Chapter Sixteen
By the time it got dark outside, most of the guests had gone home, leaving only the Plimptons and the Suttons.
Frances had drank more champagne than she’d intended, but Nathaniel’s sisters were quite skilled at shielding her so she could have as much as she desired, without doing anything she shouldn’t.
While she relaxed with each departing guest, she also grew nervous.
Once they were all gone, it would be her and Nathaniel, alone.
She hadn’t bothered getting details about the wedding night from Mary, because her marriage wasn’t a real one.
Which she assumed meant nothing would happen, but she also knew one could annul a marriage if it wasn’t consummated.
Was that something they could lie about, or would people somehow know?
She tried not to think about it, but it definitely contributed to her champagne intake.
“Darling?” Lady Wiltshire came and took both her hands.
“Lady Wiltshire.”
“Edith, please. Or Grandmama. Perhaps that would be better.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Frances argued.
“Call me what you wish, but as far as I’m concerned, you are my newest granddaughter.”
“That’s very kind,” Frances managed, but warm tears filled her eyes at how welcoming the Suttons had been.
“Edward and I are retiring, but we want you to enjoy the festivities for as long as you’d like. We’re taking Grace, Abigail, Rebecca, and Harrison as well, but I’m afraid I have little control over the older ones these days.”
“Thank you…Grandmama,” Frances said, quite certain that the woman had way more control than she implied.
“Welcome to the family.” She kissed her forehead before leaving, and Frances got that feeling in her chest, like when she watched Nathaniel with his siblings. She felt loved.
Rebecca and Elizabeth, with a sleepy Abigail in tow, came and hugged her before going to bed, as did Grace, though she promised to come back down as soon as her grandmother fell asleep.
Theodore came over with Harrison, and both kissed her hand before their retreat, while James bowed before her as if she were a queen.
“I do not envy your task, but I am grateful you accepted it. He’s the best man I know, but sometimes he forgets that. Don’t let him.”
As for her family, other than Mary, who’d left earlier with the children, they waited until the last non-Sutton was gone, then they left, with only Daisy bothering to come for a long, tight embrace.
It was the first of its kind that Frances could remember from her younger sister, but by the end of it, both struggled to keep their composure, knowing things would never be the same again.
“Are you ready?” Nathaniel sounded nervous when he found her on the steps, watching her family leave.
Frances was not ready. She doubted she ever would be. And the fact that they hadn’t even been near each other since the ceremony wasn’t helping. But he was here, and he offered her his arm, and how could she not go with him?
“How was your evening?” Nathaniel asked once they were alone in the carriage. Frances’ first thought when he climbed in was that they needed a chaperone, but then she remembered he was her husband, and she would never need a chaperone again. She could even chaperone Daisy.
“Very pleasant,” she told him. “Your family was my favorite part.” She smiled, because as he’d promised, they were now her family too. “How was yours?”
“Yes, quite.”
She got the feeling he was trying to answer without lying to her.
“I saw you with Abigail and Georgie.”
“My mother used to say children gravitate towards me because I act like I am their age,” Nathaniel admitted.
“I think that’s an admirable quality.”
He’d never mentioned his mother to her before, at least not that she could recall.
“You’ll find yourself in the minority,” he warned.
“I seem to prefer it that way,” she said without thinking. “You won over my sister,” she added before he could comment.
“Mrs. Chisholm was surprisingly easy to get along with.”
“Compared to other Plimptons?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“In general,” he said. “I learnt early on that you can’t always lump families together. Yours is no exception, with some more similar than others.”
“Iris was always…the way she is, for as long as I can remember. Daisy had her moments growing up, and even I probably swayed, if only in an attempt to make my life easier, but Mary was nothing but kindness. She and Iris have always been polar opposites, yet so steadfast in their personalities.” Even as she sometimes hated Iris, or at least the way she treated others, Frances always admired her strength of character, the confidence that she held her head high with, no matter what was going on.
“They seemed to get along perfectly,” he questioned.
“The bonds of family, I’m told, defy all reason and are stronger than anything.” She smiled, but wasn’t entirely sure anyone in her family felt the same love for her that Nathaniel showed his siblings.
The carriage slowed, signalling their arrival at Sutton House, where a footman opened the door and stepped aside for Nathaniel to exit. He paused and looked at her before he did, but once he was out of the carriage, he didn’t look back.
