Page 56 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“How was I to know that? Vickers merely told me there was a visitor and that he would not leave without speaking to you!”

“And you sought to discuss it with him yourself?”

Frances was stunned. She’d had no part in this, yet Anthony was venting his fury on her. She thought to say something unkind in return but decided against it. Soon, it was Anthony whose mood had shifted.

“My apologies,” he finally mumbled, still not looking at her. “You couldn’t have known what sort of villain this man is.”

Frances had no reply. Words failed her, though she wished to vent her own irate feelings herself.

“I shall be upstairs if you wish to beg for my forgiveness… or at the very least explain what is going on,” she said simply, storming out of the room without another word.

CHAPTER 21

“Your Grace,” Sara said methodically, still barely concealing her giggle of excitement at addressing Frances in such a way, “you have some things that have been delivered to the house.”

Frances smiled. Though she’d insisted that Sara did not need to prove anything to others, least of all the people in the house, the maid had insisted on practicing her diction and altering her manner of speaking. It had made her speak more deliberately, with much more attention to her enunciation, and it still amused both of them.

“I’m a lady’s maid now, and to a duchess at that,” Sara had explained in a solemn tone. “You cannot have a companion going around with you who sounds as though they’ve just arrived on shore from a fishing village.”

“Sara, I care not! I like you as you are. But if that’s whatyouwish to do, then I applaud your effort and hard work,” Frances had promised her.

Now, Frances looked up from her sewing and gently placed the pins she’d been working with on the table. She straightened up and stretched the hunched over twinges out of her aching back.

“Thank you, Sara. Tell me, has there been any word from Miss Walford?”

“No, Your Grace. I did carry the rest of your letters to the right and proper people, though. I’m sure you’ll know something from them straight away. Should I bring the parcels up?”

Frances frowned. “No, thank you, I’ll come down. I’ve been avoiding His Grace for two days, only pretending to work on these pieces in all that time. It’s the only thing that’s keeping my thoughts from running like a loosed fox. I just cannot stop worrying about Juliet. I thought surely she would send word to me, of all people.”

“Could it be that she’s just afraid to drag you into her matters? She could be keeping quiet out of respect so that you’re not part of her ruin,” Sara said, trying to sound hopeful.

“I hardly think she needs to be concerned about ruining herself,” Frances said defensively.

“My apologies, Your Grace! I didn’t mean anything by it!” Sara cried, her diction slipping with her emotions.

“I know that, silly. I’m not put out with you at all,” Frances assured her with a laugh. “I only meant that should she havetruly gone off to marry this young man of hers, their life together will be…different… than that of the young ladies of theton. They won’t have to concern themselves with the sort of ridiculous rules that we force ourselves to adhere to. I should rather think that their friends and acquaintances would even find their elopement romantic.”

“But how can you be sure that’s what happened? Juliet hasn’t sent word to anyone. She could be in very big danger.”

“I did worry about that myself, but one of the first inquiries Lady Agnes made was to the butcher’s shop, and we’ve visited as well. The owner’s son Thomas is gone, as we well know. It’s the only thing giving me hope and easing my rattled mind right now. Well, that and this blasted sewing!”

“I do wish you’d let me take on doing it. I’ve learned quite a bit, you know,” Sara said, looking proud.

“Oh, I’m only complaining. Besides, with nothing to occupy my thoughts and my hands, I’ll go mad for sure. Come on, let’s go see to those parcels and see what’s inside.”

Downstairs, Frances was greeted by a small mountain of packages. Sara stopped short at the sight of it, while Frances stared at them, perplexed. She looked over them and counted the number in her mind, knowing at once that something wasn’t right.

“These cannot all be mine. The shops must have made an error once again and sent someone else’s things. But now that I’mthinking of it, Lady Emma did place an order that day as well. I wonder if some of these could be hers.”

Frances carried them into the drawing room with Sara and Mr. Vickers’ help, then she began to open them carefully. Sara admired each garment as Frances held it aloft, turning it this way and that. Everything seemed to be in order at first, but soon enough, she realized the error.

“Now I know for certain that these cannot be mine, for I wouldn’t have selected such costly fabrics. And in such colors as these? Never for a newly married lady. These are more suited for a—”

Just then, Miss O’Reilly hurried into the drawing room. She smiled politely, though her expression was nearly frantic.

“My apologies, Your Grace, but some of these… these are my things,” she stammered, looking askance.

“Your things?” Frances returned, trying to keep her tone friendly.Where on earth would a nurse ever wear such things? And how would she even afford fabrics such as these when I wouldn’t even spend Anthony’s money on them for myself?she thought.

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