Page 90 of The Quiet Wife
Indeed, Mr Caldicott took up a place, and as the remaining guests settled themselves between the parlour and the billiard room, Frances excused herself and went to sit beside Fannie and Florence.
“I’m terribly proud of you both,” she said softly. “You’ve been remarkable.”
Jemie and Anna, returned from Elinor’s bedside, came to sit with them, and so did Lizzie and Mr Prinsep. They settled down, and Frances watched both girls as they beamed their delight. It really was turning into a wonderful evening and for once she was actually enjoying being hostess.
It was sometime later that Frances realised her husband had disappeared. She wandered around the rooms the guests were using, stopping to chat as she did so, but could find no sign of him. She wondered if he’d ventured into the garden for some air. Or if his headache had worsened and he’d gone to rest a while. He had been under a considerable amount of pressure of late, and sometimes he appeared quite worn. It was unlike him, though.
She called for more tea and cakes for the guests, and for glasses to be replenished, and satisfied that was all in hand, she went to check on Elinor again.
There was little so awful as having to miss out on a party. She even had a vain hope Frederick might have popped in to see his youngest daughter but that hope vanished when she walked in to find Elinor sat up in bed reading, alone. When Frances asked if papa had been to see her, Elinor just rolled her eyes.
Frances spent a hilarious fifteen minutes with Elinor, telling her all about the party before she left. As she returned to the guests, she decided she should probably check that Frederick hadn’t worsened. She hesitated, wondered if perhaps she should send his valet to his room. He might not like her finding him unwell but then thought better of it and decided that as she was there, she may as well look.
As she walked along the corridor to his door, her resolve faltered. She so rarely visited his room. She almost quailed but gave a soft rap and opened the door for a quick peep.
What she saw rooted her to the spot with absolute, utter shock. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak…
She had never seen her husband naked before. He came to her in a nightshirt, and always had done, and never once removed it. But here he was. Stark naked. His backside nestled between two long, creamy, equally naked legs. Legs that belonged to none other than her friend, Rosa Caldicott, who was moaning his name and clutching at him as he thrust into her. She still wore her dress. He’d simply rucked it up. He’d loosened her bodice so soft breasts spilled out. Both Frederick and Rosa were so engrossed that they hadn’t heard the knock on the door or the opening of it, and Frances stood there, feeling like a complete fool.
CHAPTER 29
London – Kensington
She cleared her throat.
It was remarkable. Even when caught stark naked in the act of infidelity with her supposed friend and the wife ofhisfriend, Frederick made Frances feel that the whole debacle was somehow her fault.
She supposed that her appearance, and decision to make her presence known, had arrived as he was apparently nearing his climax (she recognised the signs), putting him in something of a temper, but even so, Frances felt it was a bit rich for him to try and take any moral high ground given the circumstances.
Rosa screamed and pushed him away upon becoming aware of Frances’ presence. Frederick seemed torn between guilt, wanting to berate her, and finishing his business. He settled for dragging the coverlet over Rosa and clutching his private parts tightly whilst roaring at her, demanding to know why she was there, what about their guests and so on and so forth. Frances simply stared at them, rooted to the spot.
“What in God’s name! Don’t just stand there staring. Get out, woman!” Frederick bellowed.
Normally, Frances would have fled at his tone, but somehow, from somewhere, she found the fortitude to stand her ground. She would not be so easily dismissed.
“Forgive me, but I have just caught you in the act of adultery with a good friend of mine, andyouare shouting atme?” she asked, proud of her cool tone.
“Don’t youdarespeak to me like that,” he spluttered. The effect of his anger was muted by the fact that he was naked despite attempts to protect his modesty, and the sparse patches of hair on his chest couldn’t hide the red blotches all over him, presumably from excitement and exertion.
She regarded Rosa, who had tears rolling down her face, and seemed to be genuinely anguished.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered. “So terribly sorry.”
Rosa’s betrayal was more intensely painful because Frances had believed them to be friends. Good friends. “So you should be,” was all she could manage.
Frederick was scrambling off the bed but getting his large, naked feet tangled in the sheets, making him look all scrawny legs and knees. He eventually threw them back with a yell, stood up and advanced towards her. He’d abandoned all hope of protecting her from his nakedness, giving Frances quite a show considering she’d been married to the man all these years and never seen his body exposed. So… sprinkled with human frailty. So much so, she had to smile.
With hindsight, the smile was a mistake.
“Are you laughing at me?” he hissed, striding towards her. “Who in God’s name do you think you are?”
Despite her quickening heartbeat, she steeled her resolve. “I’m your wife. I’m the mother of your children, and I’m your hostess. If you are thinking of striking me again, might I suggest you consider how it will look if I return to your guests with a bruised cheek or marks on my arms?” she warned him,standing her ground even if she now felt herself trembling.
Her words fell on empty ears, it seemed, as he raised his arm as if to backhand her across the face, but Rosa jumped from the bed, breasts jiggling as she dragged her dress up unsuccessfully, and threw herself between them.
“Fred. NO! Leave her alone!” she pleaded.
She put her hands on his chest, then on his cheeks and caressed his face to calm him down. “Leave her be. She has every right to be upset. Leave her be.”
