Chapter 4
James
The following morning, James opened his door and poked his head out, looking up and down the hall. Finding it clear, he stepped out and made his way down to the breakfast room.
After the unfortunate meeting with Miss Frances Langley at the Farside ball, he had no wish to encounter her again. But of course, he had no choice.
He heard the clink of cutlery against a plate and paused, bracing himself. He stepped into the breakfast room.
He might not want to see the young woman again, but his stomach was growling most fiercely, and he was not going to keep himself from indulging in Aunt Eugenia’s breakfast. He’d already made excuses for dinner the previous day.
Fortunately, he found her at the breakfast table instead of Miss Langley.
He exhaled and slipped into his seat. Hot cross buns sat on the platter before him, and he grabbed one, slicing the fork through the soft dough and watching the steam rise in the air.
“I think it is considered polite to say good morning before one indulges in breakfast,” Aunt Eugenia teased.
“I beg your pardon. I was rather famished.”
“I can imagine. You didn’t come down for dinner yesterday.”
“Do you blame me?” he scoffed. “After my encounter with your houseguest?”
“I still do not understand what happened. You met at the ball?”
“Yes,” he said, buttering his roll. “I was on the balcony, observing and passing commentary to an acquaintance of mine. She overheard me and felt it necessary to issue a stern rebuke.”
Aunt Eugenia tilted her head to the side and drummed her fingers on the pristine tablecloth. “And pray, what were your observations? Knowing you, they were likely not kind.”
“They were not unkind,” he protested. “They were practical, reasonable, and based on past experiences. I merely said that a lot of the ladies were behaving like country girls, desperate to set their caps at a rich gentleman. I might have mentioned Bedfordshire, which is likely the cause of the offense.”
Aunt Eugenia shook her head. “Then I am not surprised that she was upset. You see, Frances is a country girl..”
James placed his knife down. “A country girl? She looked like a gently bred lady. Her gown and jewelry all spoke of a noble lady. I thought that you had taken in one of your friends to help with her debut, given all the experience you have with the girls.”
Aunt Eugenia took a sip of her tea, her pinky finger sticking up into the air. “Well, it is true that I have taken in a young girl, but she is not an acquaintance. She is a family member. A distant relation on the Langley side.”
“Lowey,” he echoed. “Like the Earl of Lowey? Your brother?”
“The very same. The original Langley estate in Bedfordshire still stands, though it no longer belongs to the family and hasn’t for centuries, but there are still family members who live there. They kept in touch more when my brother was still alive – for the connection.”
James sobered and placed his hand on hers.
Sometimes he forgot that his godmother’s brother had passed away.
He had barely ever met the man, and they had never been close.
All he had known was that the Earl was the sort of man who would spend money quicker than he could earn it, and it was well known that he had used his daughters to attempt to rectify his mistakes by marrying them off to rich titled men.
“And Frances is a descendant of the family?”
“Indeed. Her father and I are second cousins. I knew her mother very well. She was not a blood relation. She married into the family, but I adored her. I told her that I would ensure her daughter’s safety, but circumstances got in the way.
Frances has had a difficult life, so I’ve decided to take her in and find her a good husband. ”
Aunt Eugenia paused for a moment, her thumb and index finger resting on the edge of her roll as she spun it before her, as though gathering her thoughts.
“I made a lot of mistakes with the girls. I should have protected them from their father, especially Marianne. After my brother died, it was up to me to make sure she was settled, and I did not listen to her. I should have. I should have done right by her. This time, I will make sure to do right by Frances. I will not let her go back to Bedfordshire, where she will be married off to who knows who, to live in poverty.”
“So she is a charity case,” James said flatly.
“I beg your pardon?” a voice came from beside him, and both he and Aunt Eugenia turned around.
Frances stood in the doorway, her face thunderous. She was dressed in a light pink muslin dress with a tulle overlay that looked lovely against her skin, which was far ruddier and sun-kissed than it had been the previous night.
Her eyes blazed with anger, and her shoulders were pulled back, pushing her chest out in a way that would have been delightful if she didn’t look so angry.
“I am not here seeking charity. I came here thinking that I would work as a companion. I did not ask to have a debut. I did not ask to attend the balls. I came here to work. I am grateful to Aunt Eugenia for what she is doing for me, but I did not come here asking for that, nor would I ever.”
“I beg your pardon,” James offered. “I did not mean to upset you.”
“No, you did not,” she replied. “You only—no, you did not mean to, but you did. You seem to make that a habit.”
“If you are referring to yesterday—”
“I am,” she scoffed.
“Excuse me, both of you,” Aunt Eugenia interjected. “I would like a quiet, peaceful breakfast, so if the two of you could refrain from bickering, I would much appreciate it. Come, have some hot cross buns. It is the season, and before we know it, we will not be able to have them anymore.”
Frances sat beside him, and he looked her up and down.
