Page 87 of The Quiet Wife
“Are you quite well, my dear?” Frederick was never ill, but he’d been looking rather tired of late, and tonight he was unusually pale.
“I have a headache,” he said tersely.
His admission surprised her. “I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like to take something for it?”
He shook his head. “I want to see the girls.”
“Of course, but I assure you, my dear, they are wearing the most circumspect gowns.”
“I still want to see. Your judgement regarding circumspection leaves something to be desired.”
Frances clamped her lips shut. She was used to his criticisms, but she was finding it hard not to react. Ever since meeting Jemie, in fact, she had developed something of a fighting spirit.
She gestured to the door and followed him out. “They are terribly excited,” she informed his back as he strode down the hallway. “Do you think you might give them a compliment?”
He threw a glance over his shoulder but said nothing which made Frances apprehensive.
He knocked on the door and strode in. Florence and Fannie were both ready with Nanny Jenks and the maid fussing about them, and each one of them looked so beautiful it filled Frances with pride.
“Darlings,” Frances gushed before Frederick could comment. “You look simply stunning.” She kissed them both on the cheek. “Don’t they, my dear?”
Frederick narrowed his eyes at the girls. “You’ll do. Make sure that you behave like ladies tonight. I’ll have no nonsense. No giggling or girlish behaviour. If you do, you will go to your rooms. Understand?”
The light that shone so brightly when they had walked into the room dimmed.
“Of course, papa,” Florence hurriedly agreed, eyes downcast. Fannie’s cheeks were red as she nodded. Frances wanted to hit her husband.Why couldn’t he simply say something nice? Would a single compliment hurt? He may well have a headache, but did that really stop him from being kind to his girls who would never do anything to embarrass him?
Before he could say anything else cutting, Freddie appeared and sailed past his father.
“My word,” he put a hand to his heart dramatically. “Howbeautifulyou both look! Are you truly Fannie and Florence or have some angels of glory come and taken your place?”
They both giggled, and their excitement returned.
“It’s us,” Florence sighed, “as well you know. You look awfully handsome,” she added.
“Why, thank you.” He ran a hand down his waistcoat then tugged at his sleeves. “But I’m a poor second to you, lovely ladies. You are going to take London by storm in the spring! I can see it now. You will truly have a magnificent debut looking like that, and all the young bloods will be falling over themselves. I can see I shall have to fight them off!”
Both girls blushed furiously, but their eyes shone, and smiles illuminated their faces again. Frances wanted to hug Freddie but had to make do with just patting his arm.
“Are you ready, my love?” she said to her son.
“As I will ever be.” He crooked his arm and Frances took it.
“Girls, why don’t you take papa’s arm?” she persisted when her husband just stood there.
Frederick bestirred himself and crooked his elbows. Both girls hesitated, but then tentatively placed their arms on his and they headed downstairs.
“Thank you, darling,” Frances murmured to Freddie when it was safe. “They needed to hear how well they look.”
A muscle ticked along Freddie’s jaw. “I heard what he said, and I saw their faces.”
“Oh, love,” Frances sighed. “He’s just working terribly hard at the moment.”
“You can defend him all you wish. It doesn’t change the facts.”
Frances bit her lip and squeezed his arm knowing her son was right.
In the drawing room, Lizzie and Edith exclaimed delightedly at what a pretty sight the girls were, and Alastair and William bowed over their hands, proclaiming them to be simply stunning. With Fannie in palest lilac, and Florence in white, they were a vision and it filled Frances’ heart to see her babies as young women. The girls found themselves quite the centre of attention but behaved impeccably, as she had known they would.
