A Rogue's Reckoning, page 11
If Tessa insisted that he allow women into The Emerald Garter first, then it was likely he would never cross the threshold.
Seth had expected the butler to retrieve him. Instead, Frances glided down the stairs dressed in her pelisse and bonnet.
A wave of disappointment swept over him. “You are going out?” he asked. She was to be at home to him.
“We are going out,” Frances dictated.
Relief quickly replaced his disappointment. “Where are we going?”
“I would like to stroll along Bond Street.”
“Shopping?”
“Oh, I have no intention of purchasing anything.”
Seth frowned. “Then why stroll along Bond Street?”
“Because I enjoy looking.” She graced him with a smile. “I also understand if you do not wish to accompany me for I understand that most gentlemen find the very idea of shopping with a woman quite grueling.
While this was an accurate statement, Seth suspected that would not be the case with Frances, especially since she did not intend to purchase any items.
Though, he still did not understand the purpose of simply looking.
“I would be honored to accompany you.”
Seth offered his arm and escorted her outside to his low phaeton.
Frances fought the urge to smile when she saw the phaeton. He had already anticipated that if they were to travel anywhere that she would refuse to get into a closed carriage with him.
It was not only because she did not want to see her reputation damaged, but she did not trust him, or herself, to be secluded and alone.
Goodness, his kisses and caresses had flustered her as her body heated yesterday. Had Bethany not called up, who knows what more they would have done and even now, her body craved his touch and her nether region had the oddest ache. Seth frustrated her in so many ways, but mostly it was her physical state that was affected. She needed to be very careful when alone with him until the time was right.
He tooled the carriage into traffic and drove through Soho until they reached Piccadilly. He then found a place to leave his low phaeton and assisted her to the walk before he offered his arm and began their stroll past the various shops. Occasionally she would stop and gaze into the windows.
“How come you do not enter any of the establishments?” he finally asked.
“There is no purpose to as I do not intend to buy.”
This was a favorite pastime of hers. She enjoyed seeing what the latest fashions were, and the gloves, hats and parasols being offered. There were watchmakers, jewelers, and all manner of items being sold that Society coveted.
“There is nothing that you want?” he asked.
Frances laughed. “There are many things I want, Seth. However, there is nothing that I need.” Even though she could spend some of her funds, Frances would not do so on frivolity. She had only done so once and that had been on the emerald gown that she did not wear for nearly a year, and a delicate necklace with the small emerald. Even after she had made the purchase, she had been filled with guilt. Her uncle still struggled, as did her brother, to restore the estate to what it had once been and she should have assisted instead of spending money on items that she did not need. Since then, Frances had not purchased anything that was not necessary.
“Is it because you were so poor when you were younger?” he asked quietly.
“That was the original reason,” she answered. “I have also found that it is foolish to purchase items simply because they are wanted or, as many in Society, to be surrounded by useless decorations because of how a person wishes to be viewed or who they want to impress.”
“Some purchase decorations because they do not wish to sit in an empty room that contains only a settee, chairs and tables.”
“I understand,” Frances answered. “There are paintings that I appreciate very much, and vases that have been artfully crafted. These items serve a purpose because they bring joy and could improve a mood. But to have items simply to own them serves no purpose. At least to me,” she answered. “One day, if I have my own home, I will likely purchase such items—the ones that make me happy to look upon—but never anything that others believe are necessary when they serve no purpose.”
Seth stopped in front of a stationer’s shop.
“Is there something you need?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered then held the door so that they could enter. He then took his time inspecting not only the paper options but also the ink before he chose what he wished to purchase and then asked that it be delivered to The Emerald Garter.
“I had forgotten that I was low on ink.” He chuckled.
“What of writing implements?” she asked. “How else will you transfer the ink to the paper?”
“I have quills aplenty,” he answered. “When I was younger, I often lost quills and would purchase new, then find the old, and thus the pattern continued until I was packing up all my belongings to move to London and discovered missing quills everywhere and gathered them in a box, where most of them still remain. The box sits on a shelf in my office and I have not had to purchase a new quill since I opened The Emerald Garter.”
“You will likely find nearly a dozen on your desk at your home, if you ever decide to review the documents stacked upon it.” She still could not believe the disarray, especially the unopened missives. How could he not want to know what they contained?
“If you would like, I invite you to organize my desk.”
Frances pulled back in surprise. “That is far too personal an endeavor for me. I am certain there are documents that you would like to remain private.”
Seth stopped and turned to face her. “I keep no secrets from you, Franny, and will happily tell you anything that you wish to know.”
Goodness, she had not expected such a declaration or such intensity in his blue eyes.
“I also hope that one day, there are no secrets between us.” He reached forward and clasped her hand. “I want to know everything that I missed in the five years we were apart.”
