Chapter Fifty-One
Frances had stayed home, again, claiming a headache, but Nathaniel heard her in the music room with Grace as he and Rebecca left for the evening.
Then Rebecca had filled her dance card so quickly that he spent most of the evening by himself in corners, trying to avoid everyone.
Which was how he’d expected his season as Rebecca’s chaperone to go, but he hadn’t planned on answering questions about where Lady Lark was this evening, nor had he expected to know what it was like to have Frances on his arm as he navigated society, someone to share stories with and pass the time while Rebecca danced.
It wasn’t fair to pretend he only wished Frances was there because he was bored. He missed her. Talking with her, laughing with her, sleeping beside her. She’d been avoiding him lately, and though he didn’t blame her, he definitely didn’t like it.
“And then a monkey jumped off my shoulders and the crowd went wild,” Rebecca finished her story and eyed him expectantly as the carriage made its way to Sutton House.
“That sounds wonderful.”
“It was.” She initiated a stare contest, but while she often beat James, Nathaniel was the stare contest champion. Unless he’d overindulged, or it was against Lizzie.
He gave up before finding out if six glasses of champagne were enough to give Rebecca the advantage. “Any suitors from the evening stand out?”
“Lord Bromley was interesting. And Mr. Voight, though he never worked up the courage to look me in the eye.”
“I notice you’ve been avoiding Lord Dorset. Did something happen between you two? I thought you liked him, and he made his interest very clear when he came to call last week.”
“He was lovely to dance with, but not what I’m looking for in a partner.”
Nathaniel tried to read her expression, but she shrugged her shoulders.
“St. John sounded relieved when I told him your interest had dwindled.”
“There’s a rumor Dorset is the lord the papers were referring to. About the female servant who ran away in tears.”
He was shocked, but Rebecca didn’t look the least bit surprised.
“If you believe it of him, does that mean he—” Nathaniel was horrified. Had he been so engrossed in his own marital woes that he’d nearly married his cousin off to a predator?
“No, no, he was a perfect gentleman with me, and I was quite interested in him. But I’m told he had very different personalities, based on whether he saw you as beneath him or not. I assume he heard of Thomas’ upbringing and showed him more of his unsavory side than he dared to show us.”
“Told by whom?” Nathaniel pressed, angry with himself. He’d allowed the man into his home, introduced him to Grace. He wracked his brain to remember if Dorset had been left alone with any of the women at any point in time.
“Does it matter? The important part is that we found out the truth before anything could happen, and—”
“Do you think Frances knew? That that’s why she always looked so…”
Dorset had always looked at Frances like he knew a secret, and Frances… God, she must have been terrified of him, not envious.
“I think your wife is an excellent judge of character, and that she has the biggest heart. I also think she can take care of herself, and those she cares about.”
“She’s rather extraordinary.” Nathaniel sighed, but it did nothing to lessen the guilt in his stomach, or the ache in his chest.