“I’ll take you over the house and introduce you to everyone tomorrow morning. We all need to sit and catch our breath today, but tomorrow everyone will be eager to meet you, and as we’ll be leaving later in the day, we’d best set the morning aside for ‘the grand tour.’ “
“Leaving?” Francesca stared, first at Lady Elizabeth, then at Henni; both nodded. “If Gyles has asked-”
“No, no!” Lady Elizabeth assured her. “This is entirely my idea, dear. Gyles would never dream of giving me my marching orders.”
Henni snorted. “I’d like to see him try. But we’re only going to the Dower House-it’s just across the park.”
“You can easily visit-come anytime.” Lady Elizabeth gestured. “We’ll be there, like as not.”
“What she means,” Henni said, “is that we’d be only too happy to hear the latest, whenever you have anything you’d like to share.”
Francesca smiled at the older ladies’ hopeful expressions. “I’ll visit often.”
“Good.” Lady Elizabeth sat back. Henni sipped her tea.
Francesca relaxed into the daybed’s cushions, touched, somewhat relieved. Just a little comforted.
She’d been feeling a little betrayed. By Chillingworth, although she couldn’t justify that, at least not in words; from the first, he’d made his position clear and, despite all her hopes, he hadn’t altered his stance. Not in the least. She’d felt more betrayed by Lady Elizabeth. The Dowager Countess had seemed so kind, so… like-minded. She’d written so warmly, so openheartedly and with such welcome, that Francesca had, at first unconsciously, then rather too consciously, started to weave dreams.
Letting her head fall back against the cushions, she let her mind touch on that-her dream, the most central of her dreams, the dream that now would not be-for the first time since descending from the tower.
Sometime later, at the edge of her vision, she saw Lady Elizabeth stir, saw the dowager exchange a questioning, concerned look with Henni. Lifting her head, Francesca looked down and saw her knuckles white about the teacup’s handle. She’d relaxed, and her mask had slipped. She eased her grip.
Lady Elizabeth cleared her throat. “My dear”-her voice was very gentle-“you seem rather… fragile. Is anything amiss?”
Summon
ing a polite smile, Francesca briefly met their worried gazes. “I’m just a bit tired.” She wasn’t; she was disappointed. The realization prodded. If she wanted to understand her husband… and neither Lady Elizabeth nor Henni deserved her prevarications. Lips firming, she looked at them. “Pray excuse me, but I feel I have to ask. Did you know Gyles wanted, still wants, a marriage of convenience?”
Henni choked, then spluttered.
Lady Elizabeth’s eyes grew round, then rounder. “What?” she demanded, her tone rising. Then she recollected herself and in more dowagerish tones stated, “What utter nonsense. Where did you hear that?”
“From him.”
Henni waved a hand to attract her sister-in-law’s attention. “Horace mentioned something about that last night,” she wheezed. “About Gyles organizing his marriage of convenience, and how it was all a hum.”
“But that’s ridiculous! Marriage of convenience, indeed!” Two spots of color flew in Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks. Francesca had no doubt that had her errant son walked in at that moment, he would have been severely taken to task. Then Lady Elizabeth looked at Henni. “But you said it was all a hum?”
“Horace said it was a hum. Easy enough to see why he’d think so. But as to what Gyles thinks, I suspect Francesca would know better than Horace.”
“We discussed it this morning,” Francesca said. “He’s adamant it be so.”
Lady Elizabeth waved commandingly. “Tell me. If I’ve raised a son ignorant enough to go that route, I deserve to know about it.”
Adhering faithfully to his words, Francesca repeated Gyles’s specifications for their marriage. She omitted all mention of his mistake-that was strictly between them. Lady Elizabeth and Henni hung on her every word. When she concluded her recitation, they exchanged looks, eyes bright, lips pressed tight, then, to Francesca’s amazement, they both burst out laughing.
She stared at them in astonishment.
“Pray excuse us, my dear,” Lady Elizabeth gasped. “Rest assured, we’re not laughing at you.”
“Or at your situation,” Henni added, mopping her eyes.
“No, indeed.” With an effort, Lady Elizabeth composed herself. “It’s just that… well, dear, the way he looks at you-”
“Watches you,” Henni corrected.
“Indeed. Regardless of what he says, regardless of what he thinks…” Lady Elizabeth gestured, watching Francesca hopefully, then grimaced. “Drat the boy! How could he be so arrogantly stupid?”