“Lady Frances, I never quite… envisioned myself doing this in such an abrupt manner, but I would like to ask you for your hand in marriage, formally.”
She blinked at him, stunned.
“I mean, it is the most rational thing to do, as you said. You are looking for a husband, and I should have a wife, as well. The children are already attached to you, and…”
“Your Grace, I?—”
“Please, do not refuse. I know it’s not the romantic proposal most women anticipate.”
“I will accept,” she blurted out, “but only if you formally ask for my father’s blessing.”
They both stared at each other as if they were seeing the other for the first time. Something between them had shifted, and it had happened all too rapidly.
“I shall do that as early as tomorrow,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
“Very well then. I shall take my leave.”
“Safe travels, My Lady.”
Frances let out a deep sigh as she made her way out of his study, pinching herself to see if this was truly happening.
What have I just agreed to?
* * *
The morning light did little to ease Frances’s restless thoughts as she woke from a fitful sleep. The events of the previous night replayed in her mind. The urgency of Christopher’s plea, the quiet drive to the manor, the peaceful resolution with the children, and most importantly… the proposal—it all seemed like a vivid dream now.
As she prepared for the day, Frances felt a nervous tension building in her shoulders. Her mother was already planning her social engagements, unaware of what Frances had gotten up to the night before.
Thankfully, Albina was a heavy sleeper. A war could be waged outside, and she would still not wake up. That worked to Frances’s benefit, and she hoped that the maid would not tell on her either.
“Frances, dear, remember we have a walk planned this morning. The Withertons will be there, and I hear Mr. Witherton’s nephew has just returned to the city. Quite an eligible young man,” her mother droned on as they sat down for breakfast.
Frances nodded absently, her thoughts drifting. The mention of suitors and social calls filled her with a sense of dread rather than the usual mild annoyance.
What if someone saw me leave? What if someone finds out about my visit to the Duke?
The scandal would ruin not just her reputation but potentially affect the Duke and his nephews as well.
“Frances.” Albina’s sharp tone brought her back to reality. “Are you even listening to anything I am saying to you?”
“Yes, Mother.” Frances nearly jumped in her seat. “The walk.”
Albina looked at her, concerned. “What time did you sleep last night?”
“L-last night?” Frances stuttered, her hands suddenly trembling.
Could she possibly know?
“Why, I was in bed right after we returned from the dinner. You may ask Anna about it.”
“It doesn’t seem like it. I suspect you have not slept well.”
“Not at all, Mother. I slept just fine,” Frances assured, though it was a lie.
She had returned so late last night and barely managed to get any sleep, her thoughts keeping her awake.
“If you say so.” Her mother’s gaze returned to the plate in front of her, and Frances breathed a sigh of relief. “Make sure to dress well for our walk later. I am hoping to finally make some strides in your search for a suitor. It is about time.”
