Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  Isaac did not answer for a long time, leaning on his desk and staring down at the letter, as if it held the answer he sought. Eventually, he nodded decisively. “I will have to discuss it with Frances,” and Isabella was proud of him for thinking of her and not just taking the initiative to do it alone. “But I believe she will be amenable.”

  “A letter came for her as well,” Isabella admitted. “I believe she will as well, especially if it contains what I think it does.”

  Chapter 8

  Frustrations of Love

  Frances stared at the letter, eyes wet with tears, and wondered what it would take for her parents to see her as their child and not as a means to an end. Her father had been blunt with his request that she try to get the best for them from the marriage, but also pointed out that Catrina had found a few suitors herself and they had impressive fortunes—and were not injured in any way.

  It was a slight against Cleveland and though Frances couldn’t ignore the rush of anger at their derision of him; she was also furious with her parents for putting Catrina in the spotlight once again. Frances was clearly a sure thing, and though she wished she could send them a scathing letter back, she could not bring herself to acknowledge them.

  As she went down for lunch early that afternoon, Cleveland and Duchess Isabella were already at the dining table, and she slipped into her seat, aware of the shadow hanging over the table.

  “I am aware you have received a letter from my father,” Frances said, because the silence was growing too long to bear. “May I ask what it was he was asking for through our marriage?”

  Cleveland and Duchess Isabella shared a look and then Cleveland sighed, picking at his food. He didn’t look intent on eating much, and that put Frances on edge as much as anything else. “He wishes for a dowry.”

  Frances sighed, unsurprised. Her parents had always been convinced that any rich husband would honor them as well as their daughter. It was brazen and impolite, and Frances could only frown. “I apologize.”

  “There is no need,” Duchess Isabella said immediately. “The fact that your mother and father are consumed with greed is not to be visited on you.”

  Though Frances felt a surge of irritation on her parents’ behalf, she realized it was ingrained rather than anything she felt in honesty. The words were calming, and she was pleased they could see through her parents’ requests, but it still left her feeling uneasy. She looked at Cleveland. “What are your thoughts?”

  Cleveland took his time answering, clearly wanting to be careful about what he said. “I am distressed on your behalf. And with your blessing, I would have them left out of the marriage in every way, including inheritance of money.”

  “They will not take kindly to that,” Frances said. “My father is not a patient and calm man, Your Grace.”

  “I appreciate your input,” Cleveland said. “But I find that I do not care much for your father’s opinion.”

  For anybody else, that might have been a slight too many, but for Frances, it was a reassurance that she hadn’t realized she needed. The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough and when Frances asked to be excused, she disappeared back to her bedroom. She wished to compose a letter to her father to explain the situation, but she could not find words that would say everything she wished to.

  Thinking about the marriage to Cleveland was daunting but exciting all at once. Being a duchess was out of the realm of her thinking, but it still held a glimmer of attraction that she was loath to keep fighting. Embracing this life would not be easy, but with Cleveland’s help and with his attention, she would find her way. It was not that society scared her, but that her parents would not leave her be.

  As soon as they discovered what Cleveland intended to do with the marriage contract, they will not be pleased to sit back and let it happen. Frances sat at the window, staring out at the estate grounds. Though she had been here just under a week, she could not imagine going back to her parents, the busy town, the whispers, and the stares. Here was where she felt she belonged.

  There was a knock at the door, and Frances turned. “Come in.”

  Luther’s wife, Helena, was standing in the doorway, her head bowed respectfully. When she met Frances’ eyes, she was smiling. “My Lady, His Grace would like me to inform you that your horse has arrived at the stables, should you wish to try her out sometime today.”

  Frances smiled despite herself. Though the stables already had quite a few horses, most of them were carriage horses, aside from a couple set aside for Duchess Isabella and Cleveland. Cleveland had purchased her a riding horse, a sensible mare that would also run at a whim. Frances nodded. “I will be down shortly, Helena, thank you.”

  Helena backed out of the room. It was yet another thing that Frances would miss; there was so much respect in the house, even when she had been nothing but a guest. There was no allusion to whispering behind her back and she had to yet to hear a bad word spoken about her, even through somebody else. It was a change she was not accustomed to, but one she would be reluctant to leave.

  Another reason to fear her parents’ reaction to Cleveland’s decision.

  The walk to the stables was refreshing. It was a cold day, frost coating the ground, but the horses were restless. The new horse was tied up outside of her stall, with a beautiful black coat and a couple of white socks. She was gorgeous, and Frances approached her carefully. She had only been on a horse once before, an old cob that the blacksmith owned, and she was afraid to be seated on such a young horse.

  The stable boy, a kind young man from the town called Chester, helped her tack up the horse, showing her how everything worked.

  “I am sorry I am such a poor student,” Frances said, as Chester helped her on with the bit and bridle—the last of the tack. “I fear I shan’t remember the next time.”

  “On the contrary, Miss– my Lady,” Chester said. He was flushing, ducking his head, and she was charmed by his fluster. “I think you’ll do a fine job.”

