Chapter Twelve
“This is pointless,” Nathaniel told his grandmother after another family came to greet them at the engagement ball. He fumed, but she kept smiling and waving across the room at new arrivals and old friends. “It’s just an opportunity for them all to gawk at us.”
“Precisely,” she agreed, completely unbothered.
“And where is Miss Plimpton?” he asked.
“I believe she arrived earlier with her family and went upstairs with your sisters to finish getting ready.”
“She’s here?”
“Of course. Your grandfather graciously volunteered to give her parents a more in-depth tour of the house, but I fear they will be returning soon.”
“How inappropriate would it be if I went upstairs to find out what is taking them so long?”
“Incredibly inappropriate and impertinent. This is your life; being watched. Coveted and admired or hated and envied, you’ve grown up with it.
But it is Frances’ first experience being anything other than a fly on the wall, hidden behind her overbearing mother and powerless sister. Society can be cruel.”
“Grandmama,” he admonished her for her assessment of his future family, though he found no fault with it.
The rest of her words, however, gave him pause.
He was so used to women vying for his attention that it never occurred to him that Frances might not have wanted this, even under the perfect circumstances.
“I’m old enough that I can speak my mind, especially to my grandson,” she pointed out.
Mr. and Mrs. Plimpton returned from their tour and seemed surprised that so many guests had arrived.
They came straight for Nathaniel, and though he was currently engaged to be married—to their daughter nonetheless—he felt like he was the only single man at a party full of women about to reach the shelf.
“Where’s my daughter?” Mr. Plimpton demanded, as though Nathaniel had tossed her aside, as he’d always expected him to do.
“She’s—”
A hush that spread through the room, so Nathaniel turned to the staircase, half-expecting to see the king for all the buzz in the air.
Instead, he saw Frances, and she took his breath away.
Her dress was blue, like her eyes, the first thing he’d noticed when he met her.
It was better tailored than anything he’d seen her in before, which did wonders for her figure.
Her hair was loose but clipped to the side, and she looked like she could compete with any diamond of the first water, but she also looked like herself.
Or the way he imagined Frances would look if she weren’t hiding behind her fear and her family. Or was it her fear of her family?
Frances smiled when she found him in the crowd, and Nathaniel felt the sight of it in his chest—and much lower, where he had no business thinking of her. Not like that.
“Fr—” he started, but her parents, who hadn’t been struck dumb by the sight of her as he had, interrupted him.
“Finally,” Mr. Plimpton exclaimed with a plastered-on smile. He put his hand on his daughter’s arm and half-dragged her over to where they’d been standing to greet the guests. Mrs. Plimpton did the same to Daisy with only slightly less force.
Grandmama called for the room’s attention.
“We’ve asked you all here to celebrate the engagement of our beloved grandson Nathaniel Sutton to the wonderful Miss Frances Plimpton.
” She raised her champagne flute for a toast. “We were almost resigned to watch him live a heartbreakingly lonely life, but Miss Plimpton arrived and brought light into his darkness. So, without further ado, here’s to the future Lady Lark! ”
Nathaniel was grateful his grandmother spoke before the Plimptons could, but he wasn’t comfortable with her lying.
He turned to Frances, to see her reaction, but she quickly downed her champagne, looking terrified, and he doubted she’d heard a word his grandmother said.
Her father had yet to loosen his grip on her, though Nathaniel couldn’t tell if it was a warning, or his version of a fatherly hug for the crowds.
Either way, Frances was shaking, and the fact that all eyes in the room were on her wasn’t helping.
Nathaniel barely registered his intention before he’d made his way over and was standing in front of her, his hand outstretched, waiting for hers. Frances hesitated a moment longer before taking it.
His grandmother did not falter. “The happy couple will now open the dance.”
Frances followed him to the dance floor, where they were quickly surrounded by other couples.
He noticed that his siblings had strategically placed themselves so Frances would mostly dance with friendly faces, which meant they’d also noticed her discomfort.
