Juliet grabbed her sister’s hands. “But… you cannot leave London. How are we supposed to manage? Neither ofushave any prospects yet. You cannot, Franny! You shall have to wait to be married until after the Season has ended.”
“I will leave instructions,” Frances replied, as she squeezed her sister’s hands gently. “And you can just say that you will miss me.”
Tears welled in Juliet’s eyes, as she promptly threw her arms around Frances. “I will, Franny. My goodness, I will miss you.” She paused. “Oh, but this is wondrous news. My sister, a duchess!”
“Our sister,in lovewith a duke,” Lucinda corrected. “And loved by him in return.”
“It is a love match?” Juliet wept into Frances’ shoulder.
Frances chuckled and held her sister. “It is.”
“Well… that settles it; I have never been more envious in my life,” Juliet murmured, pulling back. “Oh, but you deserve it, Franny. If anyone does, it is you.”
“I… could not agree more,” came an unexpected voice from the drawing room door.
Frances had been too invested in her sister to realize that the door had finally opened. Her father stood there with a strange sadness to his face, his posture stiff and awkward.
“I have given my permission,” he added. “You are to be married, Frances, just as soon as you please.”
At that, three girls swarmed Frances at once, Lucinda, Juliet, and Harriet all crushing her in a fond embrace that left her heart soaring. And from the various doorways and hallways of the townhouse, she could see the staff smiling, murmuring their delight at the happy news… even if it meant that their work was about to increase immeasurably.
“How are we supposed to let you go!” Juliet cried.
“You shall be the envy of all society,” Lucinda declared.
“I shall have a mother again,” Harriet whispered excitedly, “though you are more like a sister to me.”
“She was ours first,” Juliet protested. “So, you had better take good care of her, and invite us to stay with you as often as possible!”
“Does this manor have a good library?” Lucinda asked.
Breathlessly, smiling so wide her cheeks ached, Frances extricated herself from the crush and put up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Everyone shall be welcome,” she assured, glancing at Dominic. “And all shall be well. But, Juliet, Lucinda, you shall have me for at least three weeks more while the banns are announced. Then, Harriet, Dominic, I shall be all yours.”
Dominic wandered over and took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips as Juliet and Lucinda looked on with gleeful eyes. “I will be waiting for you, my love.”
“At the gates?” she whispered, her heart swelling in her chest.
He nodded. “At the gates.”
As everyone poured into the drawing room for a celebratory round of tea, Frances was already looking forward to being in that wonderful place again, surrounded by peace and greenery, with him.
One Month Later…
“Nervous?” Hugo asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“Not at all,” Dominic replied, as he stood waiting by the altar for his bride, his gaze flitting back to the church doors every few seconds, his ears pricked for the sound of a carriage approaching.
They had been granted use of the abbey at Bath for the wedding, and it rather felt as if the entire city had turned up to celebrate the occasion. The pews were packed, the congregation chattering in a lively fashion, yet there were a few familiar faces to soothe his general dislike of people: Juliet and Lucinda, Harriet of course, many of the servants from Alderwick, his other cousin, Octavia, and several of the acquaintances who had come to the pretend dinner party, with the obvious exclusion of Philip Grantham.
The man had not been heard from since he had fled the Running Fox Inn. According to Hugo, who had been tasked with keeping an eye on the viscount, the man had retreated to the home of friends in the far north, where his debt collectors could not hound him.
As for Harriet’s maid, she was sitting right there in the pew with Harriet, having been forgiven for her part in the mess with Philip. After all, she had just been obeying the orders of hermistress, thinking that she was helping a love match instead of a deceitful scheme.
“She has sisters,” Dominic pointed out with a smirk. “Perhaps, you ought to find yourself a duchess, too.”
Hugo rolled his eyes. “You see, this is the problem with marriage. As soon as those closes to you are married, they start trying to matchmake and coerce you into the same institution.” He shook his head. “I adore Frances, and I am so very glad that you have found someone to coax you out of your hermit shell, but I am quite happy as I am.”
Dominic laughed. “You are tired of hearing it, eh?”
