Chapter Thirteen
Supper the night before the wedding was quiet, not that Frances minded.
She preferred it to the meals where her mother made lists of all her shortcomings, or when her father was in a temper.
Her sole relief was that while Mary and her family were in residence, Iris and her husband had opted to spend the night at their London dwelling rather than her childhood home, where she wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to constantly remind Frances just how unwanted she truly was.
“Madame Estelle says the dress fit like a glove,” her mother interrupted the silence.
Old Frances would have taken it as a compliment, but now she wondered if it was her mother’s way of reminding her not to eat too much if she wanted to fit into her dress tomorrow.
Not that Frances overindulged, but Mama needed something to concern herself with.
“I’m not hungry. Might I be excused?” Frances stood and caught her father’s glare, like he would not rise until his meal was done, no matter who she thought she was now.
“An early night might be wise for those circles,” her mother agreed.
Frances hadn’t planned on staying up late trading advice and stories with her mother and sister, but she had thought tonight might be at least slightly different from every other night.
“Excellent idea. Goodnight then.” Frances smiled, careful to hide the tears that were forming, then headed for her bedroom.
There was an ache, knowing this was the last night she’d spend in the house she grew up in, but she also couldn’t wait to leave.
She wished she could take Mrs. Brown with her, perhaps Daisy, and the greenhouse as well.
But the house itself was filled with not-so-happy memories, and her parents…
she wasn’t sure she would ever feel the need to see them again.
“Miss Frances,” Mrs. Brown called when she reached the stairs.
“Would you like me to carry that out for you?” Frances offered, seeing the cake she was holding. It was small, with a rose made of icing on top.
“This isn’t for them,” Mrs. Brown stated. There was a slight defiance to her, but she also looked around to make sure no one was observing them.
“It’s for me?”
“It’s the least I could do, love. My only hope is that Lord Lark knows how lucky he is, and treats you as you deserve to be treated.”
Frances smiled, knowing that while Nathaniel knew exactly what he was getting and would treat her kindly, theirs would not be the loving marriage Mrs. Brown always wished for her. But Frances would be happy.
She’d make sure of it.
“I will miss you more than I can bear.”
“I have friends at Sutton House and Wiltshire Manor, so wherever you are, know that I’ll be there if you need me. Though, from what I hear, you couldn’t be joining a better family.” She said the last part in a whisper.
“And what would the staff say about this household?” Frances put her on the spot, though she did agree with their assessment of the Suttons. “I’ve heard you lie for Papa.”
“I’ve never said a bad word, or lied about you.” Mrs. Brown eyed her fiercely.
“Thank you, Mrs. Brown, for everything. For the cake today, and a lifetime of warmth and sympathy.”
“It has been my pleasure.”
Frances could have sworn the older woman was getting teary-eyed, just as she was.
“For what it’s worth, we talk or we keep our mouths shut, and each speaks volumes, but the Sutton family is well regarded by everyone who interacts with them, no matter the position or household.”
“Except for Papa.” Frances got a tiny slap on her hand for the impertinence, but she knew it was done with love.
“I’d bite my tongue if anyone asked about your parents, or glare menacingly if someone higher up dared speak against you, but the Sutton staff would defend that family at the cost of their jobs, their positions, and the best cuts of meat at the butchers.”
“That seems harsh.”
“Luckily, the Sutton family defends their staff with just as much gusto. I know the opinion below stairs never matters when it comes to searching for a husband, but I do think it should.”
“If I’d had a more traditional courtship, I would have come to the kitchens as soon as he left after dinner to get your opinion. Whatever your position, I value your opinion more than most.”
“You’re an excellent judge of character on your own, love.”
“There should be an underground network of cooks matching their employers together.”
“Who says there isn’t?” Mrs. Brown winked before returning to the kitchens.
Frances ate her cake while making sure everything was ready for tomorrow.
Her bridal outfit was hanging in the corner of her room, but it wasn’t just the wedding; she had to pack her entire life into the chest at the foot of her bed to be moved to Sutton House.
Not that she had more than a few day dresses and whatever Nathaniel had paid for when she went shopping with his sisters, but she had old journals where she’d recorded her progress on various plants, and the volumes through which she learnt more about them.
