Chapter 10
Frances
“And nobody caught your fancy?” Aunt Eugenia asked the following afternoon.
Frances looked up, a small smile on her lips. “There were several nice gentlemen, but no, none I found incredibly enticing.”
“Not even James?” her aunt asked. The jest was clear in her tone.
“Aunt Eugenia, please. James does not care for me. Just because we were stuck together in a horrible situation does not mean that the two of us will suddenly discover our deep love for one another. He barely even speaks to me.”
In fact, today he wasn’t speaking to her at all because he wasn’t there.
James had hurried away to his unexpected meeting as he’d told her, although she was certain that he did not mind missing Aunt Eugenia’s tea party.
He hadn’t looked exactly crushed at the prospect of missing it.
In fact, Frances could not imagine him in this crowd.
Aunt Eugenia had invited a number of her friends, who had in turn brought their granddaughters and grandsons.
A merry group mingled around the drawing room, and some had wandered out into the rest of the house.
“Well, well, I was just thinking it would have been nice if the two of you had found your way to each other. Imagine, you would’ve been a duchess!”
Frances shook her head. “I am sorry to dash your dreams, but you shall not manage to make a match of me with some titled man as you did with my cousins.”
“It would’ve been a record. All the matchmakers in London would’ve been envious, although they already are,” Aunt Eugenia said, but then moved away toward two newly arrived ladies her age, and the three of them took themselves off to a corner to play cards.
“Miss Langley,” a voice called, and Frances turned.
She smiled when she recognized the young gentleman from the previous evening. The Baron Blatt. She’d enjoyed her dance with him very much, but hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.
“How lovely to see you,” she said.
“And you. Lady Wexford told me about the tea and invited me. I hope you do not mind.”
“I do not mind in the least,” she assured, and saw Marianne, who was standing in the opposite corner, smiling at her.
“I thoroughly enjoyed my dance with you last night,” Lord Blatt added with a smile. “You are very light on your feet.”
Frances chuckled and quickly put one hand in front of her mouth, the way she had been taught by Aunt Eugenia. “You need not pay me Spanish coin, My Lord. I know very well that I dance with as much grace as a cow at pasture.”
Lord Blatt swallowed, his lips curling up slightly as if he was trying to be polite but didn’t find her jest funny.
James would’ve laughed. He had that sense of humor.
Why am I thinking of him now, of all times? I must stop this foolishness.
“Well, Lady Wexford warned me that you did not know how to dance, so I was prepared for an uncomfortable encounter for my toes, but I was delighted to find that wasn’t so.”
“Well, the good news for your toes is that there will be no dancing this afternoon. Only tea and cake and…” Frances looked around. “Oh no, I suppose there will not be music either.”
“No,” Lord Blatt said. “It seems not. But I could change that if you’d like.”
Frances smiled at him. “I would.”
“Will you accompany me?” he asked.
Instantly, her smile faded. “I beg your pardon, but I do not know how to play music well. I’ve always wanted to learn, but I haven’t had the chance.”
He shook his head. “No, no, I meant accompany me to the pianoforte.” He motioned to the instrument, and she followed him, feeling rather foolish.
He sat down at the pianoforte and opened the lid before placing his fingers on the keys. A moment later, a beautiful melody emerged. She stood, her hands braced on the edge as she watched him.
He was a pleasant man and lovely company, but she wasn’t interested in him. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on—a solemnity that bordered on arrogance. Or maybe it was simply because he hadn’t laughed at her joke earlier.
However, now she enjoyed his company, and she enjoyed his playing even more. A few people turned their way and smiled appreciatively.
Lord Blatt glanced up at her. “It seems my hunch that music was needed was quite correct.”
“It seems that way. I always wished I could play.”
“It is not too late,” he said. “You are very young. And I can tell from the way you have picked up dancing in just a few days that you are a very quick study. I would be happy to teach you myself.”
Frances smiled, knowing that wasn’t going to happen, but she appreciated the offer. She was considering asking Aunt Eugenia if she could take lessons.
Just then, the front door opened. She hadn’t seen the butler make his way to the door, so she knew it wasn’t someone who had just arrived.
Since she and Aunt Eugenia were the only people who would enter without knocking, other than James, it did not come as a surprise when his figure appeared in the doorway.
He looked quite done up from when he had left that morning. His usually combed hair stood on end, and he had not buttoned his jacket properly. His cravat was slightly askew as well.
He paused and looked around, his lips slightly parted, as though he had forgotten about the tea party. He cleared his throat and nodded as he walked into the room, discreetly straightening his cravat and running a hand through his hair.
What had left him looking so harried? Frances wondered. He had told her that he had a meeting with a business associate, and he had expected it to last into the evening, so it was odd that he was already here.
She wasn’t entirely sure if she was glad that he was here or if it bothered her.