Hopefully, no one else was looking as close as they were.
“You are breathtaking,” Nathaniel said, holding Frances slightly closer than he would have if they weren’t engaged, but he could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. “That’s why they’re all staring at you.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was polite. “But they have a great many reasons to stare at me.”
“Let them. Most of the people here don’t matter. Their opinions, their looks, their words mean nothing.”
“That’s easy for you to say from the top of the hill, looking down at them.”
“You are up here with me,” he reminded her, knowing it was the wrong thing to say before the words even crossed his lips. “But yes, I grew up in this world under the impression that the opinions that matter most are those of my family and myself.”
“Do you have a very high opinion of yourself?”
He scanned her face, but she wasn’t mocking him. There was guilt, or perhaps shame, mixed with a genuine interest in his answer.
“Not nearly as high as they say. Or as I probably should.”
“How come?”
“This is deep territory for a simple dance.”
“Forgive me, I was simply curious. My sister Iris has always believed herself to be the most wonderful creature on the planet, and for the most part, the people around her agreed. I wondered if her conviction convinced others, or if their beliefs influenced hers.”
“And I disproved your theory?”
“Perhaps there is no correlation.”
“I must admit, I thought rather highly of myself in my youth. It wasn’t until five or six years ago that I changed my mind.”
“Because?”
“I went out into the world, settled into my ways, and realized that if I were a new acquaintance, I would desperately hate myself.”
“Are you saying that so I argue and compliment you?” she asked.
“I’m not that cunning,” he argued, but when Frances looked up at him, he hoped she saw that he wasn’t just teasing or seeking compliments; he was being more vulnerable than he had been in years. Than he ever wanted to be again.
“I don’t think you’re half as terrible as you pretend to be.”
She said the words with intensity and honestly, as if she’d confessed her undying love for him.
Clearly, when Frances meant something, she conveyed it with all the feeling necessary for her message to sink in.
It was disconcerting, and powerful, especially coming from someone who tried so hard to take up the least amount of space possible.
Nathaniel wondered if they had completely misjudged her.
“You think I’m terrible?”
He relished the blush that crept into her cheeks, but she swallowed and continued as if she was unaware.
“I think you think you are. My sister might call you a rake, but all in all, I think you may be the nicest man I’ve ever met.”
Again, with her saying words and meaning them.
He wanted to contradict her, but wasn’t certain he could win this argument against her. Not tonight, when she was dressed like that and smiling at him in a way that nearly melted his cold heart.
“I’m sorry I’ve misled you. Remind me to introduce you to more men,” he teased instead. “Though, on second thought, there may be benefits to having you believe I am beyond reproach.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, my lord.”
“Nathaniel,” he reminded her.
“Of course.”
“I try to emulate the men I respect, like my father and my grandfather, though I fall abysmally short most days.”
“I think that’s honorable. As long as you keep trying.”
Frances was so earnest that Nathaniel felt even guiltier for his sins than he originally had, but the dance ended, and she retreated to her parents while he was swept up by old school friends and acquaintances congratulating him as if they hadn’t been making jokes at his expense all week at White’s.
Who would have known the secret to having a full dance card was to be engaged to someone whose name didn’t appear on it? His first name, that is, since James Sutton was the first to put his down.
Frances had felt like the princess everyone said she looked like while she was in the room with Nathaniel’s sisters, but the moment she reached the top of the stairs, her fears and nerves returned.
By the time she was halfway down the staircase, she had half a mind to turn around and barricade herself in one of the many rooms upstairs.
But then Nathaniel’s eyes locked on her and, for a moment, she felt like someone a man might actually want.
That feeling disappeared the second her father grabbed her and whispered a reminder of how important this was for the family, for Daisy’s future, and he wouldn’t let her throw it away by hiding in a bedroom all night.
She suspected he added the bit about Daisy to make sure she would listen, but there was something in his tone that worried her.
The little she heard of Lady Wiltshire’s speech just made her feel even guiltier.