A token of my gratitude.
Dominic
Frances could not even bring herself to touch the gown, in case it vanished in front of her eyes, and she woke up from the dream she was clearly having. Perhaps, she had fallen asleep on the bottom step and was still there, imagining this precious gift, imagining that someone cared enough to do this for her, imagining that there was a man out there who had listened toher story of duty and sacrifice, and had bought her what she would never have dared to buy for herself.
A man who was thinking of her, too.
“I shall not sleep a wink tonight,” Harriet said, as she jittered upon the squabs. “Goodness, I am excited! Do you think Frances is our neighbor? How far away do you think she lives? I know she is in Mayfair. Perhaps, we could call upon her while the servants get the townhouse in order.”
Dominic watched the dreary London world pass by the window, the uniform townhouses in their crescents and lines, the neat private parks that barely counted as greenery, the fine ladies and gentlemen taking an evening stroll before it got too dark.
He hated cities. He always had done. But he reserved a special level of hatred for London, with all of its artifice and gossip and relentless noise. He had never understood Althea’s decision to raise Harriet here instead of the Bath countryside, even after he had offered to reside in the hunting lodge.
“You have a big day tomorrow,” he said. “I think it would be best if we remain at the townhouse. Frances, too, will likely be occupied.”
He thought of the dress he had sent by messenger and wondered if it had arrived yet. Would she like the gift? Would it confuseher? What if it did not fit her properly? Madame Jonquille had insisted that she could guess a person’s measurements by sight alone, but then hehadbeen offering to purchase a very expensive gown; she likely would have said anything to ensure he did not change his mind.
It was hard to believe that it had been three weeks since he had last seen Frances. The time between her departure and now had been the longest and shortest weeks of his life, especially in the quiet moments when he had imagined her somewhere in the manor, forgetting that she was gone.
I should have kissed her goodbye at least.
The thought had circled in his mind ever since he had raced across the grounds, worried that he might miss her departure altogether.
It was not entirely true that he had been capturing escaped sheep the night before her departure. Rather, he had taken himself to the barn that was still in need of some repair and had worked through the night to fix what required fixing. A distraction from the knowledge that Frances would be leaving, and he had no right to stop her; the only thing taxing enough to get his thoughts to quieten for a moment.
He had fallen asleep at some point, and when he had awoken, he had nothing but the sun to tell the time by. With a choice of just letting her go without saying a word and seeing her once more, his half-awake mind had made the decision, and he had ridden as fast as he could…
More than once in the past three weeks, he had wished he could ride that fast to where she was now.
And say what?He waited for the answer to come.Exactly.
“We could just greet her for a moment,” Harriet urged. “I am certain it is around here somewhere.”
“I am sure we will glimpse her tomorrow,” Dominic replied, his heart feeling strange in his chest. “You can greet her then.”
Harriet smiled and sank back against the squabs, her eyes closed. “My first ball.” She sighed. “I cannot wait… and I cannot wait to show her what a fine lady I am now.”
“She will be pleased,” he said, as he imagined the entire ball falling silent, not for Harriet, but for a fiery, beautiful, remarkable woman in a gown of shimmering muslin. A gown worthy of a woman like Frances.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Thank goodness you remembered how to shave,” Harriet said with a grin, as she clung onto Dominic’s arm. “I was so worried you were going to escort me with that… hedgehog on your face.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Hedgehog?”
Hehadneglected his facial hair over the past couple of weeks, but not tonight.
“Beards are spiky, are they not?” she asked, tugging him forward, though there was nowhere for them to go. “Ergo, hedgehog.”
They were standing in a lengthy line of debutantes that stretched along the foyer of the Assembly Rooms, waiting for their turn to be presented to society. He had hoped to arrive early, but Harriet had fussed and fretted about her gown and her hair andher jewelry until they were almost late. As such, they were at the back of the line… and he could not see Frances ahead of him.
Her sister had probably been introduced already, while Harriet was still trying to decide if she wanted a curl to frame her face or if she wanted to tuck it behind her ear.
“Why are there so many?” Harriet muttered. “I planned it so that we would be late, so I could be the surprise introduction. A last-minute arrival.”
Dominic mustered a faint chuckle. “It seems all these people had the same idea.”
“Yes, well, that is very sly of them,” Harriet mumbled, as she rose up on tiptoe, straining to see above the heads of the ladies and their escorts who were in front of her.