Her heart pounded against her sternum and Frances swallowed past the lump in her throat. She wanted to tell him everything, just as they had shared everything that happened while they were apart when they still visited in the cottage. But that was before he rejected her love and friendship.
Seth did not deserve her secrets, but she longed to tell him everything and unburden her concerns, just as she had once done, and return to the happiest she had ever been.
“I…um…” What did she say?
“Lord Seth Claxton and Miss Hawthorn, I am so happy that I have encountered you.”
As if broken from a spell, Frances blinked and turned to find Lady Perrington bearing down on them.
“I do hope that you will both attend,” she gushed.
Frances shifted her eyes to Seth, not certain to what Lady Perrington referred. She barely knew the woman. In fact, Frances had not spoken to her since she had first come to London and before she was relegated to her place among the wallflowers.
“Attend what?” Seth asked.
“My ball, of course. To be held on Tuesday.”
“I do not recall receiving such an invitation,” Seth answered.
It was likely in one of the stacks on his desk, but Frances held her tongue. Besides being a hostess of many entertainments, Lady Perrington was a gossip and Frances didn’t want the woman to know that she was familiar with Seth’s desk, located in his home.
“I did not receive one either,” Frances offered.
Lady Perrington frowned. “I was assured they were delivered to your homes.”
If it had been to her Mayfair home, then it was likely sitting on a tray near the entry, where the small staff would have set it. Perhaps she should visit her former home to make certain there was no other correspondence waiting for her there, though they knew where to send any missives received.
“It does not matter,” Lady Perrington dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I am hosting a ball on Tuesday and expect both of you to be in attendance.”
“I will see if I can arrange my schedule,” Seth offered.
Did he not want to attend?
Of course, he likely did not. He rarely went into Society.
“As will I,” Frances also answered, not certain if she wanted to attend a ball. Other than the masquerade she had attended, Frances rarely enjoyed herself, unless there was a card room. If so, then she would give it consideration and maybe gain more clientele for Athena’s Salon.
“I insist that you both be present, and together,” the woman said. “I will see you then.”
“Ah, now I understand,” Seth said as Lady Perrington departed.
“What do you understand?” Frances asked.
“She loves to gossip and be the first to know anything. You have been seen in my presence and I have recently returned to Society. She wants to be the first to have us as guests, together.”
Frances nearly groaned. “I do not wish to be put on display by meddling matrons.”
Seth chuckled and offered his arm. “Instead, consider it an opportunity for us to share another waltz.”
Chapter Eighteen
Even though he had expected to be turned away, Seth still called on Frances in the afternoon on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and he accepted that she was resting from her duties that kept her busy to the early morning hours at Athena’s Salon. Therefore, each afternoon he returned home and put his mind to clearing the desk in the library.
It also took much longer than he had anticipated as he realized that not only were there books to review and update, but also several missives that required his attention. He had assumed they were simply invitations to be ignored since he had not intended on attending another ball. The one Lady Heath held had not only been a disappointment but a bore, and he assumed that the ones held by those in Society would be no different.
However, he did come across the one from Lady Perrington and set it aside as he would be in attendance, and with Frances on his arm.
The rest, he nearly tossed, but then reconsidered as he did not know what the future held and perhaps, he might just enjoy being in Society with Frances.
In the evenings, he attended to The Emerald Garter as he was at a loss with Frances not available to him. However, that did not mean that she was not constantly on his mind. So often he shook his head over how foolish he had been five years ago.
Yes, he had his reasons, much of it fueled by fear, but it had still been the wrong decision. He should have found her at the very first function, danced with her, then courted her, then married. They may have even become parents by now.
Except, it is also likely he would have set aside his dreams for The Emerald Garter because he had wanted to be financially independent of his father. Seth would not have taken such a risk had Frances been in his life.
Seth pushed his thoughts aside, nothing could be done about his decisions so long ago, but what he did going forward mattered very much.
As he was about to leave to call on Frances, he was stopped when a missive arrived from his older brother, Wesley, Marquess Epworth.
He almost dismissed it because there were already four letters on his desk from his father that he had yet to answer.
Seth held his brother’s letter for but a moment then tossed it on top of the others and strode from the room only to stop and return to his desk. He wanted to be able to tell Frances that he had cleaned his desk, opened every missive and invitation, and balanced his books, which he could not do if he did not read his brother’s letter.
Besides, this was from Wesley, not his father and ill-ease settled into the pit of his stomach. His father had been demanding that he return home for an important discussion. What if he was ill, or getting too old to continue with matters that were required at the estate? He was only two and fifty and their grandfather had worked in the caves…it was in his fiftieth year that his grandfather had decided he was too old to haul crates from boats or load wagons and took to managing matters from the desk in his library overlooking the coast.
