Chapter 5
Frances
“Hurry up, Frances!” Aunt Eugenia called from downstairs.
Frances took a deep breath and glanced at the mirror one more time.
She was dressed in a pomona green gown that looked lovely against her hair. Clara, her new maid, had applied a layer of crushed white pearl powder again and done up her face.
She didn’t feel like herself, but she knew she couldn’t decline.
“You look lovely,” Clara complimented.
“Thank you, although I do wish I didn’t have to go. The idea of sitting through a play with the Duke of Somerset is daunting.”
Clara chuckled. “He is really not a terrible man. A little closed off and reserved, but generally a decent fellow.”
“Are you not upset that he interrupted our lesson?” Frances asked.
“No, I was more mortified that he found out that I do not know how to read. The ton already looks down on my kind.”
“Your kind is my kind,” Frances assured, not liking that the maid spoke as though they were not the same. “I am of common birth as well.”
“But you are to be elevated. That’s more than most of us can hope for.”
Frances paused. She hadn’t been terribly grateful to her aunt for her attempts to match her up with somebody. Mostly because that wasn’t how she had imagined her life. Still, hearing it from Clara, she realized that she had been ungrateful.
“I just do not care for him, that is all,” she said. “He acts all high and mighty, as though he is better than us.”
“That is how his kind is raised,” Clara said gently. “He has always been polite to the servants, as far as I know, which is not something that can be said for every nobleman.”
“Indeed,” Frances acknowledged. “Have you had bad experiences?”
“Not personally, but I know of several others who have. The footman, Michael, has told us the most horrid stories about his prior employment. Being yelled at, being blamed for things his employer did wrong, and so on.”
“Who was his previous employer?” Frances asked.
“The late Earl of Lowey. He was not a pleasant man to work for. Most of the servants who work here used to work for him. I have always worked for Lady Eugenia, and it has always been a pleasure, but the same cannot be said for the others.”
“I see,” she murmured. “I had heard some terrible things about him. I know he attempted to marry one of my cousins off to an elderly duke.”
“He did, because he was terrible with his money and sought a rich husband for her. And the richest are often the oldest. Poor Lady Evelyn. I mean, poor Duchess. She was so fortunate to find love with her current husband. All of your cousins were.”
“They seem like kind girls,” Frances said.
“They are. None of them expected to make good matches. It wasn’t something they were aiming for, and I think they have all maintained their individuality. They all have their own causes, too.”
“They do?”
Frances had not seen her cousins since the ball, though they had struck her as quite impressive and kind, especially Marianne, who was closest to her in age.
“Oh yes. Lady Evelyn, for example.” Clara paused, shaking her head as if chiding herself. “I must stop calling her that.”
“No, please do not. Whenever you say the Duchess of Sinclair or the Marchioness of Ravenscar, I do not know which you are talking about. When it is just the two of us, please use their first names,” Frances begged. She had a difficult time memorizing people’s titles as it was.
“Very well. Lady Evelyn started a club for women. They are doing good work, like helping the climbing boys, and they have other ventures as well. As for Lady Charlotte, she has worked most diligently to open schools for children, to teach them to read and write—something I wish I had. And Lady Marianne has set out to help women who find themselves in unfortunate situations. You know the sort. When a young ladies believes herself in love only to find the gentleman less than willing to step up to his obligations when…” She said nothing further.
Frances nodded. She might be young, but she was not na?ve. Her cousins truly sounded impressive. Compared to them, who was she? It was no wonder the Duke of Somerset looked down on her.
“Do not look so Friday-faced,” Clara said. “You will be most impressive too, in your own way.”
“That is kind of you, but I was not raised for that kind of life. I will be happy beyond measure if I find a baronet who will marry me.” Frances squeezed her hand and then made her way downstairs.
Aunt Eugenia already stood at the bottom of the steps, tapping her foot impatiently.
She was dressed in a regal blue gown that looked to be from a previous era.
A turban sat on her head, and sapphires dangled from her ears.
A fur scarf and a red coat hung around her shoulders, even though it was warm outside.
“There you are,” she said. “Here, put on your pelisse. We are going to meet your cousins there.” Then she turned away. “James! Please do not be late.”
The Duke stepped into the hall from the library.
Frances paused for a moment and took him in. He wore a black jacket and, underneath, a sapphire blue waistcoat that brought out the color of his eyes. A pair of black pantaloons hugged his legs. They were so tight, she knew they had been soaked in water.
The Duke eyed her, his gaze running up and down her body in a way that made heat rise in her cheeks.
“You look handsome,” she said, then immediately regretted the words. She blushed further at the impropriety. “I mean, you look well.”
“Thank you,” he replied with a slight smirk. “As do you, Miss Langley.”
“Well then,” Aunt Eugenia said, “let’s go.”
They made their way out to the carriage.
Frances sat next to Aunt Eugenia, while the Duke sat across from her.
