Page 22 of His Arranged Duchess
“I don’t mean to be unkind, darling,” Mama murmured, leaning forward to take Frances’s hand again. “I only want you to understand, to truly understand. You think you would lead a happy life as a spinster, and perhaps you might, if you had the money and status to keep you comfortable. But the plain fact is that you do not. Neither of us does. We must be careful not to press Uncle Cassian for too much. He gives us entirely too much help and attention as it is, and youknowwhy we must be careful.”
Frances did, and didn’t bother to reply. She sat still for a moment, gnawing on her lower lip.
“I don’t know how to be a wife, Mama,” she said at last, voice low. “Or a duchess. They seem to be two very different things.”
“You are right,” Mama responded, voice crisp. “They are. But if you keep your composure and concentrate on holding upyourend of the bargain, you’ll do well enough, I should think.”
There was an air of finality in Mama’s voice, a none-too-subtle hint that she wanted to end the conversation.
It seemed that no advice would be forthcoming. Well, nobody had given Mama any advice when she first married the baron, had they? She had to manage it alone.
It isn’t fair. Mama was never a wallflower like me. Although Lucien said that he could not believe thatIwas a wallflower.
It’s strange. Why do I act differently around him? Why does hemakeme act differently? One thing is clear: This is allhisfault.
On this uncharitable thought, Frances forced herself to smile at her mother, although the gesture was a little thin. The air between them had grown heavy, thick with tension.
“I’m sure I shall manage,” Frances said breezily, “Never mind, Mama.”
Mama eyed her narrowly. “And this talk of annulment?”
“Forgotten. Don’t worry.”
“Good. Because a man like the duke is not one to be trifled with. He has a reputation to consider, especially under his circumstances.”
Frances paused, frowning. “What circumstances?”
Mama shook her head a little too quickly. “Think nothing of it. Just mark what I say. If he learns that you plan to humiliate him in any way, you may find that you are pushed before you can jump. And that’s all I will say on the matter.”
CHAPTER 9
Gray met Frances at the door, and there was a little strain around his eyes. He took her coat, bonnet, and hat, all the while exuding an air of anxiety.
“Gray?” she ventured at last. “Is something wrong?”
He met her eye with a jolt and swallowed thickly. “W-Wrong?”
“Yes. You seem worried.”
“It’s just that you came home sooner than I had imagined, Your Grace.”
Before Frances could question him further, the sound of smashing glass echoed from a room somewhere in the depths of the house, followed by a high-pitched peal of laughter.Femalelaughter.
Something tightened in Frances’s chest. She glanced back at Gray, who was not meeting her eyes.
“We have guests?” she managed at last, trying to sound calm.
“Yes. That is, his Grace has guests.”
“I see. And where are they?”
Gray met her eye at last. He looked apologetic. “In the ballroom, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. I shall go and introduce myself, shall I?”
Before Gray could respond, Frances set off down the hallway, following the distant sound of voices. Her chest was tight, and she was a little surprised to feelangersurging through her.
What exactly do I expect to find in this ballroom? And no matter what it is, surely I cannot believe that I have any right to object?
