“I have no prospects to damage, Cathy.” Frances smiled wanly. “I have dedicated my life to my sisters, and that is why I must do this.Theyshall have no prospects if I return to London, if I stay at their side. Who would approach Juliet after she debuts, the sister of the woman who smacked Lord Sherbourne so hard that it left a handprint, if that very woman is standing with her at a ball? At her debut? And Lucinda cannot have another unsuccessful Season, or my father shall lose his mind.”
A deep, sad sigh shifted Catherine’s chest. “Oh, my lady… there’s not a moment goes by where you’re not thinking of those two, is there?”
“I have played the part of their mother for so long that I do not know how tonotworry over them,” Frances replied, as she lightly brushed her thumb over the newspaper, smoothing out the creases. “When they are married, maybe I will go back home.”
Although, I doubt I will be welcome.
Her father had been apoplectic with fury on the night she struck the Viscount, and his anger had not dimmed in the aftermath. If anything, her continued presence in his house had seemed to stoke his rage. For three days, every time they had passed one another in the hallways, or she came down to dinner or breakfast, he would leave the room, his scowl saying everything.
“You have disgraced us. You have humiliated me. You have probably destroyed your sisters’ futures. And what is worse, I have no doubt that you did it on purpose, just to spite me,”hehad said in the carriage on the way back from the ball.“I cannot bear to look at you. Your mother would be heartbroken, and I am grateful that she is not here to see what a wicked girl you have become.”
After all she had sacrificed for her family, to make her father’s existence that much easier, to ensure that his two youngest daughters grew into fine young ladies, that was all he could say to her. No understanding, no leniency, no sympathy. She had tried to explain, tried to defend herself, but he had not listened, snarling at her that he did not want to hear her wretched excuses.
“This is for the best,” she whispered, more to herself than to Catherine.
She was worth nothing in her household anymore, unmarriageable and scandalized. At least at this Alderwick Estate, she might be of use, not helping her sisters anymore—not directly, anyway—but helping a young lady who might need that same care and attention.
Yes, this is for the best.Her stomach twisted into knots.If the duke will have me.
Unceremoniously dumped on an empty stretch of country road, with vague instructions to “walk that way until you see the manor,” Frances was beginning to doubt her plan all over again.It was getting dark and the sky offered no sunset to light their way, rainclouds threatening to make their journey even worse.
“Do you smell that?” Catherine asked brightly, as she walked along at Frances’ side.
“Smell what?”
Catherine grinned. “That fresh air. Goodness, it feels nice!” She sucked in a deep breath. “Thathasto be good for you.”
“If we do not find the manor soon, I doubt anything will be good for us,” Frances replied grimly.
She had made the mistake of assuming that the Alderwick Estate would be in Bath itself, or close to the city at least. But they were out in the middle of nowhere, and the driver of the stagecoach had told them it was at least an hour from there to Bath. Indeed, he had been reluctant to even take them so close to Alderwick, until Frances had offered to pay him more, the sum making a large dent in the small amount she had brought with her.
They trudged on as the rain began to spit, cold upon Frances’ flushed face. With light fading quickly, she feared they might miss the entrance to the Alderwick Estate altogether. The stagecoach driver had not seen fit to lend them a lantern, despite what she had paid.
So, it was a welcome surprise when an enormous gateway appeared on their left, wide enough to allow two carriagesto pass at once with ample space between. Dark gray pillars anchored towering gates of black, wrought iron, while misshapen angels sat atop the tall stone posts, their hands hiding their faces as if they were weeping.
A shiver beetled down Frances’ spine, quickly giving way to a sigh of relief as the gate opened for the two women.
From there, a long and winding driveway, half-mud and half-gravel, deposited them at the door of an imposing manor: a huge building of Tudor red-brick with chimneys that seemed to touch the angry sky, and windows so dark that Frances felt as if she were being watched. It stood in a sort of squared-off U-shape, with a central courtyard of cobblestones that had certainly seen better days.
In truth, it reminded her more of a castle than a manor, with two domed spires topping the end of each wing, and crenelated edges running along the edge of the roof. A portion that resembled a tower stood at the very center. Presumably, there they would find the entrance.
“So… this is it?” Catherine remarked, her neck craning as she took in the structure.
Frances gave a hesitant nod. “It would appear so. How many other manors can there be along that country road?”
Steeling herself, she readjusted her carpet bag on her shoulder, and felt once more for the folded piece of newspaper in her pocket. Letting that bolster her determination, she steppedacross the threshold between the driveway and the courtyard and led the way to a weathered set of double doors directly ahead.
With a trembling hand, she knocked.
Several anxious minutes later, one side of the double doors opened to reveal a portly older woman with a silver chatelaine of keys and necessities hanging down from a waist belt.
“Yes?” she asked with a suspicious frown, as if she were not accustomed to visitors.
Frances took a breath. “My names is… Frances Whitlock. I am here about the governess position.”
She had almost given herself away, so used to putting ‘Lady’ before her name. Then again, perhaps it would be of benefit to her cause if shewereto use her proper honorifics.
No, I must not.