Throughout the journey, Aunt Eugenia chattered on and on about the latest on dit.
A lady who had been caught with a man who was not her husband, though nobody could figure out what the initials the scandal sheets liked to use stood for.
A lord who’d reneged on a business agreement resulting in a fist fight, as well as the latest edition of Ackerman’s - most of which Frances knew nothing of.
After a while, silence fell, and she was almost grateful for it. Until the Duke spoke up.
“So, Miss Langley, do you know much about theatre?”
Frances knew immediately what he was trying to imply: that someone like her from the country had never attended the theatre.
Well, she would set him straight.
“I do, in fact. There is a theatre not far from my home. I have attended a multitude of plays.”
“And what is your favorite?” he asked.
She paused. “I enjoy many of the usual fare. Shakespeare is always very popular.”
“I see. So you like Romeo and Juliet?”
She caught the teasing note in his voice.
Shifting in her seat, she rolled her shoulders back.
“You must think because I am a young lady, I only care for such romantic farces. Though if you ask me, Romeo and Juliet is by no means romantic, given the ending. But no, I prefer A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
That is my favorite, followed by Much Ado About Nothing. ”
“But not Hamlet?” he asked.
“Have you seen Hamlet now?” Aunt Eugenia chimed in, brows rising in surprise. “The last time I tried to take you to see Hamlet, you refused to watch such pretentious fare, as you called it.”
Frances chuckled. Leave it to her aunt to humble him.
“I have not seen it,” he answered, regret lacing his voice. “I will, one of these days. Although I suppose I have enough difficulties in my life, familial discord and all, so I do not need to watch it in addition on the stage.”
Frances wondered what he was talking about. She didn’t know much about his personal life. All she knew was that his London townhouse in Saint James had caught fire recently, leaving him somewhat homeless. Of course, she knew he had a country seat, but she didn’t know where it was.
“What about your country home?” she asked. “Is there not a theatre nearby?”
He smiled. “My country seat in Somerset has a rather splendid theatre. You may have heard of it.”
“I have not,” she replied. “But then again, I do not have access to a carriage at my merest whim to go wherever I desire.”
“Oh, neither did James,” Aunt Eugenia said.
“Until he came of age, his father was quite strict with him, wasn’t he?
So much so that I had to interfere at times.
Can you believe the old Duke would not even let him have a pony?
A pony! Any young gentleman must have access to a horse so he can learn to hunt and ride properly.
I rectified that situation by buying him a pony myself. You rode on it once.”
“I did?” Frances asked.
“She did?” the Duke asked at the same time.
“Yes,” Aunt Eugenia replied. “I bought the pony when you were twelve, James. Because of how your father was, he had to remain with me. Artemis was his name.”
“Artemis,” Frances said. “I don’t remember that name. My father spoke of a horse at your stable that he liked very much.”
“Oh, your father was ever so jealous. One of the last times he came and brought your mother to visit me at my seaside home, he tried to buy Artemis from me. I made it clear to him that the horse was not for sale, and even if it was, he would not be able to afford it. He did not like that much. He does not like me.”
Frances could imagine that her aunt was the sort of person who spoke her mind, and that was exactly the kind of woman her father did not care for. Which was ironic, because her stepmother always spoke her mind, while her mother had been the quiet sort. And yet he had married Isabella.
“In any case, we let you ride a few rounds on the horse. You were only two years old. Of course, one of the grooms rode on the horse with you. You see, the two of you have something in common already, beyond just my lovely self.”
Frances looked at the Duke, who smirked at her.
Before anything else could be said, they arrived at the theatre. The coachman opened the door and helped Aunt Eugenia out, but before he could assist Frances, the Duke slipped past and offered his hand. Quite the gentleman.
“I am perfectly capable of exiting a carriage on my own,” she replied sharply and took the first step down.
However, she had underestimated the space between the steps and thus slipped and tumbled forward.
Had it not been for the Duke, she would have fallen flat on her face.
As it stood, he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around her, catching her before she fell.
Then he gently set her down on the ground.
“I see you are very skilled at exiting carriages,” he drawled.
“I could not see properly. It is dark,” she said.
That was not entirely wrong. It was getting dark outside, but not so dark that she couldn’t see the step.
“What are the two of you doing back there?” Aunt Eugenia called. She was almost at the entrance of the Drury Lane Theatre. “Come now, dears.”
The Duke offered his arm to Frances, but she shook her head. “I can make it on my own,” she insisted.
“If you are certain. These cobblestones can be quite tricky,” he said.
“Contrary to what you believe, I am not entirely helpless.”
“I never suggested that you are,” he replied, and followed her into the theatre.
Frances had been worried that the next two weeks would pass by slowly, but now she realized she had been quite the goose. Truly, she wasn’t even sure how she was going to endure the next two hours, let alone the next two weeks.