Page 69 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“There’s no reason for disagreement, Anthony. Simply be kind and endearing. That’s all she requires, I’m certain of it.”

“How can a girl of your age possibly know what a wife needs, hmm?” Anthony challenged, though Frances could tell by his tone that he was teasing.

“I have a lot of time to sit and think, dear brother,” Abigail countered, though her tone was far from playful. “I know it’s what I would require if I were in her position. She is newlymarried to a man who keeps his feelings closely guarded, and you’ve told me yourself that the pair of you are at odds. I would wager any money I had that she will be glad to have you if you would only be cheerful and adoring.”

“And if she does not? If she turns away because I’m not the man she wishes I was? Then what do you propose, hmm?”

“Then let her really know the man you are, and she will come to love that person. I know it. How could she not when you are practically perfect?” Abigail teased.

“Practically perfect? Merely ‘practically’?” Anthony joked in return, pretending to be wounded. Abigail laughed so heartily that it brought on a fit of coughing.

“I’ve tired you out already. I should leave you to your rest,” he suggested, somber once more.

“That’s probably for the best,” she managed weakly. “But please come back later. For tea, perhaps? Miss O’Reilly can fetch us a fresh tray and we can discuss all of your many shortcomings further.”

“I simply cannot wait,” he replied sarcastically, nodding to the nurse.

“And has there been any further news on our problem?” Abigail asked as Anthony rose from his chair.

“A little. Nothing is certain, of course, but I had a rather interesting meeting with some men yesterday evening.”

“An interesting meeting. I see. Tell me, is that where you got those bruises?” she asked accusingly, gesturing to the area just beneath her eye.

“I wondered how long it would be before you spoke of them, but I fear I cannot tell you anything more,” Anthony said, laughing softly.

Frances watched as his feet moved once more, stepping closer to Abigail’s chair. She heard him place an affectionate kiss on her cheek before he walked to the door.

“Anthony?” Abigail called back. The feet stopped and turned around. “You must tell the duchess that you love her. She deserves to hear it, not merely know it’s true.”

“I agree. It’s just… well, it’s a difficult matter, I’m afraid,” Anthony answered, then he left.

The silence in the room was thick as Frances sought to see if they were alone once more. No one spoke, an unusual tableau of waiting.

“Is it safe?” Frances whispered after several moments had passed.

“No, not until the staircase door closes,” Abigail whispered back. “Rachel, please go and see that he’s fully gone.”

“Yes, my lady,” Miss O’Reilly said before hurrying after the duke on tiptoe.

When the nurse returned, Frances shimmied out from beneath the bed. She stood up straighter and smoothed the skirts of her gown, then patted her hair into place. She sat down across from Abigail and gave her a knowing look.

“So that was the reason for your invitation this morning,” Frances said, cocking an eyebrow at her as she grinned. “You are quite the devious little puppet master, are you not? Orchestrating every circumstance from your lair like a clockwork inventor?”

Abigail giggled. “I know almost everything that goes on in this house, even from up here in my perch. The pair of you can simply not be trusted to work this out for yourselves, for you are both at odds with one another. So, I had to intervene on your behalf. I make no apologies for that!”

“Nor should you. It was a brilliant scheme,” Frances acknowledged. “The fact that my heart is lighter is second to the joy of getting to meet you for myself, though. I have thoroughly enjoyed this visit, and not only because of your brother’s appearance. Are you tired now, though? Should I go?”

“Oh no, I only agreed with him because I couldn’t leave you under the bed any longer!” Abigail said, giggling once more.“Now, tell me more about your cousin. She sounds absolutely wonderful…”

CHAPTER 27

He loves me, Frances thought as she finally descended the stairs from Abigail’s room.He does truly love me!

The thought lifted her spirits and carried her all the way up to her rooms, making her feel giddy. If only she could break through the walls that he had so stubbornly erected around himself and let him know that she felt the same way.

The notion stopped her in her tracks, one foot poised on the stairs.

I love him, she thought suddenly, the idea confounding her.But how? How can I possibly love a complete stranger, one who has shown so little regard for me? It makes no sense!

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