He tore the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Seth,
As you have ignored father’s missives, I am instructing you to return to Forester Park by Monday, October 6th. Decisions need to be made and there will be a family gathering where you are expected to be in attendance. Also, if it would be not too difficult, bring our sister, Blythe, with you.
Wesley
Seth frowned. What was so urgent and why didn’t his brother write of the decisions that needed to be addressed? His father had not given any indication of why he was needed at home either, which only caused further concern because if it was serious, would they not write it in a letter? Unless, if it was of a very private nature, they may not want to risk anyone accidentally reading the letter.
October sixth was in a fortnight.
As much as Seth did not want to return to Laswell right now, he really had no choice.
With a sigh, he rose from his desk and strode to the door to call on Frances as that was the only plan he had for today but as he stepped into the entry he heard a small cry and turned to find Blythe grasping the balustrade and sitting on a step. Her face was a mask of pain and he rushed forward.
“What happened?”
“I slipped,” she winced.
“Are you harmed?”
“I am not certain.” Blythe pulled herself up, took a deep breath, then took a step before she winced and stopped. “I believe I may have injured my ankle.”
Seth climbed the stairs and swept her into his arms before carrying her to the front parlor where he placed her on the settee then lifted her skirt slightly to examine her ankle. Already it was starting to swell.
“George!” he yelled for the butler who appeared almost instantly. “Send for a doctor. My sister has suffered an injury.”
“What doctor?” Blythe demanded, almost in a panic.
“The same doctor we always call for,” he responded.
“I have not had cause to see a physician since before I left London.”
He had not needed one in years either.
Seth turned to his butler. “Who do we call?” he asked.
His butler frowned. “I do not know, Lord Seth.”
Blast! How could they not have a doctor?
“Is there someone you would recommend?”
“I have had cause to visit Dr. Xavier Sinclair. He keeps an office in Covent Garden.”
“Send for him,” Seth ordered.
“If he is not available, I will ask if Dr. Orlando Valentine can call.”
“No!” Blythe squeaked. “Anyone but him.”
“Very well,” George answered. “If not Dr. Sinclair, then we will find another, suitable doctor.”
“Why do you have an objection to Dr. Valentine?” Seth knew him, as he and his brothers sometimes frequented The Emerald Garter.
“He was at Waterloo,” she said quietly.
With that answer, Seth asked no more questions because Blythe would not talk of time following the drum and that was the battle where her husband had died. As she wished to avoid the memories, he would not force them on her.
“You do not need to remain with me,” Blythe insisted after George had left. “I know you intended to call on Miss Hawthorn this afternoon.”
“I will not leave you alone and I want to know what the doctor says of your injuries.”
“It is simply a twisted ankle,” she promised.
“You do not know that and you will not get rid of me so easily.”
Blythe rolled her eyes and leaned back against the pillows. “Then the least you could do is pour me a brandy.”
He grinned and crossed to the sideboard and did as she asked, also pouring one for himself. After he placed it in her hand, he returned to the library to retrieve the letters from his father and Wesley and handed them to her.
With each letter, Blythe frowned further until she had finished reading them all.
“Why do you suppose they want us home?” she asked with concern.
“I do not know. I suppose my question is, will you be accompanying me when I leave for Laswell?”
As the afternoon grew late, Frances became anxious and quickly realized that she was experiencing the same excitement and anticipation, and also worry, as when she had waited for Seth to return to the cottage.
How easy it had been to fall back into old habits, and former emotions.
When had she fallen back in love with that scoundrel?
Yes, Frances acknowledged that she still loved him, but thought she was being much more careful in guarding her heart.
If her emotions indicated anything, it was that she had allowed herself to become vulnerable again and if she were to receive word that he had decided not to call or no longer wished to further their acquaintance, she would be just as crushed today as she had been then.
That would not do!
This was not part of her plan, which meant that she needed to act sooner than she had anticipated. She had to get her revenge before it was too late and it was her heart that was broken again instead of his.
As the sun dipped and the lamp lighters came around, Frances could not bring herself to leave her set of rooms. It was necessary that she do so because Tessa and His Grace were to join them for dinner to discuss the upcoming salons, but Frances truly had no interest because she was too busy reeling from the fact that she had allowed herself to fall in love with that rogue again.
She truly thought she had been careful, so how had it happened?
Maybe it was not love.
It could simply be lust and desire. Misses often confused the emotions and as she had not ever experienced the want and need for intimacy before…well, other than when Seth kissed her at the cottage, she might have the emotions confused as well.
That must be it because she could not have possibly fallen in love with someone who had hurt her so deeply. Yes, a part of her would always love Seth from the past and what they had shared, but she was not in love with him now because it simply was not possible and would not do.
