Chapter Twenty-Six
“We should rescue Rebecca,” Nathaniel decided as soon as he was done introducing Frances to their hosts, who’d asked after each of his siblings, and his grandparents.
He was the perfect gentleman, even as the woman ignored his many attempts to point out that three of his siblings were here tonight, so she could ask them her questions instead.
Rebecca had slipped away with Lizzie while Nathaniel covered what sounded like Teddy’s entire naval career, and was now talking to a young gentleman.
“He looks nice,” Frances argued, smiling because she loved how riled up her husband got when it came to protecting his siblings from all threats, real or imagined. She’d hated it from her mother, but she rather enjoyed hearing all the gossip from Nathaniel.
“Don’t let those blue eyes and charm fool you. That man has at least a half-dozen bastards, and he could never be—” He flushed. “Apologies, I forgot myself.” She couldn’t help but smile at the way the red crept into the tips of his ears.
She had thought things would be awkward between them after the almost-kiss, or that he’d avoid her to prevent any future opportunities, but while they’d perhaps had less time alone together since Elizabeth arrived, the interactions they did have now felt closer, like they were truly friends. Which was better than polite strangers.
“Faithful?” She supplied.
“Not to Rebecca,” Nathaniel agreed before looking at Frances’ face and the laugh she was suppressing. “You do this on purpose,” he reproached.
“I encourage you to vent your frustrations before you reach the man in question. I trust you have this knowledge of his exploits because you are friends?"
"That’s becoming a loose term the longer he flirts with my sister.”
“I find Rebecca an excellent judge of character.”
Except when it came to Lord Dorset, but luckily he had yet to make an appearance this evening.
“She sees the goodness in everyone, yes. It’s a quality we all adore in her, but it makes courting very difficult.”
“As long as she stays with the crowd.”
“Are we joking about that?”
He seemed surprised, but still good-natured, raising an eyebrow at her in a way she was sure had made dozens of women swoon. What would his friends have said about him if she’d had benevolent brothers looking out for her?
“Do you have any bastards?”
He nearly choked at her boldness—which surprised her as well, to be honest.
“This is hardly the—”
Her eyes widened when he deflected the question.
“How many?” She wasn’t as shocked that he had any as that she’d never thought to ask.
“None. That I know of, or otherwise.” He was blushing at their topic of conversation, but the way he looked at her said that not only was it the truth, but he would have told her long before if it wasn’t.
Suddenly, Frances felt silly. Of course she’d never thought to ask. If Nathaniel had any children, legitimate or otherwise, they would be living at Sutton House, or the Lark Estate, perhaps not known to society, but thoroughly adored by every member of his family. Suttons looked after each other.
She wanted to apologize for going there, but he gave her a smile like he knew, and asked, “Would you mind watching Rebecca while I have a word with Tuombey?”
“Be nice,” Frances warned with a grateful smile, going to Rebecca as Nathaniel followed the suitor outside.
“Has Nathaniel gone to murder poor Lord Tuombey?” Rebecca asked in a whisper, watching them while shaking her head.
“Are you not completely enraptured by him and entirely unaware of his roguish nature?” Frances addressed her with the sarcasm the Suttons often used amongst themselves, hoping she wasn’t overstepping.
“Lizzie’s property borders his. People gossip.”
“But you looked so…”
“Under his spell?” Lizzie joined the conversation. “Please.”
“He’s harmless,” Becca assured her. “Easy on the eyes and charming, so anyone who doesn’t know his history is eager to introduce him to their daughters, but he is very uninterested in that occurrence, despite his father’s insistence that he marry.
I got a pleasant conversation and enjoyable dance, while he gets a reprieve from his father.
Plus, Nathaniel and Lizzie both agree that one man’s attentions make a woman seem more, not less, desirable. ”
“As long as you don’t get hurt,” Frances warned, knowing all too well how painful it could be to fall for someone uninterested in marrying you.
“Precisely. But it means the world that you’re looking out for me, as unnecessary as it may be in this case.”
“Because you already have enough siblings.”
