“I can only give you this much,” he began with a defeated sigh. “Once the children are settled in, you may visit them from time to time. But for now, I do not want them to be more confused than they already are.”
“Now is the time that they need me most!” she argued. “Not to offend you, Your Grace, but at present, you do not seem to be doing the best job at making them feel at home.”
Her sudden audacity irked him. What business did this strange woman have marching up to his home and telling him how lousy of a job he was doing, tending to his nephews?His own blood?
She may be their godmother, but blood was thicker than water.
“Thank you for the input, but I will soon hire a capable governess to do that for them” he replied. “I believe we are done here.”
He could almost feel the anger bubbling inside her. She was acting like a maimed tigress forcefully being kept away from her cubs.
Without saying another word, she walked further into his study, getting almost too close to him before snatching a sheet of paper and a quill. Furiously she began to scribble something on the paper before handing it to him.
“The list of foods they like,” she said through gritted teeth, “so that they do not starve while they are here.”
He watched her storm out of the room, dazed by what had just taken place. To say that this had been the strangest encounter of his life would be an understatement.
* * *
Frances felt her hope plummet after her interaction with Christopher. If only he could see past himself, he would know that the children needed familiarity, and she was the only one who was capable of providing it.
She did not know much about him, only that Peter had a strained relationship with his brother and father from the little Lydia had told her. Given that, it was not surprising that Christopher was in the dark when it came to knowing anything about his nephews.
He wanted to rid himself of the responsibility and hire a governess. It was typical of men of his status to do so—absolve themselves of all responsibility by paying someone to do the job for them.
It irked her, and she wished that she had more of a say. Lydia had been ex-communicated by her own family after she ran off to marry Peter, and Frances was the closest thing to family that she had since.
“Where is it?” Albina’s sharp voice greeted Frances when she walked in through the doors of Ramsbury Manor.
“Where is what?” Frances asked sheepishly.
She had been hoping to avoid her mother entirely, not having the energy to deal with her lectures after the day she had.
“The dress that you had gone into town to purchase,” Albina reminded her, her eyebrow raised.
“Oh…” Frances had entirely forgotten about the excuse she had given her mother. “Um, I looked around a few shops, but there was nothing to my liking.”
“I should have come with you. The ball is next week, and now you will have nothing to wear.” Albina made no secret of her disappointment, which was heavy and overbearing.
Frances walked to the window, eager for a breath of fresh air. “I can always borrow something from Harriet, Mother. It is not too much of an issue.”
“No, you will not. How do you plan on making a good impression if you show up there in clothes that have already been seen?”
“On Harriet, yes. But not me.”
“People will assume that we cannot afford to buy our daughters separate clothes.” Albina shook her head.
“Then we can head into town tomorrow to purchase a new dress,” Frances offered, feeling at her wits’ end.
Albina seemed to be in a bickering mood—which was not a surprise. “And a new personality. If you behave in the same timid way towards the gentlemen, as you always do, I do not see how things will progress enough for them to ask for your hand.”
Frances’s cheeks flamed. She recalled her interactions with Christopher and how she had so boldly asked him to marry her.
“Do we have to discuss this again, Mother?”
“Of course. Time is ticking, and it is almost the middle of the Season. All the best bachelors have already been snatched up.”
“I am sure there is something left there for me,” Frances replied, though her tone lacked any real conviction.
