Page 46 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

Frances felt her cheeks blush at the compliment. It was hard to reconcile the cold, distant man who may very well be keeping a mistress in the house with this protective, kind one who’d appeared out of nowhere to stand for her against her aunt. It made her reluctant to believe anything malicious about him, but still, it left her wondering what she could know to be true.

“Have you any idea how much my father’s estate was worth?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It is quite a considerable amount, though most of it was left to your cousin when he assumed your father’s title. However, the caretaker of your portion of the estate appears to have invested those funds very wisely over the years. Your aunt and uncle only received an allowance that was supposed to provide for your care, though I cannot help but think they were keeping it for themselves.”

“It would appear so, though they did send me away to school. Given that my only choice would have been to remain here with them, it was certainly the preferable option,” she replied with a wry grin.

Anthony laughed again, that rare sound that made Frances’ heart skip a beat. She wanted desperately to know more about Miss O’Reilly, fearful of getting her hopes up that there could be anything between the two of them without this specter of hismistress looming over them. However, for now, she did not wish to anger him, not when they were sharing such a caring moment together.

Too soon, the ever-familiar air of hesitation overcame Anthony once more. His mirth slowly faded, like the last rays of sun before the storm clouds devour them. He looked polite but reserved again as he bowed stiffly. Frances wanted more than anything to keep talking to him, to have a real conversation. Her mind raced in search of a topic.

“I was wondering something about the house,” Frances said hopefully.

“Yes?”

She smiled nervously and gestured to the sofa, inviting him to sit. Several painfully peculiar seconds passed before he finally sat down. Frances joined him, keeping a comfortable distance between them.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that there are some places where the house is in disrepair,” she began slowly, watching him to see whether her statement insulted him.

“No, I hadn’t noticed,” he answered, sounding dully honest but unbothered.

“Oh. Well, it’s probably just things that an outsider might notice, for you’ve lived here for such a long time. I was wondering—hoping, really—whether I might oversee some of the repairs. I would start only with the most necessary things, of course, and it would provide me with something to do, a sense of purpose here. And if you were pleased with the results, we could consider some things that would simply make this lovely house even more beautiful.” Frances paused, then worried that Anthony was displeased with the suggestion. “And now that I’m to have my father’s funds, I would gladly pay for them so much as I can afford!”

“Absolutely not. It’s out of the question,” Anthony stated, though he didn’t seem too upset.

“Oh. I see,” Frances said quietly, looking down and finding that there was nothing more to say.

“I think you are unhappy. I’m sorry,” Anthony said, slowly. “I didn’t mean that you could not do this. I only meant that you mustn’t spend your father’s money. That man had never even heard of me, and I will not take his funds when he intended those to be yours.”

“I truly don’t mind. After all, you did say it isourhome now,” she offered softly.

Anthony started to reply, but he stopped, looking as though his words were still tumbling around in his mind. Frances waited patiently, not interfering as he was trying to figure out how to speak them.

“I will think about this, I promise. In the meantime, write out a list of what needs to be done, and what other things you simply wish to do, and I will consider all of it.”

Frances smiled gratefully. It might not be the most straightforward answer, but she got the feeling that her husband had just conceded to something that was terribly difficult for him. As if reading her mind, he looked away and spoke again.

“I don’t always know the right way to say what I’m thinking. I can only ask that you are patient with me when I’m wrong and understanding when I’m uncertain.”

“That is such a small request,” Frances assured him sweetly.

Anthony looked relieved, though the sentiment seemed brief. “I want you to be happy here.”

“I am happy.”

No sooner had Frances spoken than she realized that her words had come forth as if by instinct rather than heartfelt feeling. She couldn’t help but feel as though she was fibbing a little, that perhaps she wasn’t as happy as she could be—or that she should be. After all, she’d avoided both a terrible marriage and a life of misery with her aunt and uncle. Her doubts about Anthony were upsetting, to say the least, but they were nothing that so many other gentlemen hadn’t done. So, why did she feel so out of sorts?

“Good,” he managed to say, interrupting her thoughts.

“But before I begin thinking about the house,” Frances replied, shaking off her own selfish worries to ponder her cousin’s plight, “I wonder if you might have any help to offer concerning my cousin.”

Anthony looked confused, so Frances recounted the heartbreaking tale of Juliet’s love for Thomas. He kept silent as she spoke, nodding thoughtfully on occasion. Finally, Frances finished and waited for him to say something, but he seemed to be pondering it deeply.

“Do you have anything to suggest? Any notion of where I might begin searching?” she asked at last.

“I fear I wouldn’t know. It’s not really something I’m familiar with, I’m afraid. But I will be happy to inquire of anyone if you can direct me what to ask.”

“Thank you. As soon as I know more, I’ll do that,” she said, beaming.

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