“I was not kissing her, she was kissing me,” he corrected as calmly as he could. “There is a huge difference. You must have seen that, or at least seen me throw her off. I did not invite her here and I had the servants remove her from the estate.”
Frances thought about this for a few minutes as though trying to recall the scene and then nodded.
“Yes, I do remember it like that. But what about the fourth nightgown? Where did that go if you did not give it to Annabelle? I spoke to Madame Rousset and I know you bought another, larger nightgown as well as the three your gave to me. If you still have it, I should like to see it.”
At this question, Ambrose burst into laughter.
“The fourth nightgown is in Paris, adorning the body of Ellen Yates, Miss Sinclair’s former maid. It is much appreciated by the Duke of Redford. I originally went to Madame Rousset’s on Colin’s behalf but found myself imagining half of the nightgowns on you.”
“Oh!” said Frances, coloring prettily at this rather blunt explanation. “That is…not at all what I imagined.”
As she laughed, Ambrose saw that dimple again at the corner of her smiling mouth and was instantly bewitched.
“What else would you like to know?” he asked her.
“Where have you been going in London when you are there alone?”
It was curiosity that Ambrose heard in his wife’s voice now, far more than suspicion and it soothed his heart. Frances had notcome here to break with him, although there was no guarantee that she might not still do it.
“Many places. I have called on the publishers and writers of scandal sheets and paid them for information. I have met with the Duke of Redford at our club, and plotted how to foil the schemes of Miss Annabelle Sinclair, including our successful plan to tempt her maid away to the Continent with Colin.”
“You connived in a young woman’s seduction?” Frances remarked with a doubtful frown and Ambrose shook his head.
“Ellen Yates first seduced Colin in order to pump him for information, rather than the other way around. He found that he enjoyed it and was keen both to repeat the experience and to help me in doing so. If you have a care for anyone involved in this particular European adventure, let it be Colin.”
Frances could not help laughing now even though this story was rather shocking. Well, he had vowed that he would be completely honest in answering her questions. As she giggled, Ambrose continued to list his less colorful activities in London.”
“I have visited the Dowager Lady Delingford and apprised her of her great-nieces doings, as well as writing to Baron Chedwidden. Miss Sinclair has already been taken home and I dare say she will be spending far more time in the countryside in future. Most recently, I have been meeting with solicitors and barristers to bring a case against Lord Mulford for the incident at Scovell Hall.”
“Will I have to give evidence?” Frances asked quietly, her eyes more frightened that she liked him to see. “Will my name be in all the newspapers?”
Ambrose shook his head.
“You will not, and no. I have it on good authority that Lord Mulford plans to flee abroad very soon. He fears facing a substantial fine, which, given his profligate lifestyle, he cannot afford to pay. Nor does he wish to undergo the assessment for insanity which the court might order when evidence is submitted. We have found ample witnesses among his own staff.”
Frances shivered and nodded, drawing her wrap more closely about her shoulders, making Ambrose long to warm her more thoroughly in his arms. How far away were they from that? Still some way, he judged from Frances’ body language, and yet he had to be encouraged that she had come there at all today, and that she had come alone.
“I wanted to thank you, Ambrose,” his wife said then. “You have been so very kind to me from the start, even when I have made your life very difficult. You have been patient with my fears, taught me so much, defended me from enemies…”
Ambrose shook his head and frowned, cold dread creeping into his veins .
“You mean to give compliments, but I do not like to hear you speak like this,” he blurted out. “It sounds too much as though you’re saying goodbye to me.”
“Oh Ambrose,” Frances exclaimed, her lip quivering with emotion. “I sometimes feel that I am broken.”
“To me you are perfect,” he declared passionately, and then without warning, dropped to his knees before Frances and took one of her hands.
“Don’t thank me, Frances,” he urged. “Make demands of me. I am your husband and it is your right. You have a right to my support, my protection and my body. Everything I pledged to you at the altar is yours. I need you to make demands of me. Can you understand that?”
Her graceful hand curled around his and, to his pleasure, he saw Frances’ lips part, as though in the earliest stage of desire.
“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish,” Ambrose reminded her, caressing her hand. “I am bound to love you, comfort you, honor you and keep you, forsaking all others.”
“Love?” she questioned, her grey-blue eyes .
“Love,” Ambrose affirmed, determined to hide nothing from Frances now. “I love you Frances, as I have never loved a woman before. There is no one else for me. There could never be anyone else. I know that you didn’t come into this marriage looking forlove, and I do not ask you for it, but do you think you can trust me again?”
Frances looked back at him with a gaze that was tremulous and slightly tearful but also filled him with hope.
