at starting to go down, bathing everything in a radiant, inviting glow. They climbed into Anthony’s carriage and were about to set off when he asked a question.

“Where are your parcels? Did you not have time to go purchase what you need?”

“Some of the things I bought were taken to your house, or they will be delivered later today. But many of the items had to beordered. They won’t be ready for a number of weeks, I should think, due to all the modistes being overloaded with orders for the Season.”

“I see. My apologies, I didn’t know. I’ve never had to be fitted for a gown before,” he answered dryly, turning his attention to the window and leaving Frances to wonder if that was another joke.

As the carriage wound through the streets of London, Frances began to wonder how she’d ever manage to find her way around. This was a part of the city she’d never visited, for her years at school had prevented her. She could imagine all of the grand parties and balls that must be held in these fine houses, though, and she longed to see more.

At long last, the driver turned the carriage off the main road and onto a sweeping drive that wound in front of an immense house. Frances tried not to gape with wonder at such a structure, though she couldn’t help but marvel at the rows upon rows of windows that gleamed with the sun’s rays. A wide marble staircase led up to the front door, and two adjacent, twisting staircases framed it like scrollwork. At the very front of the property was centered a small reflecting pool where swans drifted above their own images, and neatly trimmed shrubs framed the pool like a gilt-enshrined masterpiece.

“Anthony, your home is beautiful,” Frances said when she could finally find her voice.

“No.Ourhome,” he answered simply before descending from the carriage and striding away.

Frances worried that she had offended him with the remark, one that had distanced herself from him without intending to. Her worry was eased when Anthony appeared at her door, having come around the carriage and waving off the footman to help her down himself. She beamed at him for the gesture, but it was brief. He dropped her hand and walked off, perhaps expecting her to follow him inside.

At the front door, the entirety of Anthony’s household—no, our household, she reminded herself—waited to greet the new duchess. Anthony waited for her to catch up to him and began the introductions. The sparse handful of people included only a butler, a housekeeper, and another woman who was introduced as the nurse.

A nurse? Frances looked to Anthony. Is he ill in some way?

No one thought to explain the need for this person, and Frances most certainly didn’t want to make a bad impression while still standing in the doorway from her arrival, so she didn’t inquire any further.

“It is lovely to meet all of you,” she said hesitantly, already wondering how a house this immense was cared for by only these three. The nurse smiled and departed almost at once, leaving Frances to wonder what duties she had to see to.

“If there is anything you require, Vickers or Mrs. Barrett will be happy to assist you,” Anthony said with a touch of reverence in his voice for his staff. The butler bowed and left them, while Mrs. Barrett went to retrieve the items that had been deliveredalready for Frances. “Now, it cannot be helped, but I must see to my work. I need only inform you of two rules that I must require you to follow.”

Frances looked at him expectantly, already wondering how her life was about to change forever.

“The first is that—as you can probably imagine—it gets very lonely here at times. Therefore, I shall require… no, I’m sorry. I shall expect that you will take your meals with me.”

“That sounds lovely,” Frances answered cheerfully, relieved to hear such a mundane request.

“Well, Mrs. Barrett has informed me that married ladies traditionally take their breakfast upstairs in their rooms. If it’s all the same to you, I would like to have some company at all meals instead.”

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