They belonged in her father’s study, on the single shelf that acted as their library, but she doubted anyone would notice they were missing.
The final item to pack was a piece of yellow fabric stitched into a flower, but she couldn’t decide if it should go in the chest with her other belongings, or pinned to the inside of her dress, so it would be with her as everything changed.
The delicate material had comforted her through lonely seasons and given her strength when Iris did her best to tear her down.
She decided to pin it to the dress, assuming she would need the encouragement come morning, then was down to her last bite of cake when there was a soft knock on the door.
She swallowed quickly before shouting, “Come in,” covering up the evidence, and getting under her covers.
Daisy entered and came to sit beside her on the bed. “Are you nervous?” she asked.
“I think terrified is an understatement.” Frances added a reassuring smile, as if that lessened her words.
“I think he’ll be kind. Not just for show.”
“I think so as well,” Frances agreed, fixing her sleeping bonnet so it held her hair, and covered the entirety of her mark.
“What will you do about your…condition?” Daisy swallowed awkwardly.
“Hide it.” What else could she do?
“Forever?”
“What is the alternative? We agree that he is kind, but it takes more than kindness to overlook something so unseemly. Mama was right; the marriage is precarious enough, even without something like this.”
Frances said the words matter-of-factly, as if it were a question of logic rather than a part of her very being, with every conclusion she drew breaking her heart a little further.
“I wasn’t very kind,” Daisy began quietly.
It was the first time she’d ever acknowledged it.
“You were young,” Frances defended.
“Not recently, I wasn’t,” she argued. “I was old enough to know better, to understand that I was being cruel and causing you pain, that it wasn’t fair…but I didn’t stop.”
“You have now.”
“You don’t have to be the older sister who forgives me everything.
I deeply regret not being a better sister to you.
I see the Suttons, how they all love and support each other, tease amongst themselves but defend the second someone else goes too far…
I wish I’d been more like that. Or realized it before I was losing you. I’m sorry. I’ll be better, Frances.”
“You already are, but I appreciate it. And you’ll never lose me. I’m right across town.” She assumed Nathaniel wasn’t going to send her off into the country to be rid of her.
“I’ll call on you as often as Mama allows,” Daisy assured her. “More if you can convince the Suttons to throw more soirees. Or maybe you can attend them.”
“I don’t dance,” Frances reminded her, though it wasn’t exactly true anymore.
“Of course you dance. You were just never given the chance to. Until now.”
Mary poked her head in. “Am I disturbing?”
“Not at all.” Frances beckoned her in, having more and more trouble containing her emotions as the night went on. Her mother had been disappointing, as usual, but Mrs. Brown and her sisters’ considerations were likely to undo her.
“I have to get back to George, but I wanted to make sure Mama gave you the talk?”
“I’ll see you both in the morning?” Daisy made her way to the door, her face flushed.
“Her time will come,” Mary dismissed it, but Daisy hadn’t looked so much embarrassed as like she didn’t want to have to pretend she didn’t know anything.
While Frances had spent many months over the past few years helping Mary take care of her children when they were newborns, Daisy had spent as much time with Iris, who, though childless, frequently made it a point to let Frances know how much her husband adored her.
“That has all been taken care of,” she somewhat lied. Mama had basically told her to lie there and let her husband take his pleasure without talking or making any sign that she was there. It was the one time Frances was glad her future husband had no interest in her.
“Ah, wonderful.” Mary looked relieved, but she made no effort to leave. “You should know, that no matter the reasons for the wedding, or how the marriage turns out, your children will make up for it. Taking care of them, running a household…that can be all the fulfillment you need.”
Frances’ heart dropped at the reminder that she would never have children. “You married for love,” she managed to say.
“True. Which had its own issues.” She was referring, of course, to how she had to turn down the marquess who was courting her in order to do it, and how Papa was staunchly against it. “But love is also a choice. Much like happiness.”
Frances looked at her sister, who truly believed her words. Mary had always had a positive outlook life, which could be rather annoying, but tonight, Frances appreciated it.
“Thank you for coming. And for this,” she told her.
“Of course. It’s not like I trust Mama to do it properly.”