Frederica looked away, her cheeks white save for a tiny flush of pink in the centre of them. “I have never allowed myself such thoughts and will never permit myself to do so either.”
“But why ever not?” Nora asked softly. “To have one’s heart filled with such a sense of love for another, knowing that you are loved in return, is the most delightful, astonishing, overwhelming state that I have ever been in!”
With a heaviness in her sigh, Frederica returned her gaze to Nora. “That is what is between yourself and Lord Hampshire, I recognize that. I do not seek to injure you in this.”
“Nor do either of us wish to injure you,” Nora said, urgently, as Frederica’s lips flattened, as if she were steeling herself against whatever Nora had expressed. “What you recognize is between us is also what we both desire for you to have. Nothing is holding you to Lord Hampshire now, no fear that your fortune, dowry, or your security is to be taken from you.”
Frederica drew a long, shaking breath. “You offer me the opportunity to make my own choice, I can see that.”
Nora clasped her hands tightly, reminding herself not to speak without consideration, without the fervour that was, at present, rushing through her. More than anything, she wanted Frederica to agree, to step back from Lord Hampshire, and to permit herself to find a secure match of her own.Can you not see the joy that might be yours?She wanted to say, biting her lip to restrain herself.
“All the same, I cannot.” Frederica opened her eyes and let out a sigh of what sounded like both frustration and sorrow. “I do not want… ” She trailed off, her gaze drifting away from Nora’s face and towards someone behind her. Nora drew a steadying breath and then turned her head to glance over her shoulder, wondering what it was that had caught Frederica’s attention. She saw nothing but the same group of gentlemen and ladies that her mother and sister were speaking with, wondering silently to herself if Frederica missed the presence of company and good conversation since she had been so long in mourning.
And then, a gentleman looked away from the others and directly towards Frederica. He was tall, with sandy hair and a face that was pleasant rather than handsome — the kind of face that suggested patience as a settled disposition rather than an effort. He did not approach immediately. Instead, he paused, as if reading the set of Frederica’s shoulders, the angle of her chin, the way her hands gripped her reticule. Only when some invisible calculation was complete did he step forward, and when he did, it was with the careful, unhurried gait of a man approaching a startled horse — no sudden movements, no presumption.
“Miss Longleat.” His bow was correct, neither too deep nor too brief, and when he rose from it, he did not close the distance between them. He left her a full arm’s length of space, as if he understood precisely how much room she needed to breathe. “I hope I am not intruding. I only wished to say — well.” He coloured slightly. “I wished to say that I am glad to see you out of doors. The air does one good. That is all.”
Nora watched Frederica’s face transform. It was not a dramatic change — not a smile so much as an easing, a softening of the lines around her eyes, the barest unclenching of her jaw. She did not step toward the gentleman, but neither did she stepback, and that, given how guarded Frederica had been only a moment before, was remarkable.
“Thank you, Lord Dumfries,” Frederica said, and her voice, which had been a thread, found something approaching its natural register.
“You are kind to say so.”
“Not kind,” he said, simply. “Honest.” He did not attempt to take her hand, offered no compliment that might have required a response she was not ready to give. He simply stood there, solid and undemanding, and let the silence between them be comfortable rather than expectant.
Frederica’s fingers loosened on her reticule. “I — I thank you.” She glanced at Nora, seemed to realize she had an audience, and the flush that rose to her cheeks was not fear but something far more human.
Lord Dumfries bowed again — the same correct, careful bow — and withdrew. He did not look back, did not linger, did not attempt to claim more of her time than she had offered. Nora watched him go and felt something settle in her chest — not certainty, exactly, but hope of a particular and concrete kind.
“Forgive me.” Frederica coughed lightly, her cheeks red now as Nora caught her gaze again, lifting her eyebrows a fraction. “As I was saying, I do not intend to give up on the engagement. I am well aware that Lord Hampshire might decide for himself to end our connection, but I pray that he does not.” Her voice wobbled, tears dampening her eyes again. “He would not force this upon me, I know. He is too honourable a gentleman for that.”
“Yes, he is,” Nora admitted, glancing back over her shoulder again and recognizing the gentleman who had looked towards them as the Earl of Dumfries. “But Frederica, if – ”
“I should take my leave.” Frederica, without any further conversation and indeed, cutting Nora off mid-sentence, bobbed a curtsy and turned on her heel. “Do excuse me.”
It was a very strange and sudden departure. Nora was trying to ascertain why Frederica had moved away with such haste when a gentleman walked directly past her and made his way directly towards Frederica and her waiting carriage.
Lord Dumfries.
Nora frowned, wondering if the gentleman had any ill intention, which was why Frederica had become so distracted when she had first caught sight of him. That thought was quickly dismissed, however, given the way that Frederica’s smile lifted, the corners of her mouth lifting upwards as renewed light came into her expression. Nora began to move away slowly, casting only the occasional look behind her and wondering why Frederica might not allow herself to be pursued by a gentleman who was so delighted in her company.
“It is all very strange,” she mused, coming to join her mother. Her brow furrowed as she made sure to stand in such a way as to continue to watch Frederica and Lord Dumfries. It was not that she wanted to find something improper which she might then go on to use as leverage in forcing Frederica to give Lord Hampshire up, but more that she was confused as to why the lady would not allow that fellow to pursue her in place of Lord Hampshire. Lord Dumfries took his leave of Frederica, taking her hand in his and bowing over it. The smile on Frederica’s face grew warmer still, and Nora sighed inwardly, wondering why Frederica would still push back from this gentleman, despite her clear interest in him.
Nora stiffened. Coming from around the carriage and towards Frederica was Mr. Rathbone — stocky, brown-haired, his shifting eyes darting towards Frederica and then pulling away again. Lord Dumfries was gone from her now, leavingher vulnerable and without support. Without even thinking to hesitate, Nora started towards him, just as Frederica climbed into the carriage. To her horror, Rathbone followed after her, climbing inside without, as Nora saw it, Frederica’s express permission. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she hurried as fast as she could towards the carriage, not thinking what she would do when she got there but having the only intention of climbing inside and demanding to know what he meant by forcing his presence upon Frederica.
The carriage began to move away. Nora dared not run for fear of catching the attention of others around her, who then might speculate as to why she had been in such haste. With fear clutching at her heart, she moved as quickly as she dared, her eyes fixed on the carriage until, to her frustration and upset, it picked up speed and was lost to her.
With frustration building, Nora curled her hands into fists, gazing in the direction the carriage had gone as if somehow, her determination to find it would bring it back to her. Her heart was still beating wildly, her pulse throbbing in her veins as she battled thoughts of the danger Frederica might be in.
I must tell Hampshire at once, she thought to herself, turning back towards her mother and sister, her mind running from one thing to the next. And I must know that she is safe.
Nora returned home, her thoughts in turmoil. She would send word to Hampshire, she resolved, but only when she had something more to tell him than her own fears. She slept very little.
The note arrivedthe following morning, folded once and sealed with plain wax that bore no impression.
Lady Nora — Might I call upon you this afternoon? F.
Nora sent her acceptance within the quarter hour and spent the time between the note and the visit unable to read, unable to stitch, and unable to sit in any one chair for more than five minutes at a time. She was in the small parlour, her embroidery abandoned in her lap, when the maid showed Frederica in.