  Frances laughed gently and mounted the horse. She would have to come up with a suitable name for her, but for now, she just wanted to see how the mare handled the frost—and having Frances upon her back.

  Thankfully, Cleveland had chosen well. As Frances got used to riding, going through the paces, Chester coaching her on how to ride and how to sit, she eventually managed a trot around the pasture. It was only when she had urged the mare into a canter, a wonderful loping gait that had the wind blowing through Frances’s hair, that she saw Cleveland against the fence, staring at her.

  “Hello,” she said, drawing the mare up against the fence. “Have you had a productive afternoon?”

  “I have,” Cleveland assured her. “You have taken to her well.”

  “I hope you mean the mare,” Frances said with a smile.

  Cleveland laughed a little, the smile transforming his face, and Frances was struck by the change that overcame him. He really was a handsome man, even with the scar more prominent in his joy than in his frown. “I would not presume to be so bold to the horse, My Lady.”

  It was Frances’ turn to laugh. She couldn’t remember being so happy, and it was all thanks to her new husband-to-be. Though she had no idea when the wedding would be, she found she could not wait for it to come.

  “Help me down,” she asked Cleveland, and he agreed, coming through the gate to the paddock. “I would like it very much if you would accompany me in the library this evening after dinner.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Cleveland said, holding out his hand and helping Frances dismount the horse. They walked the mare back to the stable together, Frances’s arm in Cleveland’s, feeling more at home than she ever had.

  Chaper 9

  A Happiness Impaired

  Cleveland could not remember the last time he had smiled so much.

  Having Frances in his home, filling up all the cold and quiet corners of the estate was a wonderful change. Luther and Helena, Chester, the maids and the staff, everyone seemed to ha
ve been affected by Frances’s presence. Perhaps it was her humble beginnings, or the fact that her family were so cold and aloof, but Frances spread a warmth wherever she went.

  Cleveland’s mother was not immune. Though she was older than he wished her to be, she had a youthful energy that had as much to do with Frances as it did with having her son home and safe. She often accompanied Frances on rides, and they had hosted more dinner and tea parties than he could count, all with friends Cleveland hadn’t seen in years. It was as much to introduce Frances to society in slow and increasing frequency, but also to introduce her as Cleveland’s wife.

  The news had been well received by some though Frances’s parents had yet to respond to the news. The lull would have worried Cleveland on any other occasion, but he was certain the letter he had sent them would explain everything without Frances having to be bothered. Frances spoke little about her family and Cleveland was content to keep it that way. He wanted Frances to be happy and thinking about her family was counterproductive to that.

  Mealtimes were just as pleasant.

  “So, have you named your mare yet?” his mother asked, tucking into her dinner. “Chester tells me that you have been calling her endearments.”

  Frances flushed, but nodded. “I could not come up with a suitable name and did not want to keep calling her ‘horse.’ I have decided I shall call her Cressida. It is, after all, my favorite mythology.”

  Cleveland knew about Frances’s love of knowledge, and her thirst for Greek mythology and theology. He was fascinated by it, especially in comparison with her own faith, which was staunch and immovable. She was fascinating in every way.

  “The perfect name,” Cleveland said.

  Duchess Isabella inquired after Cleveland’s estate business, and then conversation turned to the wedding itself. Though Frances had no set date in mind, she did profess to wanting it as soon as Cleveland wished. Cleveland himself was ready, there was just the propriety of the marriage contract being finalized with Harold Bell. When he said as much, Frances’s face fell.

  “If he does not sign?”

  Cleveland sighed. “If that is a possibility, it will be an arduous task trying to convince him it is a worthy thing. We could go ahead without it, of course, but then he has access to your fortune as your father.”

  Frances looked upset and Cleveland wished that he could assuage her fears, but he could not.

  Those fears almost seemed to increase when the letter arrived from Harold Bell not two days later. Duchess Isabella’s lips were a thin white line as she handed it over, her brow furrowed. She looked furious, as if she were anticipating the worst outcome possible, and Cleveland’s chest felt tight. He tried to calm his breathing, to remember what his mother had said to him those first days after he returned home. His anxious disposition had all but calmed in the last few weeks, but it was an overwhelming emotion right now, his hands shaking as he cut through the seal.

  Duke of Cleveland,

  I thank you for the request of marriage and the enclosed marriage contract. Unfortunately, I cannot agree to your terms and therefore will not acknowledge any engagement between yourself and my daughter, Miss Frances Bell. As she is once again free to marry, I would request you allow her back home so that we can arrange for her to meet with her new suitor. He had agreed provisionally to her hand in marriage providing she is at his estate in a week. If she is not returned home by that day, this situation will not be taken lightly, and we will demand recompense. If you wish to retain her hand in marriage, you are aware of our previous terms.

  Mr. Harold Bell.

  “Does he have no shame?”

  “I fear not,” his mother said as she took the letter from him and read it over. “Does he not understand that we do not have to adhere to this? That you could marry anyway?”

