Even though the idea of appearing affectionate towards him made her a mess of nerves. She had scarcely stopped thinking of their kiss, and her face turned bright red whenever she saw him looking her way.
A question niggled at her.
Did he feel the same way? After all, he had been behaving strangely ever since it happened. More than once, she had caught him stumbling over his words whenever she had looked in his direction for too long at the dinner table.
But then, his having that reaction made no sense. He was a man, and if indeed he had been a rake before he married her, then it was not his first time kissing anyone. Surely, he would not be behaving so boyishly.
Her nails dug deeper into the raised upholstery of her chair.
Could there be another explanation, then? Did he regret their kiss altogether?
The thought alone made her sick to her stomach.
Luckily, her maid cut in, offering her a much-needed respite from her roiling thoughts.
“All done, Your Grace.” She smiled.
“Oh…” Frances touched the side of her hair, which had now been done up into a bunch of curls. She seldom did her hair like this, even though her sisters frequently told her that it looked the best on her.
“Are you happy with it?”
Frances nodded, smiling at her maid. “Thank you. I love it.”
When Frances looked at her reflection in the mirror, she no longer saw a maiden girl, even though she was still one, for all it mattered. She looked like a woman. Like aduchess.
As she rose from her seat, readying herself to head downstairs, she felt a strange sense of confidence bloom inside her.
Perhaps, just perhaps, tonight did not have to be so bad, after all.
“Let me guide you down the stairs.” Her maid graciously helped her out of the room.
As they reached the landing, Frances saw Christopher waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.
Even from afar, he looked quite nice in the suit that he had donned.
She self-consciously smoothed her skirts, wondering what he would think of her.
Christopher did not look up even once as she descended the stairs. But somehow, he magically knew when she reached the last step, as he came over to offer her his hand.
“Frances.”
“Christopher.”
And then their eyes finally met for the first time that evening. She noticed a flicker of emotion in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
It confirmed to her that her dress did get a reaction out of him. Now, whether or not it was a positive one remained a mystery.
“Shall we head to the carriage?” Christopher cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away quickly.
“Why, yes. Please lead the way.”
He did not look in her direction again until they reached the carriage. Frances felt a small pang of disappointment. It would have been nice, after all, for him to compliment her once.
Was that not what was expected of gentlemen?
The carriage began moving to their destination, and Frances decided to strike up a conversation. Christopher was gazing out the window, apparently interested in anything else except the woman that was sitting across from him.
It offended her a little that the trees outside appealed to him more than she did.
