Thomas left the workhouse and caught sight of Peter watching him from the carriage. One thing was certain—he was weary of giving bad news to the boy.
“How was your day?” Frances’ father asked as he entered the drawing room that evening where Frances and her mother were visiting before dinner.
“Quite well,” her mother replied as she offered her cheek for her husband to kiss.
The affection between the two of them had always served as a reminder to Frances of what a marriage should be. She didn’t care about a gentleman’s title or his wealth. She was certain she’d be happy with a simple life as long as they cared for one another as her mother and father did.
Luckily, her parents agreed and hadn’t placed too much pressure on her to marry well, even as the years passed. But starting with the house party a few months ago, her mother had begun to mention one gentleman or another to Frances. That made it clear they were ready for her to select someone as a potential husband soon.
How could she when she couldn’t speak to men?
That is, not until Thomas. She’d actually managed to speak to him several times without stuttering, losing her train of thought, or staring at the floor.
Her achievement gave her hope, as did the way he looked at her. She heaved a sigh as she relived those moments with him once again.
“Frances?”
Her mother’s voice drew her back to the present and she realized both her parents were watching her closely.
“I’m sorry. I confess that I was woolgathering.”
“I asked your father what has him in such fine spirits, and he said it has something to do with you.”
“Oh?” Frances’ stomach tightened. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done that warranted his father’s good mood.
“I have made a decision.” He beamed with excitement, which only made Frances worry all the more.
“What is it?” her mother asked.
“I am doubling Frances’ dowry.”
Frances stared at him in disbelief. “Papa, I do believe my dowry was sufficient before.”
“Yes, but one of our investments has paid handsomely. I can think of no better way to use the money than to increase your dowry.”
Her mother clapped her hands. “That is exciting.” She reached over to squeeze Frances’ arm. “Isn’t that exciting?”
No, Frances wanted to say. She feared that men whom she had no interest in would bother her at every turn. That would only make her shyness worse just when she was starting to overcome it.
Of course, she’d had an offer or two over the years. But those had come from men who were only interested in her family’s money, not her. Increasing her dowry would only bring more of the same. How could she believe for even a moment that she had any value? Did Thomas think that as well?
“I truly appreciate this,” Frances began, trying to keep her voice from trembling, “but I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“Now, Frances,” her mother said with a pointed look. “You’re not getting any younger. You need to marry and start a family of your own.”
A pang of hurt struck her. Didn’t they realize she longed for that as well? She longed to find someone who valued her over her father’s wealth.
“I have high hopes that the news will quickly spread.” Her mother smiled. “Perhaps by the time the Christmas ball is here, you’ll have numerous gentlemen asking you to dance.” She clapped her hands together. “Who knows what might come from that.”
Frances shifted to the edge of her seat, hoping to keep panic from taking hold. “I truly would rather you didn’t do this, Papa. At the very least, don’t tell anyone.”
“Why not?” He studied her with a frown. “You should have your choice of husbands, and this will bring them forth.”
“It will bring forth the ones who don’t care for me but only for the money.”
He smiled—the look on his face one she detested. The one that said, ‘I know best.’ But he didn’t. Not in this case. “Luckily, I have a very intelligent daughter who can see through those men and easily dismiss them.”
How could she when she wouldn’t be able to form a word?