  “If he does not sign the contract, it would be easy enough for any lawyer to claim Frances’s claim on the fortune is thus extended to the family.”

  Silence fell over the both of them and Cleveland was terrified; he knew that Frances was happy at the estate, that he knew what she wished for, but he could not withhold this from her. “Mother, I cannot keep this from her.”

  “I would not ask you to,” Duchess Isabella said, sitting back in the chair and looking sad, exhausted, and every inch her years. She stared out of the window and sighed deeply. “You know what she will decide, if she believes herself to be the problem.”

  “I do,” Cleveland said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I could not stop her, mother. She is her own woman and I would not stand in the way of that.”

  His mother was not pleased. He could tell from the lines of her face, the look in her eyes, but Cleveland was trying to make Frances happy, not ruin her. He wished for her to make her own choices, and given the decision between having her parents ruling over her life and the chance to be happy with someone else, how could he get in the way of that?

  It would be a tough decision for her, and he would not make it in her stead.

  ***

  Though she took the letter from him with a calm hand, by the time she was finished, her hands were shaking and she looked close to tears. They were not overly affectionate, had never really touched beyond hands, but for the first time, he wished to wrap her in his arms and brush the tears away.

  Instead, he hovered next to the sofa and tried to keep a tight rein on his composure. “I did not wish to assume that I knew your mind.”

  Frances looked up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “What is it you would hope I would do?”

  “It is not my place to say,” Cleveland said. As much as he wished to give her his opinion, he hoped that she would know.

  “If you do not mind,” Frances said, rising from the sofa. She looked apprehensive and sad, clutching the letter to her chest. “I will retire and think on this letter.”

  Cleveland watched her go, feeling a sense of heaviness in his chest that he could not explain. It was not nervousness, but apprehension over her choice. He would not wish this pain on her, but he could not interfere in her decision.

  When he turned to see his mother in the doorway, the expression also unreadable, he did not know what to say to her.

  Chapter 10

  Choices Made

  Frances left the letter on her pillow, crossing over to the window and resting on the window seat. The grounds were coated in a fine snow, winter settling in with a certainty. It was quite thick snow, and though it would be a challenge to travel through, she could certainly get back to her family before the week was over.

  Closing her eyes, Frances leaned against the window. Her heart was telling her to stay with Cleveland, to be happy for the first time in her life. She also knew her parents and knew how single-minded they could be about some things, and her being married to someone they could get money from was one of them. It had been their sole reason for accepting the invite to the Cleveland estate in the first place. Catrina might have been married off, Frances might have access to finances, but if they could not agree to a marriage where they would be free to take what they liked, Frances would never be left in peace.

  Perhaps with another match, she could save both herself and Cleveland the trials of having Harold and Marla Bell involved in their lives. Tears burned her eyes and Frances let them fall, curling her hands into fists. Her parents were inherently selfish, and she cursed the day that she had been given to them. If only she had been elsewhere, perhaps, somehow, she would have ended up with Cleveland, anyway.

  As it was, this was her life now, and she had to deal with it. Though she longed to listen to the part of her heart that wanted to stay, she could not in good conscience affect Duchess Isabella and Cleveland for years to come with her parents’ attitude.

  Instead she would free them all from their influence and leave Cleveland to find someone else who would love him without baggage. She did not wish to tell him, was a coward at heart in this and only this, but she had to give him the news personally. It w
as not fair to expect it of somebody else.

  When she walked down to breakfast the next morning, a night of tossing and turning behind her, she had no doubt that she looked tired and worn from lack of sleep. Duchess Isabella looked at her with concern, opening her mouth to speak, but closed it as soon as Frances sat.

  “I trust,” Cleveland said, his voice even but his expression sad. “That you have come to a decision?”

  “I have,” Frances said, hearing her own voice waver. “I would not have them linger in our lives,” she said, unable to look either Cleveland or his mother in the eye. “Perhaps if I were to marry elsewhere, everyone will free of them.”

  When she finally risked glancing at them, Duchess Isabella looked furious, excusing herself immediately. The guilt in Frances’s breast increased, and she felt a rush of despair at hurting someone who had been so good to her. She was almost afraid to see Cleveland’s reaction, her fingers shaking at the look on his face, the resignation and sadness in his bearing.

  “I have hurt you,” she said, afraid of the answer.

  “No,” Cleveland said. He was kind, compassionate, but in this she did not believe she had earned that compassion. “You have done nothing wrong but retain the qualities any husband would be a fool to pass on.”

  “Thank you,” Frances whispered, though she doubted she had earned the compliment. “I am truly sorry.”

  Cleveland sighed, but when he looked at her, there was no accusation, just resignation. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I will remember our time together fondly and will not have you think less of yourself for this decision.”

  Frances breathed out a sigh, relieved that she was not being punished. Her hands clenched, and she excused herself, not wanting to make anyone else suffer longer than they had to.

  “Frances,” Cleveland said, before she could close the door behind her. “If you should wish it, when you know where it is you will be, I will have Cressida sent immediately.”