He’d been right in his initial assumptions about her. He hadn’t meant to be unkind, of course, but he knew a great many girls from the country who would set their caps at any gentleman who crossed their path.
He had come to know these kinds of girls.
He hadn’t thought her one, but many of the young girls at the ball had been exactly that sort.
Perhaps not country girls as such, but certainly with the same attitude and keen instincts.
With that astute skill that helped them pick out the most eligible bachelor and sink their claws into him.
Of course, he couldn’t fault them. Their entire lives were built around finding a suitable husband.
He had seen this in his own home. His two younger sisters had been turned into proper society princesses.
They had learned to dance every dance imaginable to man to perfection.
They had each learned two languages, watercolors, embroidery, reciting poetry, singing, even if, like his poor sister Sophia, the good Lord had bestowed not a hint of talent in that regard.
Still, he had been wrong to say what he said to her. Even though he couldn’t have known that she was actually a low-born country girl.
They finished their meal in relative silence, interrupted only by Aunt Eugenia making plans for Frances. Plans that he was somehow now involved in. She intended to take Frances to the theatre the upcoming Saturday, and he was to accompany them.
James could not decline. He was a guest, after all, so he agreed. He also agreed to go to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens the following week.
God willing, his house would be repaired by then. But for the time being, he agreed to that as well.
Frances, meanwhile, spoke little and focused on her food.
After breakfast, James spent the afternoon at White’s. After spending several hours placing wagers, playing billiards, and throwing darts, he returned in a somewhat better mood.
He ascended the stairs and was about to make his way to his chamber when he was met by a most peculiar sight.
Sitting in the library was none other than Frances.
However, she wasn’t reading. She was sitting next to one of the maids he had seen during one of his previous visits. He paused and listened.
Quite the bluestocking, he thought with amusement.
“So what does this letter say?” Frances asked.
The maid paused for a moment, then said, “D. It says D.”
“That’s right,” Frances said, her tone very encouraging. “And then this one, the second one. We already learned it.” She looked up, and he saw her profile as her mouth puckered up, as if to shape the letter. “O.”
The maid hesitated before pronouncing the letter.
Frances beamed. “That’s right. And the last letter is a new letter. We haven’t learned it yet. It’s G. It makes this sound.”
She pronounced it carefully, and the maid repeated it.
“So what do those three letters say together?”
“Dog,” the maid said with some difficulty.
Still, Frances cheered and clapped.
Despite himself, James found himself clapping as well. Both young women turned to him at once.
The maid gasped and jumped out of her seat, clutching the book to her chest.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I beg your pardon,” she said, then rushed past him through the door leading to the servants’ stairs.
“That was most unkind,” Frances huffed. “You should not shame her in such a way.”
“Shame her?” James echoed, quite astonished by this accusation. “I did not shame her. I applauded her.”
“You are our employer’s godson. You are a duke. You appeared, and she knows she’s not supposed to be in the library. She is mortified. You should have walked away when you realized what was happening.”
“If she isn’t supposed to be in the library, why was she there then?” he asked, now feeling defensive.
“I discovered that she does not know how to read, so I offered to teach her. It has been made very clear to me by the housekeeper that it would be impossible for me to visit her upstairs in her chambers because I am a guest, and only servants are allowed up there. So this was the only possible option. Unless you would have me teach her out in the street under a lamp?”
He raised his hands. “I meant no offense. I will apologize to her.”
“No,” she said. “Do not approach her. Do not apologize to her. Do not treat her any differently than you would otherwise. That is the worst thing you could do for her. You do not understand anything about commoners, do you?”
He wanted to defend himself and let her know that he knew a lot about commoners. He employed many of them, after all.
But then he realized that she was right. He didn’t know these people. He knew Franklin, but Franklin had been in the family’s employ since he was very young. He and James had grown up together. He was something of a confidant.
But that was an exception.
James knew next to nothing about his other employees. What about his tenants? He had never considered whether a tenant was embarrassed or proud or happy or sad. These were not considerations that had come to him.
Once again, he felt quite abashed.
What was it about this young woman that found him in such peculiar situations time and again?
She was holding a mirror up to his face, and he had to admit, he didn’t necessarily like what he saw.
On the other hand, when he looked at her, even though she vexed him, even though she took him to task most severely, he liked what he saw.
She was pretty to look at, though her temper was quite formidable.
“Why are you looking at me as though I were a mare at market?” she asked.
“I wasn’t,” he replied. “I was contemplating your words. I shall leave the poor maid alone.”
“Good,” she said. “Then we are in agreement. Now, if you will excuse me.”
She brushed past him, her upper arm grazing his elbow. She was about a head shorter than him, something he hadn’t noticed before.
For someone so short and of such ordinary upbringing, she was quite extraordinary and larger than life. And James knew that such a combination was most perilous to one’s peace.