Page 39 of His Arranged Duchess
Hewas not looking at her and was inspecting his nails instead. Deborah’s eyes were narrowed, and she was drawing her lower lip between her teeth. When Lucien eventually glanced up—as one would when one was being stared at so assiduously—Deborah did not look away. Instead, she flashed a coy smile, lowering her eyes and glancing up at him through her lashes.
Lucien only stared back, bewildered and more than a little amused. He glanced over at Frances, and at long last Deborah realized that she was being watched, too. Immediately, color rushed into her face.
Frances was shocked, registering the strength of her own feelings.
How dare she? How dare this woman flirt with my husband right in front of my face? I daresay she’s done it before. Sheimagines that I’m a dull, insipid woman without the sense to see beyond my own nose. She thinks nothing of me, that is clear.
Frances recalled what Hannah had said—that she’d read about Frances in the papers. No doubt, the papers had not been complimentary about Frances and her sudden rise to nobility. Mostly, Frances had avoided such articles, but they were hard to ignore, especially when the rest of the world seemed to be reading them.
“You seem distracted, Deborah,” Frances heard herself say, voice tight. “I’m not sure whether your parents ever warned you of this, but it’s not wise to ogle a woman’s husband right in front of her.”
Deborah spluttered, and Lucien gave a snort of laughter which he rapidly tried to turn into a cough.
“I… I wasn’t, Your Grace,” Deborah stammered. “Look at my references. Go on, they’re all good.”
“All from the gentlemen of the house, I see.”
“That’s a coincidence!”
“That as it may be,” Frances rose to her feet, and Deborah stayed sitting for a moment, quite stupidly, until she realized the situation she was in and bounced to her feet. “But let me be clear, Miss Swinbank. I know what it’s like to be ignored, to be passed over and disrespected. I am determined not to allowmyself to be treated in such a way again, and especially not by my own servants.”
Deborah wilted a little. “I… I didn’t mean anything by it, Your Grace. The… The duke is a very handsome man. I was justlooking.”
Frances sighed. “Then learn to be more subtle about your looking. The duke is a very handsome man, to be sure, but he ismine, my dear. You are not a good fit for our household, I think. Your references are good, and I’m fairly certain that you will find a suitable position sooner or later. Good day to you, Miss Swinbank.”
She held out Deborah’s references. The woman took them, red as a beet, and hurried out of the room without a word of goodbye or even an answering glance.
Frances sat back in her chair, letting out a long huff.
“Well,” she said at last, her voice a little shaky. “That was even more awful.”
Lucien made a strange, strangled noise, and Frances twisted around, amazed, and found that he waslaughing.
“You’re laughing! What is funny about this?”
“Whatisn’tfunny about it?” Lucien spluttered. “I thought you were going to bite her head off.”
“And why should I not? She wasflirtingwith you!”
“She said that I was a remarkably handsome man,” Lucien said, grinning wider. He leaned back in his seat, lacing his hands behind his head. “A man likes to feel complimented now and then.Youdo not give me any compliments on my looks.”
Frances felt herself blushing, much to her horror. Clearing her throat, she turned aside, leafing through the papers of references.
“Yes, well, you don’t need to think more highly of yourself than you already do.”
“I did not flirt back, you will notice.”
“Barely,” she retorted.
He chuckled, crossing one leg over the other. “I do not flirt with servants. My affairs are my own, but I can assure you that they are exclusively conducted with my social equals. I am not the sort of man to seduce a servant. Such a thing cannot be done, in my opinion. There’s too much inequality. So, I can assure you, my dear, that I won’t be troublesome with the servants.”
Frances eyed him for a moment, not sure whether he was joking or not. She decided that he was not.
“I liked Hannah,” she said at last.
“Yes, the plain girl who chattered constantly. I think she’d be a pleasant addition to our little family. And now,” he rose abruptly to his feet, tugging at his waistcoat to straighten it, “I suggest you instruct Mrs. Gray to impart the happy news to our new head housemaid. I have interviewed enough young hopefuls and so have you.”
“Well, there’s the whole day ahead of us yet. I planned to make myself useful. Aunt Emily is doing the flowers, and…”
