However, for the first time, she could honestly say she was working on that fault and making headway in overcoming it. She couldn’t take all the credit. Thomas had helped.
It was ironic that she had thought to make a bold move when in reality, Thomas was the one who’d done so by treating her like an intelligent individual with thoughts and opinions that mattered. He’d helped her see herself in a different light, something for which she was extremely grateful.
She had a long way to go and knew her courage was a fragile thing. Having men who’d ignored her in the past suddenly pay attention to her wasn’t going to help.
“I appreciate the...gesture, Papa. I truly do. But I would prefer to wait a while longer.” Though she dearly wanted to mention Thomas, she refused to raise her parents’ hopes until she had reason to.
The kiss she and Thomas had shared had been wonderful, and the thought that Thomas was interested in repeating it was, as well. But that didn’t mean he intended to offer for her. Added to that was his impending return to America. It was ridiculous to think that anything could happen in the remaining time he’d be in London. These things moved slowly.
“Now, Frances.” Her mother sent her a pointed look. “As I’ve already said, you can’t wait much longer if you hope to make a suitable match. All the good ones will be taken.”
One remained. And she hoped with all her heart he was the only one who mattered.
“Mr. Sinclair has been quite friendly toward you,” her mother added. “Perhaps this will convince him to be even more so.”
Frances smothered a groan. She wanted that too, but not because of her dowry.
“Your mother and I have talked about it, dear.” Her father fingered the wine goblet before him. “We think this is best for you. You must trust us in this matter.”
Her heart sank, for she recognized the look and tone. The fact that her parents were united on the issue made it unlikely that she could convince them otherwise.
“Would it be possible to wait to mention it to anyone until after the Christmas ball?” she asked.
“Darling, don’t you see that spreading the news now is perfect timing?” Her mother shook her head. “It will make the ball even more exciting for you.”
“I’ll be so busy overseeing everything to ensure the evening goes smoothly that I won’t have time to dance more than a few times.” Besides, she only wanted to dance with Thomas and was quite certain she’d have the chance since he’d already asked her.
Her mother looked at her father, deferring the question to him.
“Unfortunately, I already mentioned the news to a few friends,” her father said, shifting in his chair as if reluctant to admit it.
“Oh?” Surely him telling someone at his club wouldn’t matter.
Her mother cleared her throat. “I may also have shared it with a friend or two.”
Frances closed her eyes, knowing what that meant. She opened her eyes to look at her mother. The twist of her lips confirmed the worst—a friend or two meant everyone she had come upon.
With a quiet sigh, Frances reached for her wine. The next few days were going to be a challenge. The question was what would Thomas think of the news about the increase in her dowry if he heard it?
Chapter Eight
“Ouch.” Thomas examined a finger that had been pricked by a sprig of holly. “No one warned me about the hazards of this task.”
Frances laughed. “You should know by now that holly comes with thorns.”
A combination of league members, their friends, and family members had gathered to make garlands to decorate for the ball. This time, Lady Eliza Chadwick had volunteered her brother’s dining room for the work.
The spacious room with blue wallpaper and wood wainscoting had two tall, narrow windows at one end that let in natural light to aid their work. The massive crystal chandelier was lit and sent tiny rainbows dancing around the room, lending a celebratory atmosphere to the group.
Thomas was acquainted with her brother, Winston, the Marquess of Linford, but didn’t know him well. Linford was assisting the group, though under duress, based on his restlessness. Still, he lingered, helping here and there, offering his opinion whether asked or not.
If Thomas were a betting man, he would wager that Lady Winifred had caught his eye. Based on the way Lady Eliza watched the two, he’d hazard a guess that she thought the same.
Lady Eliza’s aunt was also assisting them and seemed to be enjoying the afternoon activity, along with Frances’ mother, and several other mothers of the league members.
“I don’t think the wire likes me either,” Thomas complained as he sent a teasing glance at Frances.
In truth, he was pleased to be there. The fragrance of the evergreen boughs filled the room, and it smelled like Christmas. Besides, any time with Frances was welcome. And if pricking his fingers helped to get into her good graces, he was happy to endure a little pain.
