He was sitting at the table, the windows to his back, when Frances entered. She wore a butter-colored gown and matching slippers. Her dark hair was twined around the crown of her head in two braids. She’d never looked more beautiful, and he was about to hurt her.
His chest tightened. He clenched his jaw.
She rushed straight to him, a string of words already flying from her pink lips. “Lucas. Lucas! You won’t believe it. Lord Kendall sent me a note saying he’ll meet with me. But he didn’t give any details, the coward. No matter. I intend to go looking for him directly after this.” She stopped short, really looking at him for the first time since she’d come in. “Why are you dressed that way? Where is your wig?” Her smooth forehead wrinkled into a frown.
He’d stood to greet her and moved to the side of the table. Pulling out the last chair for her, he gestured to it. “Please sit down.”
Watching him carefully, the frown still perched upon her brow, she tentatively stepped forward and lowered herself to her chair. “You’re frightening me, Lucas.”
Standing behind her, Lucas closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again. “You don’t have to go looking for Lord Kendall.”
“What do you mean?” The quiet innocence in her tone made him even angrier with himself. Regret clawed at his insides.
Lucas took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped to the side so she could see his face. He would not hide from her when he told her the truth.
“Are you all right, Lucas?” she asked, lifting her face to watch him. “You look…troubled.”
“Frances, there’s something I must tell you. I’ve been remiss not telling you ‘til now.”
She searched his face. “I’m listening. What is it?”
“I—”
Both doors to the library swung open and a group of no less than a half-dozen young ladies and one of their mothers came hurtling into the room. They were dressed in gowns of a variety of pastel colors and their talking and giggling filled the space.
Lucas cursed under his breath and dropped his chin to his chest. Damn it all to hell. He shouldn’t have chosen the library. People were always coming into the bloody library. It might as well be a public house.
The moment the pack of ladies saw Lucas, their chatter increased.
“Is that him, Mama?” one of the young ladies asked, pointing directly at Lucas.
Her mother nodded vigorously. “That’s him, darling.”
The pack immediately came streaming over, their giggles and laughter increasing until it was a cacophony.
“There you are, my lord,” one of them called. She sidled up to him and wrapped an arm around his, pulling him away from the table and Frances. “Don’t you know we’ve all been looking for you for two nights now.” The young lady had a fake pouty look on her face.
Blast. This was just the sort of thing he’d been desperately hoping to avoid.
Lucas tried to locate Frances in the crowd, but the ladies had managed to push him back several paces and Frances was still sitting at the table as far as he knew. He tried to dodge a few of them and make his way back to her.
“Miss Wharton!” he called, mindful that they had an audience.
“Lucas?” Frances called back. He could barely hear her over the din, but her voice was definitely filled with confusion. “Lucas?”
The cacophony came to such an abrupt and total halt. You could have heard a flower petal fall to the carpet.
“You’re calling him by his Christian name?” another one of the young ladies said to Frances, her hand on her chest, her eyes wide with surprise.
Lucas took the opportunity to plunge back through the herd until he stood directly beside Frances again.
Frances shook her head. She glanced around at the ladies. “What are you talking about? Why are you all here?”
“We’re here to see the Earl of Kendall, of course,” a third young lady explained, giving Frances a look that clearly indicated she thought she’d lost her mind.
“Won’t you come for a walk in the gardens with us, my lord?” A fourth young lady said to Lucas, tugging at his arm.
Lucas cleared his throat. “Frances, I—”
Frances turned to stare at him as if she’d never seen him before. “Why do they keep calling you ‘my lord’?” Her voice held a note of apprehension, and the look in her eyes was wary.
Oh, God. She knew. She’d asked, but she already knew.
“Frances, please, let me explain,” he began.
Her jaw hardened and she glanced around until she caught the attention of one of the girls standing next to her. “Who is this man?” Frances pointed to Lucas.
The young woman rolled her eyes. “Miss Wharton, honestly. You don’t know you were sitting next to the Earl of Kendall?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tears blurred Frances’s vision. Bile rose in her throat. She lifted her skirts and ran from the room. Lucas’s voice called after her, but she didn’t stop. She ran into the corridor, down the long hallway, around the corner and out into the foyer.
She was at the bottom of the grand staircase about to take her first step when he caught up with her.
“Please stop,” Lucas begged.
She hesitated only because she had no intention of causing any more of a scandal, and being chased up the staircase by the Earl of Kendall would no doubt cause the grandmama of scandals.
Frances clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him. She kept her chin lifted, her gaze trained on the top of the staircase. If she turned her head, he would probably see the tears in her eyes. She refused to give him that. “Don’t follow me upstairs. My reputation won’t stand it,” she ground out.
Two of the faster debutantes had already caught up with Lucas
