Page 97 of The Quiet Wife
“As you wish,” he murmured in a clipped tone.
Eternally grateful for his good sense, and that he didn’t choose that moment to make a scene, she gave his hand a hurried squeeze and dashed on to Lizzie’s room. Another lock of hair fell as she knocked and threw herself into the room.
***
Lizzie was folding a shawl but dropped it when she saw the state of her sister.
“Whatever is to do?” she said, coming to gather Frances up. “You’re all undone!”
“I amutterlyundone,” she moaned, so pleased to see her sister she almost wept.
Lizzie led her to the bed, and they both sank onto it. “Tell me all,” Lizzie put a comforting arm about her shoulder and petted her face. “Should I ring for tea?”
Frances nodded.
“What on earth happened to your hair?”
“I will tell you everything, but if Frederick should storm in suddenly and demand to know where I was last night, please tell him I was upset, and I was with you all night.”
Lizzie’s mouth hung open. “What… what have you been doing?”
Frances had a small reprieve from answering as the maid came to the door and Lizzie broke off to request some tea and toast.
“Frances, what have you done? What happened to your hair? Is that a bruise?” Lizzie inspected her sister’s arm.
Frances covered her face with her hands for a moment, then looked at her sister.
“Wait for the tea. I’ll tell you, but I want no interruptions and no eavesdropping.”
Lizzie waited patiently.
The maid brought tea and settled it on the small table. Lizzie thanked her and after the door had closed, returned to the bed to sit beside her sister.
“Now we won’t be disturbed further, what happened?” Her voice was low and filled with concern.
Frances pleated the handkerchief over and over and eventually found her voice.
“Last night during our entertaining, I walked in on Frederick making love to Rosa Caldicott and I was so shocked I spent the rest of the night in Jemie’s room.”
Lizzie’s mouth opened and closed. “You… spent the night with Jemie Whistler?”
“I kissed him, and he held me,” she felt compelled to add, “but nothing more. I swear.”
“And your hair?” Lizzie gently lifted her wrist. “And your arm?” she said as the fabric slid up, revealing more of the red and purple welt where he’d held her so tightly.
“Frederick and I had words over breakfast. He said there was nothing to be said so…” She described the rest of the altercation and watched the colour flush Lizzie’s cheeks.
“Show me your arm properly,” she ordered.
Frances hesitated but held it out.
Lizzie swallowed and inspected it further. Frances could see the imprint of Frederick’s fingers. It took her sister a moment to speak. “Your husband is a savage.”
Frances nodded, no longer having the will to defend Frederick as she once had.
“Come, sit at the mirror and I’ll fix your hair. I can at least do that much.”
Frances sat down and Lizzie quickly and cleverly took her hair down, brushed it, and re-pinned it neatly.
