This mingled security and desire was something more than Frances had ever felt before, and finally seemed attainable, if not tonight. She fell asleep on the wings of hope and slept until morning.
“I heard you going to bed last night,” Frances said when Ambrose joined her at breakfast the following morning, her heart lifting slightly with the sound of his footsteps before he even appeared. “I hope your day in London was not too long and tiring.”
“I did all that I needed to do,” he told her, as he poured out coffee for both of them from the steaming silver pot newly brought by the maid. “I don’t suppose I enjoyed my day as much as Winnieenjoyed hers, however, and hopefully you also. Levene Hall is always a jolly place.”
“Yes, it is,” returned Frances, with a laugh. “I liked your step-relations very much and Winnie acquired a whole orange cake from their cook on the strength of your partiality to it. I believe it could only have been a better day if you were there.”
When Frances spoke these unthinking words, Ambrose’s smile made her question her intent. Had she meant that the day would have been better for Winnie, or for herself? Both of them, if she were honest. Well, however Ambrose took her statement, it certainly seemed to please him.
“I shall be here all day today and tomorrow too,” he hold her. I must not neglect either of you, regardless of other responsibilities. I brought presents from London too. I did think of giving you your present last night…but it was too late and I did not wish to disturb you.”
“Oh,” Frances acknowledged, now coloring as she remembered his footfall outside her room and imagining him hesitating there with some gift in his hands. “That is very kind. You need not buy something for me every time you are in town.”
“I need not, but perhaps I wanted to,” he returned, his smile so warm and handsome that Frances could neither look away nor stop herself from returning it. “I only hope I have not overstepped. I am trying very hard not to, Frances.”
“I shall look forward to receiving your gift,” Frances told him and his smile broadened again, making her think of the rays of sunlight falling onto their shared bed in her dream.
London, gossip and the past all seemed very far away today. There was only Westall Hall, its good-looking and solicitous duke, and her sweet little stepdaughter who would be eating luncheon with them in the dining room rather than nursery that day. Frances wished that it could always be like this.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen…You must hide, Papa! I’m the seeker and I’m almost up to twenty.”
Winifred’s excited little voice sounded faintly but clearly from the quiet hallway where she was counting up her turn in hide-and-seek. Behind the thick gray velvet curtains which she had drawn across the windows in the library, Frances smiled to herself.
After luncheon there had still been a quarter hour remaining before Winnie was due back in Miss Winters’ schoolroom. When her stepdaughter suggested that they spend these minutes playing hide-and-seek, Frances had agreed.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to hide now, Winnie,” Ambrose assured his daughter good-humoredly. “Someone was sweeping in my favorite hiding place and I had to change. Count slower.”
“Silly Papa, I know that you always you try to hide in the boot cupboard! Go somewhere different today. Fifteeeeeen…, sixteeeeen…, seventeeeeeeen…”
Frances smiled again at this playful exchange between father and daughter. Ambrose had been as enthusiastic about hide-and-seek as Winnie and Frances guessed this was a game he had played often with her over the years. As for Frances, there really was nothing she would rather do with her afternoon than stay indoors and play with her little family.
Winifred had been very pleased with the blue hair-ribbon that Ambrose had bought in London, insisting on immediately tying it at the end of her long dark braid. Although his eyes twinkled, Ambrose had remained silent when reminded severely by Winnie that he must always bring gifts for both of them now, and not leave Frances out.
Indeed, despite talking of Frances’ present at breakfast, it had not yet appeared. Was he only teasing Winnie by pretending to have forgotten, Frances wondered? What might her gift be? From his choice of perfume and jewelry, she already knew that the Duke of Westall was thoughtful and had good taste…
Frances almost laughed aloud in her hiding place at finding herself nearly as excited as Winnie in her speculation over presents. Ambrose was teasing Frances herself, she guessed. Did he want her to ask him about her gift? With good humor, she decided that she would probably indulge him.
At that moment, Frances heard the library door opening and supposed for a moment that Winnie had given up counting early. Then, the door closed very quietly and adult footsteps swiftly crossed the wooden floor before a hand pulled at the curtains and Ambrose almost stepped straight into her arms.
Almost stumbling together, they caught one another and gaped with surprise before laughing. Frances put a finger to her lips and tried to straighten her face as she hushed him.
Ambrose smiled again after stilling himself. How handsome he looked, even slightly rumpled and in his shirt sleeves for the game, and even in this peculiar moment…
“The wildflower perfume suits you,” he whispered to Frances, after breathing in appreciatively. “I’m glad you like it.”
It was a strange moment for such a compliment but it did not feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. Hiding together behind the curtain in the informality of playtime, Frances received it gladly, thanking him with her own smile. Hiding here felt safe, just as staying at Westall Park felt safe, just as being in Ambrose’s arms felt safe…
“Eighteeeeeen, nineteeeeeen, twenty! Coming, ready or not!” called out Winifred’s voice from the hallway.
The pattering of small footsteps could then be heard as Winnie ran about the hallway and began opening doors and conducting brief searches of nearby rooms.
“This is a good hiding place,” Ambrose whispered again to Frances. “I should have wondered why the curtains were closed.”
“Shhhh!” urged Frances, just as the turning of the library door handle sounded.
Childish footsteps came running into the library, darting about in the direction of the bookshelves and pausing occasionally, presumably as Winnie looked beneath desks and tables. Behind the curtain, meanwhile, Ambrose had taken Frances’ hand and held it in his own, as though this was part of the game. The two adults looked at one another with bated breath and dancing eyes, expecting to be uncovered at any second.
