Frances remembered her mother mentioning him before. His father had struck a fortune in one of the mines up North, and he was set to inherit a comfortable estate in the coming few years, being the only child of his parents. It was no wonder that her mother was trying so hard.
His gaze darted around the room, and Frances wondered if he was already courting someone. If true, it would make the entire interaction doubly embarrassing.
She was just about to nudge her mother and steer her away when they were joined by another gentleman whose expression was fraught with anxiety.
“Lord William,” Lord Cormick greeted.
All three of them were now looking at the man with concern.
“Lord Cormick, and ah, Lady Ramsbury. I did expect to see you here.” Lord William’s response was polite, but the frown seemed to be etched permanently on his face.
It was no surprise to Frances that he knew her mother already. Lady Ramsbury was familiar with many in high society, having made the acquaintances of the mamas of the gentlemen she considered good prospects for her daughters.
“It’s the London Season, and I have two unmarried daughters at home. Of course, I was going to be here,” Albina retorted. “Be sure to tell your mother I send her love when you see her.”
“Right, of course.” Lord William shuffled his feet awkwardly.
“Is there something wrong?” Lord Cormick inquired, eyeing his friend with suspicion. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’ve just received some worrying news from Huntington. Lord Edgar just informed me.”
Frances’s ears perked up the mention, and she found herself suddenly more invested in this conversation than she had been all evening.
“What is it?” Lord Cormick asked urgently.
“Well…” Lord William hesitated briefly. “There have been reports that the Duke’s brother and his wife have perished in a dreadful accident.”
A hush fell over the small assembly, and Frances felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Color drained from her face, her hands trembling ever so slightly at her sides. Thankfully, the rest were too engrossed in the conversation to notice.
“Say it isn’t so. But they were much too young for such a tragedy,” Lord Cormick replied.
“I have been shaken by the news ever since I heard it. I saw him just last month on a hunting trip,” Lord William sighed.
“That truly is a tragedy,” Albina chimed in, though she did not appear too distraught by the news. “A tragic end to a disgraceful marriage.”
“I wonder what the family thinks,” Lord William continued. “He was truly the black sheep of the family. I heard that the late Duke disowned him over his decision to marry someone not of his own choosing.”
“We all know that the fact he chose for himself was not the problem, but ratherwhohe chose,” Lord Cormick reminded him.
“He should have known better than to marry a commoner. Clearly, it proved to be a terrible idea. First, he lost the support of his family, and now he’s lost his wife,” Albina added.
“I hate to speculate, but the marriage did bring about a bout of bad luck.” Lord Cormick nodded.
“Be as it may, it’s a loss for our community,” Lord William said, the only one who showed an ounce of empathy.
Frances felt a deep-seated disgust bubble inside her as she listened to the crass manner in which they spoke about a sudden loss of life. She clenched her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“Frances?” Albina turned to her. “My dear, you’ve turned white like a ghost. Is everything alright with you?”
“I…” Frances struggled to formulate a coherent sentence. “What about the children? Are they alright?”
“The Duke of Huntington should take care of them now, or so I’ve been told,” Lord William replied. “It would be far too much of a scandal to abandon them.”
Frances felt her knees almost give out, but she composed herself promptly, so as not to rouse suspicion. “I see. Please excuse me for a moment, I shall be right back.”
“Frances!” her mother called after her, but she got away from them as fast as she could.
Darting into the ladies retiring room, Frances quickly hooked the latch on the door so that she could have a moment alone.
