Chapter Twenty-Four
“Where’s Frances?” Rebecca asked Nathaniel as he twirled her around the dance floor.
“I haven’t seen her since we arrived,” he said, though it wasn’t necessarily true.
He’d left her with James, who’d arrived that afternoon, while he introduced Rebecca to some prospective suitors, but apparently, being married to him had only made Frances more popular, as she moved from dance partner to dance partner.
He was keeping an eye on her though, ready to intervene if ever she wasn’t smiling, but so far, James had rescued her the one time she looked uneasy.
“Speaking of which, who is that boy who can’t keep his eyes off you? ”
“I thought you knew everyone?” she said without looking, which told him she’d also noticed his interest.
“As did I.”
“Aldridge Chamberlain,” she told him, with the tiniest of smiles. “He inherited the Dorset title. Recently graduated from Cambridge, decent family. I forget his income, though you can be assured Miss Caulder mentioned it when she all but claimed him at her sister’s party.”
“You’ve been introduced?”
“Briefly. He’s friends with Lord Markham’s eldest, so he’s staying with them for the season—or until he finds a bride—before laying claim to the Dorset property in Kent.”
“Are you interested?”
Lord Dorset certainly was, but Rebecca’s face was slightly harder to read, since she was almost always smiling.
“Nathaniel, that is the sweetest thing anyone has asked me all season. Though you did hear the part about Miss Caulder claiming him, didn’t you?”
“I did, but he seems to be unaware of that fact, as he is making his way towards us.”
He smiled at the blush that spread on his cousin’s cheeks, but when he looked back to see if Lord Dorset noticed, he was struck by the sight of Frances. Not so much the look of her, though her lilac gown perfectly matched the flower in her hair, but the way her body relaxed whenever their eyes met.
She approached them, and he asked, “How is your evening, Lady Lark?”
“Very well. I don’t think I’ve left the dance floor once.”
“Lord and Lady Lark, may I introduce you to Lord Dorset?” Rebecca cut in, blushing from Lord Dorset’s attentions, while Frances took her place slightly behind him.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Nathaniel greeted.
“I was just remarking on how lucky you were to have snatched Miss Plimpton.”
“I didn’t know you were acquainted.” He looked to Frances, but her cheeks were flushed. Nathaniel tilted his head, surprised by her reaction, but she was behaving in the oddest manner. Like she’d been caught.
“We’re not.” Lord Dorset shrugged. “But my dear friend, Mr. Brooks, unsuccessfully courted her sister earlier in the season. I believe Lady Lark turned the poor man down as well.”
“Did she now?” Nathaniel couldn’t figure out Frances’ expression. Was it guilt? Everyone had strongly implied Frances had no previous suitors, but perhaps there was a secret affair with Brooks? “I count myself very lucky she did not turn me down.”
“We were all surprised. Perhaps this is the season of miracles.”
James arrived and let Rebecca introduce him to the newcomer, which gave Frances a reprieve, but the flush did not go away.
“Speaking of miracles,” Lord Dorset said, his eyes on Rebecca. “Miss Turner, might I have the honour of your next dance?”
Nathaniel saw her eyes go wide, and the smile she tried to hide before she spotted Miss Caulder in a corner, glaring at the group of them, and her smile faltered.
“She would be thrilled,” James answered for her.
Rebecca looked grateful as she accepted Dorset’s hand and followed him to the dance floor.
“Was that equal parts to spite Miss Caulder as it was to please Becca?” Nathaniel asked James as the three of them took a turn around the room, all eyes fixed on Rebecca.
“My only concern is for Becca’s happiness,” he argued. “If it thwarts Miss Caulder, so be it.”
Nathaniel was going to dig deeper and make sure his brother wasn’t just putting on a brave face, but something made him turn to see Frances wasn’t following the conversation, or even pretending to.
Her focus was entirely on Rebecca and her suitor, gliding across the floor, both beaming as the young lord said something that made Becca laugh.
“Lady Lark—"
“I believe I have a megrim, my lord. Would you mind if I retired early?”
“Of course,” he said with some surprise. “I’ll go summon the carriage.”
“I’ll take care of Rebecca,” James assured him.
Frances didn’t speak in the carriage, nor when they arrived home, and she went straight up to her room.
Nathaniel wanted to ask what was wrong, to try and make it better, but he worried she wasn’t telling him because there was nothing he could do.
She had either watched the young couple with jealousy, as marrying him ensured she would never get her own happy marriage, or—another thought he’d never considered before tonight—maybe Frances had a suitor before the garden party, and being caught with Nathaniel had ruined it for her.
Was he the reason she’d had to turn down Mr. Brooks?
She was a coward.
Frances knew this, because if she wasn’t, she would have told Rebecca.
She would have pulled her aside and explained that behind Lord Dorset’s twinkling smile was a liar who enjoyed causing others pain.
That he’d mocked her and her family at the Sampson ball with Mr. Brooks, and even had the gall to wink at her after. He was a despicable man.
She was especially a coward, because it wasn’t so much the fear of speaking up that stopped her.
She was possibly letting someone as sweet as Rebecca get entangled with a deceitful pig like Lord Dorset because she was terrified that they would side with him.
His words had been hurtful and he took pleasure in knowing she’d heard him, but what had he said but the truth?
In her heart, she knew they wouldn’t. Nathaniel and his family were not cruel. But at the same time, if she was wrong, she didn’t think she would be able to recover from that.