Chapter Fifty-Two
‘You’re going to be an aunt! Again, but I finally get to be a mother.
Victor is thrilled, obviously. I think we owe it all to the magic of Sutton House, and how wonderful it was to finally have all four of us together as sisters.
You and Lord Lark are welcome to visit whenever you are available, though once the baby is born, we hope you will both agree to be godparents. Marigold’s children adore you, and I—’
Frances crumpled the letter and threw it at her feet, narrowly missing the fireplace, which she would be grateful for once she calmed down enough to want to finish reading it.
When there was a knock on her door, followed by Nathaniel’s voice calling her name, she yelled, “Go away!” before her brain had the time to remind her that was a rude thing to do.
“Are you well?”
She opened the door with a heavy sigh she hoped he didn’t catch, but couldn’t help herself.
“I’m sorry, I stubbed my toe and spoke without thinking.”
“I hope the pain subsides quickly.” He gave her a smile, but didn’t look like he believed her. “I came to apologize.”
“Whatever for?”
“I misjudged your instincts. About Lord Dorset.”
“Did Rebecca…” She felt like she’d been dropped into ice water.
“No, nothing happened. Thomas hinted that Rebecca should be cautious, but she had already changed her mind about him. She’s smarter and more aware than I give her credit for.” He cleared his throat. “I asked James to accompany Rebecca tonight. I thought you and I might talk?”
He looked so hopeful, so vulnerable, which was exactly what kept making her fall deeper in love with a man she would end up hating if she didn’t control her emotions.
Especially after Iris’ letter and everything it stirred in her.
She wanted to lash out and throw things, at whom or whatever was closest.
Nathaniel was particularly ill-placed.
“My apologies, my lord, but I do not feel my best right now and would like to be alone, if I may.”
“Are you ill?” Concern and fear haunted his eyes. Frances hated that it made her soften, made her want to comfort and reassure him.
“It’s just a foul mood I don’t want to subject you to.” She sighed. “I received a letter from Iris, but…”
“What did she write?”
“Nothing, she was perfectly kind. I’ll be pleasant by morning,” she promised.
“I don’t need you pleasant, Frances. I don’t need you to be anything but yourself, however that may be. May I please come in?”
“That would be a terrible idea,” she warned.
“Please?”
“I’m not joking, Nathaniel. If you come in, I don’t think I’ll be able to control the words that—”
“I can take it.”
He opened the door and walked in, cautiously, in an acknowledgement that this was her space, but she got the impression that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was well. Might even wait on the floor outside her chambers if she threw him out.
“Please, Nathaniel, leave me alone.”
“We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to do that anymore,” she argued. “Every time we talk, you justify the things you do that hurt me, in a way that I can’t hate you for it, because a decent person should possibly agree with you, but I don’t. None of this is normal, or makes any sense. None of this is what I…”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology. I don’t care anymore.
I thought it was worth it. I thought I was better off here, with you, being a Sutton, than the overlooked, least favorite child at home, but at least when I was there, I had hope.
I had the possibility that someday, someone would see me, want to marry me, and might grow to love me.
And even if they didn’t, I could have children and love them and be happy with them.
But you’ve robbed me of all of it. The happy, loving marriage, the children, but worst of all, the hope.
That someday it might get better. And I don’t know if I can forgive you for that. ”
“Forgive me?”
“I don’t want to, and I’m trying to stop, but I hate you right now. So much. I want to cry and scream and throw things, none of which is like me. I hate you so much that it makes me hate myself for it.”
“I never wanted…”
“I know you never wanted to hurt me. For a long time, that was enough so I would feel sorry for you and see you as some kind of savior. But you’re not. You know exactly what you’re doing as you break my heart, over and over again, pretending it’s for my own good.”
“What happened? You were perfectly content and then…I don’t know what your sister wrote, but—”
“Don’t put this on her, Nathaniel. I was never content; I was resigned.
I believed I didn’t deserve any better, that no one would have loved me, so better be married to you, who at least treated me well.
But my sisters realized the error of their ways and have been showing me kindness and respect, not just the illusion of it. ”
“I only ever wanted—”
“To save me, right? Poor little Frances, loved by no one, so starved for affection she’d be grateful to waste away in a loveless marriage, neglected until the need arises, so you can use her before unceremoniously discarding her, with absolutely no regard for the consequences of such actions—”
“You would have been ruined,” he fumed, keeping his tone even, but she could see the strain in every muscle of his body. “I never would have subjected you to a marriage with me, and I apologize for taking liberties I promised I wouldn’t, but you would have—”
“I would have managed,” she argued.
“You have no idea.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course, more secrets. More protecting me from harsh truths to justify—”
“Your father was going to ruin you. Whether I married you or not, he was going to make sure the world thought I’d had you, so the guilt would eat me alive, even if my reputation survived.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“You know he would. He had other daughters, but I was the only earl in his acquaintance, so it was worth the risk. I am so sorry, Frances, but I…I married you, initially, because I knew it would be better for you with me than with whoever your father trapped into marrying you if I didn’t.”
