“Indeed, if there are other young ladies who have not yet debuted, who live nearby, perhaps they could attend too,” Frances continued. “It would not harm her to have some more friends to support her when she enters society.”
His jaw clenched, hesitation rising like an itch within him. It was one thing for her to use her strange teaching methods in the privacy of the gardens, but at a dinner party?
“Please, Your Grace,” she said quietly. “For her, so she does not end up slapping a man on a dance floor and ruining herself in a single moment.”
If Harriet slapped a man who insulted her, who grabbed her, she would have my utmost support.He did not mention that Frances, too, had his support.
“Fine,” he said instead. “But you must make all the arrangements. I do not have time to organize a dinner party.”
Frances’ face lit up and, for a moment, she stepped forward as if she meant to hug him. At the last second, she seemed to realize, and just hopped on the spot instead, her hands clasped, her smile wide.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said excitedly. “You shall not regret it.”
Before he could retort that he had better not, she was already halfway down the stairs, sprinting off into the hallway that led to the kitchens.
Shaking his head as he continued up the stairs, he wondered if he had just made a terrible mistake. For if she learned that she could get what she wanted with a soft voice and an earnest ‘please’ and an imploring look with those beautiful eyes of her, then he would certainly be in a great deal of trouble.
“There you are!” Frances picked up her pace as she walked the last stretch of hallway, to where Harriet was just creeping out of her personal study.
It had been almost three hours since Frances had last seen her diligent student, though, in fairness, she had been rather occupied herself. There had been menus to plan, decorations to arrange, flowers to order from the gardener, invitations to write, and drafts to prepare for the scripts and character cards that the dinner party guests would receive upon arrival.
Harriet smiled and slotted a key into the lock of her study door, before putting it around her neck, the key attached to a silver chain. “I was writing my notes in ink, as you advised. It is already helping me to remember.”
“That is excellent news, Harriet,” Frances replied, patting her ward lightly on the shoulder. “But I have even better news for you.”
Harriet raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
Frances nodded. “Your father has agreed to a dinner party, here at the manor.”
“What?” Harriet gasped, her eyes as wide as saucers, her hand splayed upon her chest.
“Now, do not get too excited; it shall be a small, sedate, private sort of thing, but itwillgive you the opportunity to practice everything you have learned so far,” Frances said. “I have opted for six courses, but you shall not know what is coming until it is set before you.”
For a while, Harriet did not move, apparently frozen to the spot with her mouth agape and her eyes unblinking.
Worried that she might have broken the girl, Frances gave Harriet a light tap on the arm as she searched her face with the worry of a true governess.
“Unless you do not want to?” Frances said. “It is not too late to abandon the entire thing; the invitations have not yet been sent, though they are supposed to be collected in the next hour.”
All of a sudden, Frances had the wind knocked out of her, crushed in a ferocious hug. Harriet squeezed her even tighter and danced a funny little jig, the girl’s giddy laughter rippling down the airy hallway.
“Do not dare abandon it!” Harriet cried. “Oh, it is happy news indeed! I just… I do not know how you have done it. How have you managed to get my father to agree to such a thing? Do you know the last time he had a dinner party here at Alderwick?”
Somewhat suffocated, Frances croaked her reply, “I am afraid I do not.”
“Neither do I,” Harriet replied, chuckling. “Thatis how long it has been! My mother would attend dinner parties, but she never hosted any… and, oh, how I loved to listen to the wondrous stories she would tell me of where she had been. To have stories of my own… Frances, I cannot wait!”
A rapid rush of sympathy swept through Frances as she held the girl in return, her chest swelling with a sense of pride that she had done the right thing. She, more than anyone, knew what it was like to lose a mother. And as there had been no duchess present at Alderwick, it had not taken much to put the pieces together.
“My mother relished a dinner party too,” she confessed.
Harriet pulled back, her smile tinged with sadness. “I have missed having… someone around who is on my side. It has been almost ten years, but I still feel as if something is missing.” She shrugged. “My father tries—more now than he used to—but it is not the same.”
“No, it is not,” Frances agreed, thinking of her own father.
He could never have replaced the affection and attention and love of her mother, but then he had also never tried to. He loved his daughters in a… distant fashion, as one might love a cousin who lived at the opposite end of the country. Which was, perhaps, why he was more concerned with getting his daughters married off instead of worrying about what they might want, or how they were.
More now than he used to…Harriet’s words dragged her thoughts back to Dominic.
