Page 59 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“Your Grace?” Mr. Vickers inquired as he passed the front room.

“Oh. Yes, Vickers?” Frances asked, startled by someone calling out to her.

“Will you take your dinner in the dining room? Or would you prefer to have Mrs. Barrett bring it upstairs?” he asked softly, coming closer.

“I should think the duke wishes for dinner to be served in the dining room,” she answered, measuring her words and trying to sound cheerful.

“I see. Of course. But Your Grace, the duke is not at home, I’m afraid. He has gone out.”

“Oh? Did he say where he might have gone?”

“No, Your Grace. He left earlier today when you two—when you last spoke,” the butler said, looking sheepish. As Frances stood and watched him in silence, Mr. Vickers bowed slightly and took his leave.

So, he’s fled from the house, she thought, feeling more amused than upset.Interesting to know that I have the sort of power over him that will cause him to escape rather than remain here.

Frances’ amusement was in short supply. As she decided between staying downstairs and having her dinner alone in the dining room or creeping back to her room, the door to the servants’ stairs opening behind her caused her to turn.

“Oh. It’s you,” Frances said with a pinched smile as Miss O’Reilly emerged with a tray.

For only a flash, the nurse looked frightened, as though she couldn’t fathom what Frances might do or say. Soon enough, though, she recovered and put on a haughty sort of look.

“Yes. I was coming to fetch a dinner tray. We can’t have anyone going hungry, can we,” she said, lifting it slightly as she looked down at it and insinuated who it was for.

“I wish to know who that woman is,” Frances said lightly, keeping all maliciousness out of her words.

“You will have to ask His Grace about that. It’s not my place to say anything. Though I cannot help but wonder, if he wished for you to know, I would think he’d have told you already.”

Frances bristled at the woman’s impertinence. She must truly know her position was secure, for some reason. Still, there was no need for it to go unanswered.

“I will ask you to remember yourself when speaking to me,” Frances said as politely as she could manage. “I did overhear your cruel words earlier about me keeping someone else’s belongings.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. People are usually unpleasantly surprised when they listen at doors where they don’t belong.”

Miss O’Reilly gave her a knowing smirk, practically daring her to become angry. Frances fumed.

“I will be speaking to the duke about your manners,” she managed to say, pushing down the indignation that made her nearly stumble over her words.

“I should think you’d have to find him first,Your Grace. Best of luck in that,” the nurse answered before turning her back and sauntering off with the tray.

Frances was struck speechless by the nurse’s impudence. She had half a mind to barge upstairs and demand the answers she sought, especially since Anthony was not at home and unable to prevent her. She sank into a dining chair in defeat when she realized that would not be wise.

Mrs. Barrett brought up Frances’ tray and placed it on the table before her. Frances looked down at it and was surprised to find that she had no desire to eat any of it. It looked as wonderful as ever, and if she thought very hard about it, she could tell the aroma should have been enticing. But the thought of eating it weighed on her like a stone in her middle.

“Is something wrong, Your Grace?” Mrs. Barrett asked cautiously. “I can prepare you something else if this is not to your liking.”

“Oh no, not at all! Thank you, please tell Cook it looks delicious, Mrs. Barrett. It’s only… I just find that I’m not feeling very hungry after all,” Frances answered sadly.

Mrs. Barrett clucked sympathetically. “I understand. It’s a lot for you to have to think about.”

“Can you not tell me anything about what’s going on? Anything at all? I beg you, I will keep your confidence if you can but help me understand.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace. The duke is above all else my employer and he has instructed his staff to keep this secret. No one is to know about it, and it is not for us to speak of. But I can promise you this much—it is not what you think.”

“Oh really? So, there is not a beautiful, young, titled woman residing in the attic of my house? One that the duke supplies with gifts and other luxuries? That is certainly a relief! How silly of me to have fretted about it!” Frances snapped. Almost at once, she remembered herself and mumbled an apology for venting her frustration on the housekeeper.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Barrett said sweetly, “I promise you there is nothing to worry yourself about.”

“I wish I could agree, Mrs. Barrett, but as you’ve surely noticed, my husband has left and appears to not be speaking to me. You’ll have to forgive me if I am unable to share your optimism.”

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