Frankie had fleetingly wondered if the dowager had been to blame for the gossip, for she’d spoken to them at length, but Her Grace didn’t strike her as a coward to go behind people’s backs and spread malicious gossip. It made no sense in any case since the dowager had been so quick to defend them to that horrid widow, Lady Deville. Frankie thought it was more believable if it had been the widow, who’d clearly wanted to set her sights on Thomas. Given how brazen she’d been toward Thomas that night, it certainly made sense that she would stoop so low.
For a long time, Frankie had gone over every detail of that night—trying to make sense of what had happened, until finally, she had to accept her lot. Thomas was lost to her, but while she had long since stopped crying tears, her heart still ached when she thought of him or when his name was mentioned around her.
“Lady Gallwey,” a familiar voice called out from behind her. She turned. “Your Grace.” Frankie couldn’t think of anything else to say. She’d gone tongue-tied.
“I assume you are on your way to the retiring room. May I come with you?” the dowager asked. “Since the ball only just started, perhaps we can hope for privacy.”
Frankie inclined her head. “Yes. Of course, Your Grace.” Frankie wanted to ask why but decided not to say a word.
“Lady Gallwey, this is the first I’ve seen of you in…what has it been? Five years? My condolences on the passing of your husband,” the dowager said.
“Th…thank you, Your Grace.”
They arrived at the retiring room just as two ladies exited. Frankie started to ask a question, but the dowager held a finger to her lips, so she remained silent…and puzzled.
The dowager knocked on the door to one of the privacy closets, and then another. When no one answered, she opened each. “My daughter-in-law had these installed with chamber pots, offering more privacy for the ladies. What do you think?”
“I’m inclined to agree with your daughter-in-law, Your Grace,” Frankie said, biting her lip to keep from smiling. “What a clever design! George and I had discussed updating ours as well.”
The dowager grinned. “They are temporary. She had these built so they could assemble them for events such as these. She is ever so clever.”
Frankie gave the dowager a wobbly smile. “I confess…I came here to get away from the others. For a breather.”
“Ah, I thought that might be the case.” The dowager said, patting the seat next to her on a blue damask settee. “My dear, when I read that awful story in the gossip rag five years ago, I was horrified and had planned to speak with your family that very day. But I had a bad fall that morning and couldn’t leave my bed for quite some time. One should never play hide and seek with children at my age. When I was finally able to leave my bed…it was too late. You had married Lord Gallwey and had left for Westmoreland.
Frankie looked away for a moment before turning back. “I never knew what orwhohad been responsible for that upheaval in my life that changed the course of my fate and sent me on a five-year journey.”
“There were a lot of people on the grounds that night. I cannot say for certain, not without proof. But I am so very sorry, my dear.”
“It seems so long ago.” She shook her head in disbelief. “In any case, it was not as though Thomas and I had been in an amorous embrace in some shadowy corner. We were in plain view of the balcony and there were many couples getting a breath of fresh air. I just don’t understand how it could have been exaggerated to such an extent.”
“Besides, there was nothing to tell,” the dowager said. “I was there at the time.”
Why did I mention him?She had sworn to never mention Thomas’ name…ever again. “I mean this as no insult, Your Grace. But I shouldn’t have come here tonight. Even after five years, it seems those wounds have not quite healed.”
The older woman nodded. “Quite understandable, my dear.” She stood. “I should return to the ballroom, or my son may think I’ve been seduced by a rogue and whisked away,” she said with a chuckle.
Frankie smiled. “That rogue would be the fortunate one.” When the dowager left, Frankie stood and straightened her skirts. She looked at her reflection in the gilded-framed, looking glass that stood in a corner and pondered what had made her even think of coming here tonight. She expelled a deep breath. Frankie was thankful for the private reprieve. But she couldn’t stay in the ladies’ retiring room all night. Perhaps it was best if she went home. As she made her way to the entrance to retrieve her cloak, she passed the glass doors to the balcony. Beyond, the garden glowed beneath the gas lamps, just as it had five years ago. The swing sat unattended amidst the white roses. She could still recall their heavenly scent.
Unable to resist, she stepped onto the balcony and made her way down the garden path to the swing in the arbor. Touching the seat, she recalled how light her heart had felt when Thomas had gently pushed her on the swing. Lighter than air. She had been full of hope for a bright future. Impulsively, she sat on the seat, and holding onto the ropes, pushed off with her feet and began to swing.
She inhaled deeply the dewy fragrance of the roses, and yet there was also the mingled aromas of sandalwood and bergamot that stirred her senses. She closed her eyes and drank it in, letting it take her back to a time when that scent felt so familiar. It had been Thomas’ scent. Startled, she opened her eyes and looked into the deep green eyes of Lord Thomas Latham.
“May I push you?”
Her tongue grew thick in her mouth.Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should have gone straight to her coach from the retiring room. The last thing Frankie wanted was to be nearhim—and be reminded of the past—in this spot, no less.
“No, thank you.”
“You had no objection before,” he whispered.
“That was a lifetime ago. I was naïve. But I am no longer so trusting. Please leave.” Her voice shook with anger.
He came closer and grasped the rope handles of the swing, pulling the swing back and then, gently, letting go.
She dragged her feet on the grass, stopped the swing, and faced him full of fury. “I searched for you that night…but you disappeared. Poof!” she snapped her fingers. “I had little choice but to accept my fate.”
“Your fate?Do you mean marriage to Lord Gallwey? For that, you blameme?” he said in a raspy-sounding voice.