Frances smiled at the footman and accepted his hand, but there was a pang of disappointment that Nathaniel had gone ahead, talking to all the household staff as he made his way up the stone steps, leaving her to trail behind.
By the time Sarah, her new lady’s maid, helped her out of her dress, Frances’ stomach was dancing with nerves. The only other time she’d felt this nervous was when Nathaniel first asked her to dance, and she had no idea what to expect. Much like tonight.
“Thank you, Sarah.” She tried to dismiss her so she could open the trousseau Elizabeth had curated for her in private.
“I can help with your nightclothes, if your ladyship wishes.” Sarah gave her a comforting smile. “Lady Lotham wouldn’t mind me telling you she was so nervous on her wedding night, she put her shift on backwards.”
“Were you with her?”
“Not on her wedding night, but I helped her put this together. And if a story could help someone feel better, Lady Lotham would want it told.”
“The trousseau is unfamiliar to me,” Frances admitted.
“Would you like my advice, my lady?” She didn’t look older than Frances, but spoke like she knew as much as Mrs. Brown.
Frances nodded.
“Lady Lotham was particularly excited about this one. It’s not the thing a young, innocent miss would wear, but it doesn’t look like anything a harlot would own either. Begging your pardon, of course.”
“It’s beautiful.” Frances ran her fingers along the delicate fabric, with roses stitched along the hem.
“And very easy for a lady to put on or remove by herself.”
Sarah’s eyebrows added “or with help” but at least she didn’t say it.
“Thank you, Sarah.” The words were less dismissive this time. If anything, Frances was relieved to have hopefully found an ally at Sutton House.
Nathaniel sipped his brandy and wondered how long it took to remove an intricate dress like the one Frances was wearing.
The proper way, that is, with a lady’s maid.
He should have spoken to Frances before, but everyone in the household wanted to congratulate him or confirm the preparations for their new mistress, and Nathaniel wanted to make sure Frances was settled in before he left her to her first night alone at Sutton House.
But the more time he gave her, the more he drank, the darker his mood became, and the less he trusted himself to be alone with her as a calm, comforting, and gracious host. Not that Frances was a guest. As of this afternoon, she was the lady of the house.
Nathaniel downed the rest of his glass.
He got up to refill it just as someone walked past, a flurry of blond hair in a stern lady’s maid uniform.
“Sarah,” he called out in a whisper.
“Lord Lark.” She came over and curtsied.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes and sighed, but he knew better than to tell her to call him by his given name.
His grandmother, Elizabeth, and Rebecca had all explained it to him over tea, as if he didn’t understand the rules of propriety.
Sarah was basically family, after growing up with the Sutton children nearly as long as Rebecca had, but even he reluctantly agreed that it wouldn’t do to have his staff call him by a name only his siblings could call him in public, and it would be worse to only have her do it in private.
So, Sarah called him whatever she wanted, usually Lord Lark, and he bit his tongue.
“Is she asleep?” he asked. “Miss Plimp—Lady Lark,” he corrected himself, hoping Sarah didn’t see how much the name hurt. Not just because of the one he’d thought would bear the name, but because there hadn’t been a Lady Lark since his mother’s passing.
“On your wedding night? No, my lord, she is waiting for you.”
Nathaniel sighed, gathering his courage.
“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Sarah added, putting her hand on the side of his arm. “It’s obviously not my place, but I kept thinking how thrilled your parents would be. I’m so grateful you let me attend.”
“You’re family.” He gave her a sad smile.
“I’ll have breakfast brought to the breakfast room tomorrow, unless—”
“That would be perfect.” He stopped her from suggesting it be served in his bedchamber.
“Imagine actually using a breakfast room for breakfast,” she teased.
“Goodnight, Sarah.”
“Goodnight, my lord.”
The countess’ bedroom was up the stairs and to the left.
Nathaniel had had it prepared for Frances, of course, but he himself hadn’t been inside since years before his parents died.
His mother only ever used her chambers to get dressed, for confinements, or if ever she was ill and didn’t want the earl to catch it, in which case his father would always end up in there, ruining all her best efforts.
Nathaniel would have been the same. He had been by Jo’s side, even when they told him it was best to stay away.