Chapter Forty-Nine
The flavoured ice was delicious, but afterward, everyone—including Theodore, who happened upon them as they were leaving the modiste—was so full they didn’t know where to fit dinner. Frances hadn’t even finished hers, but she felt terribly cramped and bloated. Uncomfortably so.
Luckily, magic happened when the Suttons gathered, so everyone was in stitches the whole time. Even their bickering was good-natured and entertaining.
Because everyone took such small bites and tried to cover the fact they weren’t eating, the meal lasted longer than usual, as did the teas they drank in the drawing room to help them digest.
Afterwards, Teddy introduced them to one of the tamer games he’d learnt at sea, which required pairs, so Grace claimed Becca, Teddy convinced Sarah to help him demonstrate, and Frances was forced to sit beside Nathaniel, to hold his hand, to look deep into his eyes, to do all the things that would break her heart.
He was looking at her with such yearning and regret—which could all be about Jo, but it could also mean his resolve was failing.
Did she dare to dream that perhaps, once he knew about the baby, he would want more with her as well?
Maybe.
“Do they often play games like that?” Frances asked later that night while Sarah helped her get out of one of her more intricate gowns.
“Games? Of course, though I have to say they’re not usually so organized. Lieutenant Sutton is often the instigator of trouble, though, so perhaps he felt more determined, seeing as this was his game.”
“I can only imagine what it was like growing up here.”
“We can’t. Not really. I watched it happen, and was included in so much of it, yet I’ll never truly know.”
“Oh, how we’d hate them if they weren’t so overwhelmingly kind and welcoming.”
“I could never hate them, ma’am, but they do make it hard,” Sarah agreed.
Frances saw a flash of red and worried she’d spilt some of the strawberry jam they’d topped their cakes with, only it wasn’t on the outside of her gown, it was in her undergarments.
She froze, fighting against the tears, as it felt like the room had no more air in it.
“Oh, Lady lark, we’ll get this out. Happens all the time,” Sarah assured her.
Sarah was kind, but she was wrong. This did not happen all the time, and she would not be fine.
It took all Frances had not to break down in front of Sarah, to wait until she was gone to sit on the floor and mourn all that was, all that could have been.
Mourn the life she’d been so sure she’d felt, and the one she thought she’d live because of it.
She felt raw, broken, angry, defeated. She wanted to go to bed and never get out.
She was about to do so when there was a knock on her door.
Sarah, obviously. That woman saw more than she let on, knew more than she should, and must have gone to get her tea to make her feel better. It was sweet, but incredibly misguided, as nothing could make her feel better.
“Sarah, I—”
“No, it’s me.”
Nathaniel was standing there in his nightclothes and a robe, looking so vulnerable Frances wanted to take him in her arms nearly as much as she wanted to pound against his chest until it stopped hurting.
Instead, she sighed, taking more restraint than she liked to prevent it from turning into a sob.
“How can I help you, my lord?”
“My lord,” he said to himself, then cleared his throat before continuing. “Are you well?”
“Quite. Was there something you needed?”
“I thought, umm, I was perhaps rash, and misjudged what would… I thought maybe, with my siblings here…” She was confused. “I miss sleeping next to you,” he finally admitted. “If it isn’t too difficult, I thought, maybe—”
“I think you had the right thought the first time,” she stopped him, her voice raw. “We both knew the rules, so as long as we don’t muck it up again, we should be perfectly content.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“You may tell your siblings I snore, that I move too much, I steal the covers… Or you can tell them the truth. It hardly matters to me.”
“Of course.”
“Was that all, my lord?”
“Nathaniel,” he reminded her, as a reflex, because she felt sure she didn’t currently look like a woman you wanted to correct.
“Was that all, Nathaniel?”
“Yes, it was. I apologize for disturbing you so late.”
“No need to apologize.”
“Well, goodnight then, Frances.”
“Goodnight,” she said, but after watching him go, she shut the door and slid down the back of it, surrendering to her tears.
All she felt was broken.