“Never,” Rebecca argued. “I can only hope all my siblings find spouses as wonderful as you.”
She looked to Lizzie in a way that implied her late husband had not been. Frances kept meaning to bring it up with Nathaniel, but as the family was so forthcoming about everything else, she assumed there was a reason no one ever mentioned him.
Nathaniel finished his warning to Tuombey, which somehow turned into the proud father showing him a straw doll his eldest daughter made him, and as much as Nathaniel saw this pathetic man was no threat to Rebecca, he also felt a tightness in his chest as he yearned to be that precise kind of pathetic.
He shook the thought off and went to look for Frances, but found Rebecca first, just off the dance floor.
“Did you leave him alive?” she asked.
“Even has all his members.”
“That means nothing when duels are held at dawn.”
He fought the urge to ruffle her hair, shaking his head at the straight face she said it with.
“If I were to duel on your behalf…” He let the thought linger, because there was a sixty-year-old marquess approaching, who’d earlier informed Nathaniel that his father sired children into his eighties and that Rebecca looked like she had adequate childbearing hips.
“I’m certain we can turn him down without resorting to murder,” she argued, with a hopeful look to Nathaniel.
He searched for an excuse to turn the man down without blatantly insulting him, but instead, Nathaniel could have kissed his oldest friend as he intercepted them.
“Lord St. John.”
“Lark.” Tom nodded to him, then bowed to Becca. “Lady Turner.”
“It’s Miss,” she corrected with a smile.
“I see a lady before me. Titles hardly matter.” Tom winked in a way Nathaniel would have been concerned about from anyone else. “May I have your next available dance?” he asked with a sideways glance at the marquess, who’d changed course and was heading for another young miss.
“It would be my absolute pleasure, my lord. Your timing is excellent.”
Nathaniel watched them leave with a breath of relief, then found Frances drinking lemonade and deep in conversation with his sister.
“Have we lost James?” he asked, taking a biscuit off Lizzie’s plate. He hadn’t seen his brother since they’d first arrived.
“Miss Caulder was circling, so he made himself scarce. He may be as anxious as you are to get Rebecca settled,” Lizzie said before catching sight of Rebecca and the viscount. Her face immediately soured.
“Yes, my life will be infinitely easier if this works out.”
“This being?” Frances asked, searching the floor as well.
“Rebecca and Lord St. John.” He saw the vein in Lizzie’s forehead pulse.
“Forgive me, I must go powder my nose.” Lizzie smiled sweetly, but she looked at Nathaniel like she was leaving to prevent herself from causing him bodily harm.
“I don’t believe your sister agrees,” Frances remarked once she was gone.
“They antagonized each other as children, but he is the only man here I would trust to chaperone any of my sisters if I were unavailable.”
“That’s high praise.”
“We should have him for dinner. When Elizabeth isn’t there, of course. So you can get to know him better and form an unbiased opinion someone might listen to.”
“Because she isn’t as fond of him as you’d hoped?”
“I may need reinforcements.” He shrugged his shoulders, confident Frances would see what he did as soon as she spent a few hours in St. John’s company, especially if Lizzie made an appearance.
“I would love to get to know your friend, and all his secrets about your childhood,” Frances assured him.
“On second thought—”
“But I hope you wouldn’t intentionally pit me against your sister.”
“No, that would be a terrible idea,” he agreed. “But you would take my side, would you not?”
He’d been teasing, mostly, but Frances sighed in that way she did when she said something simple, but meant it with her whole heart. “Always.”
“You don’t need to do that, just because you’re my wife,” he told her.
His family constantly challenged him when they disagreed, and though he often hated it, it would be worse if they did not feel comfortable speaking up.
“I trust you.” Frances shrugged, as if to diminish its importance, but her eyes told him she was answering his question from their lessons. He’d asked it as far as the riding, confident he would never let any harm befall her on a horse, but she meant it in general, for everything.
A familiar tightness wrapped itself around his heart, knowing he didn’t deserve it. As guilty as he felt, he couldn’t help but want to earn her trust. In Frances’ world, where siblings and parents betrayed her without remorse, her trusting him meant everything.