Page 81 of From Unwanted to Duchess
“Have you ever considered taking up employment with one of the scandal sheets so you can write helpful advice to ladies in need?” James scoffed.
“No, but perhaps I should. All the nobility seem to be getting into business these days, and that is an entirely untapped market.”
James shook his head.
Gideon knocked on the table. “Come now, let us get up. Play some billiards. Throw some darts. Anything other than sitting here, looking at your Friday-faced self. Maybe it will distract you from your thoughts, and you will stop planning the end of what might be a most delightful marriage.”
James got up and followed his friend, though even as he did, he already knew what he had to do.
He had to end this. Before it was too late. Before he lost Frances the way he had lost Marcus.
Better to lose her now, on his terms, than to lose her later in a way he couldn’t control.
“I cannot believe that he kissed you!” Marianne gasped, grabbing Frances by the arm. “Do you think you’re going to be happy together now?”
“I hope so,” Frances said. “I could scarcely believe it when he kissed me. One second, I was certain that I would die; the next, I was lying on the ground in the middle of the park, and he was above me, kissing me.”
She grabbed Marianne’s other hand and looked at her. “And I understood in that moment that everything he has done—his coldness, his controlled manner, the way he blows hot and cold—is all because he is afraid to lose someone again. The things he told me about Marcus…”
She paused, not wanting to give away too much.
“He told me the effect Marcus’s death had on him,” she said, knowing that was vague enough. “I finally felt that I truly understood him..”
“Have you spoken to him since?”
“No. We walked back to your house afterwards, and kept our conversation contained to the recklessness of the horse’s owner and James’s desire to introduce a bill to punish those who do not keep proper control of their animals.”
“That sounds very much like him. But you did not kiss again?”
Frances glanced into the glass displays of the shops they were passing on Bond Street, seeing her reflection. She had wondered if she looked different, now that she had been kissed by the man she could no longer deny she loved.
She had expected to look different, but she didn’t. She was still the same.
James hadn’t looked any different either. In fact, her stomach twisted a little when she recalled the way he had looked rather tense by the time they returned to the ball the previous evening.
They hadn’t conversed much in the carriage either, but she had chalked that down to him feeling somewhat at sea, given what had occurred between them. Still, now that she was discussing it with her cousin, she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.
“I think it’s going to be wonderful,” Marianne went on, not waiting for her answer. “The two of you make such a beautiful pair. Besides, James has always needed someone to keep his feet on the ground. Do you think you will live in London most of the time? I would like that. It’s much closer than Somerset.”
“I would like that too,” Frances said. “We have not spoken about it yet, but I am sure we will this afternoon. He is at the club now, but when he returns, I am certain we will discuss it.”
“It would be so much nicer if all of us lived close by, and you will be able to see Aunt Eugenia. Can you imagine how envious your father, your stepsister, and your stepmother will be?”
“Half-sister,” Frances corrected. “But yes, she will be envious. She already is.”
“Yes, with you being a duchess and all. But now that you have a handsome husband who adores you? And you’ll have a quiver full of children. Oh, you must go back to the Langley estate and present him to your stepmother and half-sister. Just to see the looks on their faces.”
“You know she is your cousin, too,” Frances pointed out.
“Yes, she is, but given everything you have told me about her, I must say I do not care for her. But in any case, perhaps she will change. Perhaps she can come and live with you and James, and it can be a wonderful opportunity for her too.”
Frances shook her head. “You do not know my sister. She would only use this as an opportunity to advance her own position.” She paused. “I suppose I have done it too, in a way.”
“Not really. After all, James is the one who gave you no choice.”
“He did. He did give me a choice,” she countered, suddenly feeling as though she ought to defend her husband. “I could’ve said no.”
“Let me ask you a question,” Marianne said as they passed the milliner’s and paused to look into the window at the wares. “Was there no part of you that cared for him even a little bit when you were staying at Aunt Eugenia’s?”
