He managed a small, sad smile and leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. “You should rest.”
With that, he quietly left the room, not waiting for her response.
It was hardly the time to talk. One thing that was difficult to deny was that Frances had a way of bringing things out of him like no one else.
Somehow, it felt safe to admit things to her. Perhaps part of the reason was how motherly she was—her interactions with the children proved that she was a very trustworthy person.
And perhaps a part of it was that he specifically felt something when he was around her that made him want to open up.
It was a dangerous line he was walking, but at least he was having a good time.
* * *
The next morning, Frances woke up late. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. She blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was already time for lunch.
She shot up in bed immediately, rubbing the side of her head in confusion.
How did I sleep in so late?
Frances never really had a problem with waking up on time. But she had been so exhausted all week that it had really taken a toll on her body.
Just then, her maid entered the room.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” She smiled cheerfully. “I have brought you breakfast.”
“Why did you not wake me sooner?” Frances questioned as the maid set down the plate of food on the table.
Frances slowly climbed out of bed, clutching the front of her robe tightly.
“The staff was given express instructions to let you rest for the day.”
“Who asked you to let me sleep?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
“His Grace,” the maid replied, setting the cutlery. “He insisted that you needed rest and ordered us not to disturb you.”
Frances felt her cheeks grow warmer. It was so thoughtful for Christopher to do this, when he had no need to.
“Well, thank you. I will enjoy my breakfast now.”
The maid curtsied and stepped out of the room, leaving Frances to her thoughts.
She kept thinking of Christopher, and then the children.
The children.
“Oh, they must be wondering why I did not show up for breakfast.” Frances shoveled the remains of her toast into her mouth and then quickly got changed.
Taking care of the children was a full-time commitment, and she did not want them to worry. Rest should come later.
She hurriedly finished dressing and then made her way downstairs. At the dining table, Christopher was having lunch with the twins.
She felt relieved to see them there, looking calm as ever.
Perhaps I overreacted, just a little.
“Good afternoon, Frances. So pleased to see that you have joined us,” Christopher commented as he spotted her in the doorway.
She nodded, walking over to them.