He made his way around the room, but she felt his eyes drift to her now and then.
“The Duke of Somerset. I forgot that he is your aunt’s godson. Is he staying here right now?” Lord Blatt asked as the piece he’d been playing ended and he started another.
“He is. There was a fire in his house.”
“I hope it wasn’t the vagrants who attacked poor Mr. Robinson.”
Her throat tightened. She did not like hearing these people being called vagrants and other unkind names. Most of those who had been there had genuine grievances. Some were acting out and being violent, which she did not condone. However, one should not forget the cause of their anger.
Still, she knew better than to start an argument with the Baron right now.
“No, I believe it was a mishap in the kitchen,” she said.
“Oh well, that is good. I do hope that the authorities will put a stop to those ridiculous protests.”
“Did you vote for the Corn Bill?” she asked.
Lord Blatt looked up at her and shook his head.
“No. I only became a baron last year, and even if I had been, I likely would not have voted for it. One must not provoke the masses. They may be poor and uneducated, but they outnumber us by a large margin, and if they ever decided to put their heads together and revolt, we might die the way poor Marie Antoinette and King Louis did. And I, for one, am rather attached to my head.”
He shrugged while continuing to play. “Although I imagine they would not come for a baron and a lady such as yourself, so we should be fine regardless.”
“And that is all that matters,” Frances said flatly.
He nodded enthusiastically, not catching her tone.
“Lord Blatt,” a voice called, and she noted that James had walked over to them. “Trying to entice a young lady with your tolerable musical skills?”
Lord Blatt looked up, slightly wounded. “Your Grace, it pains me to hear that you think my playing is only tolerable. I have been complimented on my skill more than once.”
“I am certain you have. Although was that inside your own drawing room or outside? Family members tend to have a rather high opinion of anything one does. My grandmother once complimented me on some needlework that one could only call abysmal.”
“Perhaps she was a lover of abstract art,” Frances interjected, disliking the way that he was talking to the Baron, even though she had no fondness for the man.
“She preferred landscapes and such.”
Lord Blatt stopped playing and placed his hands on his knees. “Is there something else I could play that would please you more?” he asked.
James shrugged his shoulders. “No. In fact, I prefer silence.”
“If you prefer silence, there are many rooms in this house that are not currently being used for entertainment,” Frances pointed out. “You are being quite rag-mannered.”
Their eyes met, and she saw a flicker in his. At first, she wasn’t quite sure what it was, but then she saw him glance at the Baron and then back at her. And it was clear—that flicker she had seen was jealousy.
James was jealous of Lord Blatt, but why? He had barely even talked to her in days.
“You are quite right, Miss Langley,” he said, before turning on his heel and walking away.
“I do beg your pardon, Lord Blatt,” Frances offered. “I am sure His Grace did not mean to offend.”
Lord Blatt raised his hands. “It is quite all right. He has received bad news about his estate. Goodness, I am only grateful that my father did not think it a good idea to place half of our estate into a trust with a bank.”
Frances’s ears perked up. A bank? His estate in a bank?
“What do you mean?”
“But do not trouble yourself with such things. That is the perk of being a woman—not having to worry about boring financial details. As long as the budget for the household balances, that is all that matters. We men will take care of the rest.”
His condescending tone raised her hackles, but she let it go. She was too intrigued by what he had said. And too mad at James’s behavior.
The cheek! How dare he act jealous? How dare he barge into their perfectly pleasant afternoon with his Friday-faced self?
“Would you excuse me?” she said and walked out, following James.
She found him in the library. He had a book open in front of him, but he wasn’t reading. She knew this because the book was upside down.
“Are you enjoying your thrilling read?” she asked. “What a picture you make.”
He looked up, noted that the book was the wrong way around, and put it down. “No, actually, I wasn’t. I was waiting for you.”
“For me? How did you know I was going to—”
“Because you cannot help yourself,” he interrupted. “I have thoroughly missed your razor-sharp wit this afternoon, and I am pleased that you did not hesitate to give me a few well-deserved lashes even in front of company.”
“Well-deserved lashes? You were very rude to the Baron.”
“Yes, well, if he had not been bothering us with his—”
“He played quite beautifully.”
He raised his hand. “Regardless. Now that you are here, I must tell you something. The repairs in my townhouse have been completed, and I will return there in two days.”
Frances paused. This was quicker than expected. The last time she’d spoken to him about this, she thought that he was going to stay longer than a fortnight. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“I see. So you will be leaving.”
“I am,” he said. “However, I will not be leaving alone.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “Well, I had hoped that you would take your valet back with you and not leave him here.”
“You misunderstand.” He shook his head. “When I said I was not leaving alone, I was not talking about my valet. I was talking about you. I have decided to take my godmother up on her offer. I will make you my wife.”