Frances couldn’t process the words he was saying, but at the same time, it had to be the truth.
Not just that her father would think so little of her, but that someone like Nathaniel would swoop in to save the unwanted damsel in distress.
It wasn’t them being caught that put them in this awkward position together, it was his fear of what would happen to her if he refused.
They were never in it together, he was just breaking his core promise so he could protect her from her father.
“Then I wish I’d been ruined. Banished from society rather than forced to parade around while everyone laughs at poor, oblivious Frances.”
She’d told him as much before accepting his proposal, and all this time, he’d known. She had to get out of there. Of the room, of the house, of London. She had to go far away where no one knew her or what had happened.
“Don’t follow me,” she said, managing to look Nathaniel directly in the eyes when he tried to reach for her arm, but then she had to run off because there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop the avalanche of tears that engulfed her.
Every fiber of his being wanted to run after her, but the ice in her voice when she’d asked him not to follow ensured that even he wouldn’t dare.
He would let her garden her frustrations out, and then they could have a civilized conversation where…
what, exactly? He knew his revelation had hurt her, also the fact that he’d kept it from her, but he hadn’t ever meant to reveal the threats her father made after they were found together at the Williams Garden party.
“I heard shouting, is everything—”
“Everything is fine, Sarah, Lady Lark is simply doing some gardening.”
Not a single staff member would believe him, least of all Sarah, but he wasn’t ready for her looks, either judging him, reproaching him, pitying him, or all three, most likely.
He would give Frances some time to process, and then he would go find her.
To apologize profusely. Let her know it was all his fault.
Grovel. He had no idea how to make things right, but he knew he had to.
Frances had to see that his heart was breaking along with hers.
The only difference was that he was the one causing it.
Perhaps he should tell Sarah, and let her find out what Frances wanted, whatever would make her happy, because he would give it to her. Whatever it was, it would be hers.
“Lady Lark is requesting the carriage, sir, to visit her sister. Shall I—”
“Give her whatever she wants,” he told Stevens, who retreated, while Sarah followed him to his chambers, where he poured himself a very generous stiff drink. “Perhaps she must confer with her old cook about the greenhouse,” he told Sarah’s look.
“I didn’t hear everything, but—”
“You heard nothing.” It came out harsher than he’d intended, but it was bad enough he’d repeated the words to Frances.
“Of course, my lord.”
Though she always used his title, it never sounded quite so spiteful.
He sighed, utterly defeated, and her look softened.
“I’ll fix it,” he promised.
“Of course,” Sarah said before retreating with a curtsey.
Hours later, Nathaniel was on his…he didn’t know how many-th scotch, waiting for Frances to return.
James and Rebecca had gone to the ball, and he’d had supper with Grace, pretending everything was perfectly fine.
He should have forbidden Frances from leaving, told her she could lock him out of her chambers from now on, but she was not to run off and leave him when she was upset like that.
That probably would have made her want to leave more, but at least he wouldn’t have just stood there stupidly and let it happen.
“Will you be needing anything before we retire for the evening?” Stevens tried very hard not to judge what he and Sarah walked in on, but failed miserably.
“Nothing for me, though I assume Lady Lark will need help once she returns. Perhaps we can send someone to her parents’ house to see what is keeping her.”
He would have gone himself, only he felt very certain he would murder his father-in-law if the man said anything untoward, which was incredibly likely.
“Forgive me, sir, but I don’t believe Lady Lark will be returning any time soon.”
“What do you mean?” His heart stopped. Someone would have told him immediately if something happened to Frances, but that didn’t stop the fear from taking hold of him. Unless Stevens meant that Frances had left him, not just for an evening, but forever, which suddenly made his breathing difficult.
“Lady Dodd will expect her to stay a few days, at least,” Sarah said delicately.
“She left London?” His fear turned to shock, then anger, then fear again as he realized he’d been sitting there, worried about her, trying to figure out how to make things right while she had completely abandoned him. “Without her lady’s maid?”
“She felt Audrey would be preferable, given the circumstances.”
Nathaniel knew Sarah was referring to the fact that she was so close to him, and would probably have been able to convince her to either not go, or to come back sooner.
“Did she give any indication of when she would be returning?”
Stevens shook his head, while Sarah shrugged her shoulders.
“If anyone asks,” he said in a hushed tone that hopefully left no room for argument and hinted that he wanted the story spread whether or not anyone asked, before the truth could get out.
“Lady Dodd wrote, asking Lady Lark to come at once, and I fully support my wife’s devotion to her family, as I am equally devoted to mine. ”
“Understood, sir.”
“Yes, my lord.” Sarah didn’t sound happy about it, but he knew she would do as she was told.
He nodded his thanks, then headed for the door.
“My lord, shall I get the carriage?” Stevens inquired.
“No, I need to clear my head.”