Page 94 of His Arranged Duchess
She handed him a slip of paper withLucienscrawled on the front. Wordlessly, Lucien took it and opened it.
Lucien, I am sorry for the scandal. This was never meant to happen. You did not deserve this. Although I am ruined, at least I can now be free. I want you to be free, too, and happy.
Yours, Frances.
A lump formed in his throat. Lucien stared down at the note until the words blurred. Swallowing hard, he folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket.
“I have an idea,” he said firmly. “Although it will require a good deal of work, and I imagine will take up most of the night and part of the morning.”
Katherine, who had gone back to her book, set it aside, eyeing him inquisitively.
“How fascinating. Well, consider me intrigued, Your Grace. What would you like me to do to help?”
CHAPTER 30
Frances woke with a start, a little surprised that she had managed to fall asleep at all. Her dreams had been full of chaos, of running, and tears, and an impending feeling of dread. She was sure she had heard strange noises in the distance, hammering and muffled shouts.
The sun streamed in through half-opened curtains, bright and full. It must be mid-morning.
Shifting on the unfamiliar bed, Frances rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.
What do I do now?
She was sure that even the redoubtable Katherine would have given up and gone by now. Frances’s new room afforded her a view of the driveway below. She’d watched Mama arrive and leave, then Uncle Cass and Aunt Emily do the same. Katherine had stopped occasionally knocking on Frances’s door sometimein the afternoon, and Frances imagined that she had left soon after.
That’s what I wanted,she thought groggily.I wanted them to leave me alone. I wanted so desperately to be left alone.
I got what I wanted, then.
She closed her eyes, feeling the burn of tears against her lids.
The questions that had plagued her as she fell asleep remained. Where would she go? What would she do? How could she put her friends at a distance without hurting herself and them too much? Because, of course, one could not remain friends with a woman as thoroughly ruined as she was. Even with the support of her husband, Frances knew that she was entirely infamous.
And I do not have the support of my husband, do I? I gave all of that up.
She sniffed hard, trying to hold back the tears. She wasnotgoing to spend all day lying in bed and snuffling like a child.
I’m not exactly sure what else I’ll do, but… but something else, to be sure.
A commotion out in the hallway caught her attention. There were muffled, anxious voices, followed by drumming footsteps.
Abruptly, somebody knocked on the door, and Frances flinched.
“Go away,” she called, before she could let herself think twice.
“It’s me, Your Grace,” came Gray’s tremulous voice. “There’s been a… situation.”
A cold hand folded itself around Frances’s heart.
“A situation?” she echoed.
Gray gasped for breath. “It’s the duke, Your Grace. He went into the East Tower for some reason and... You know how it is. You must come quickly, please.”
The world around Frances seemed to rapidly constrict and expand. She was out of bed before she knew what she was doing, swinging a loose robe over her nightgown. The lock clicked, and she hauled open the door.
Gray stood there, out of breath, mopping his brow with a handkerchief.
“You should hurry, Your Grace,” he murmured.
