Page 48 of His Arranged Duchess
Is there something wrong with me, I wonder? Why did he suggest such a thing, and thenleaveas if it were nothing?
Sighing, Frances pushed back her plate and stood up. At once, a couple of footmen hurried forward to attend to her. More and more staff arrived at the Abbey every day, and already some fresh revenue was coming in from the estate. Frances’s dowry had breathed new life into the house and grounds, and its heartbeat steadily grew stronger.
“Where might I find His Grace?” Frances asked no one in particular.
The footmen exchanged glances, and then one of them hesitantly spoke up.
“I… I believe the duke is in the garden, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” she responded crisply and swept out of the room.
It took close to half an hour to find Lucien. The morning was well along, the sun streaming down, and Frances was unpleasantly hot by the time she discovered him kneeling by a clump of rose bushes, scrabbling around in the soil. He glanced up as she approached, his expression cool and blank.
“Good morning, Duchess,” he said at once, offering a faint smile. “I trust you slept well?”
She flushed, folding her hands in front of herself. “Let us dispense with the small talk.”
He sat back on his heels, dusting soil from his hands. “An interesting beginning. Go on.”
“I am here to discuss the events of last night.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And what conclusion have you reached?”
“Well, I am sorry for my behaviour, of course. I already apologized for breaking your rule and visiting the East Tower, so I shan’t repeat that, but I am also sorry for the way I spoke to you. I called you a,” she paused, hesitating, and forced herself to continue. “A murderer. That was entirely wrong of me. I hope you can forgive me.”
He stared at her unblinking for a long moment. At last, he sighed, scratching his head and leaving soil traces in his hair.
“There is nothing to forgive. I’m aware of the rumors surrounding me. And I know that you, too, are aware.”
She bit her lip. “I know, but I oughtn’t to have said it.”
“It’s only natural, I suppose. There is so much we do not know about each other. On that note, I have been thinking.” He got slowly to his feet, dusting off his knees, rising to his usual height far above Frances’s head. “We must learn more about each other. Starting tonight. Courting couples attend events together, do they not? They have quiet, intimate assignments. I have something planned for us. What is your schedule for today?”
Frances blinked, a little taken aback. “My… My schedule?”
“Yes, my dear. With what have you filled your time with today?”
She flushed at his teasing. “I am going to the modiste with my mother and the Duchess of Clapton. Oh, and with Katherine.”
“How charming. Be home by no later than six o’clock. Oh, and be sure to bring a new gown.”
Without waiting for a reply, Lucien dropped her a wink and stepped around her, striding coolly off across the lawn. Frances was left feeling slightly breathless, as though she had missed something important.
I suppose he forgives me, then. He doesn’t seem angry, which is a relief.
But what on earth are we doing tonight? A private dinner? A ball? An opera? The wretched man didn’t tell me what event I should be dressing for!
“Not the burgundy, Frances, dear,” Mama tutted. “It’s a color for an older woman.”
“Don’t be so old-fashioned, Margaret,” Aunt Emily snorted. “Burgundy is a perfectly proper color. It’s not as if she’s draping herself head-to-toe in black velvet and pearls. If you like the burgundy, Frances, you ought to get it.”
“The dress can be completed by tonight, your Grace,” the modiste added eagerly, clearly keen to make a sale. “The adjustments needed for this gown are very small. It fits you almost perfectly already.”
Frances bit her lip, thumbing the material. She was trying on the dress, standing on a pedestal in front of the mirror. The cut was something different from what she would generally wear, with a much lighter skirt and long, tight sleeves that reached to the backs of her hands, the cuffs dotted with pearls and sequins. The bodice of the dress was thick with sequins, like the scales of a fish.
“What do you think, Katherine?”
Katherine looked up from her perusal of some ribbons.
