Page 44 of From Unwanted to Duchess
“You never know. I still say—” Marianne stopped. “Oh, I think someone wants to talk to you.”
Frances turned, and her stomach dropped. Standing behind her was none other than her father.
Marianne slipped away as her father stepped forward and tried to hug her. His arms felt like an unpleasant weight around her shoulders.
She endured his embrace with gritted teeth, and she barely raised her hands to pat his back.
“My dearest Frances. I can hardly believe it. You are a duchess. I sent you away to become a lady’s companion, and within a few weeks, you have managed to make yourself into one of the highest-ranking ladies in Society. I knew you could do it.”
“Could do what?” she asked. “As you said, you sent me away to be a lady’s companion, nothing more. You couldn’t have known that I would become a duchess.”
“No, but I had hoped that you would. You were always so clever and quick-witted and charming. It is no wonder that?—”
“He did not fall for me, Father,” she hissed. “This is not a love match. He needed my help. I needed his help. It is a cold arrangement that means nothing for either of us. You have trapped me in a life in which I will be titled and rich but wretchedly unhappy. You have made me a gilded prisoner, nothing more.”
“I did not?—”
“You have trapped me in a life that will be as miserable as Mother’s was.”
Her father stood there, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. “That is not… That is not true. None of it is true.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat came from beside them, before James stepped out.
“Did you hear what I just said? I hope you did not. Things are awkward enough between us as they are. There is no need to make things worse.”
However, James did not seem to have heard anything she had said, because he placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.
“Mr. Langley,” he said. “What a pleasure to meet you. I wish I could say that Frances has told me much about you, but I am afraid that up until this morning, she had scarcely uttered a word about you.”
“Oh,” her father murmured. “That is surprising.”
“I would not know” James said. “I do know that I scarcely talk about my own father. But then again, he and I had a wretchedly horrible relationship becaise he always preferred my brother over me and made me feel as though I was second best. Quite the unwanted spare, as it were.”
Frances inhaled sharply. She could barely believe what he had just said. And he knew exactly what he was doing, because her father turned white as a sheet.
“Well,” her father said, “in any case, it was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. And you, Frances.”
“Her title now is Her Grace the Duchess of Somerset,” James corrected. “She should be addressed as Your Grace, even by her own parents. Protocol must be observed, Sir.”
Frances felt herself rise, as though she were growing a full inch. Her shoulders pulled back, and her head lifted. She had never felt so powerful, so vindicated.
“Right, of course.” Her father bowed. “Your Grace. You will have to excuse me. I am needed at home.”
He cannot flee fast enough, the coward.
“Of course. Do give my best to your wife and daughter,” Frances said coolly, as though they were not her stepmother and sister, but complete strangers. Which, honestly, they might as well have been.
Her father turned and walked away. She was about to smile up at James and thank him for his intervention when she saw the miserable expression on his face.
He dropped his arm and looked at her earnestly. “I do hope that you know it is not my intention to make you miserable. And however awful your mother’s life was, I promise you that you will not endure the same fate. I may be many things, but I am not a tyrant. I hope you believe me.”
With that, he walked away to join the crowd, leaving her standing behind, feeling like a horrible wretch.
