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Frannie smiled. “No, I’m saying it because it’s true. If I knew of this man you’re speaking of, I would go right up to him and ask him if he’s all right in the head. Truly, that would be the only possible reason any man would turn you down.”

The idea of Frances marching up to David made a laugh bubble up Jenny’s throat. “What a sight that would be,” she mused.

“I would do it, too,” Frances sniffed.

Jenny wiped a tear from her eye. It felt good to cry from laughing and not from a broken heart. “Of that, I have no doubt,” she sighed. “Do you know what bothers me the most?”

“What?”

Jenny picked at a stray thread on the duvet. “That I didn’t even realize I have feelings for him.” She scrunched up her nose. “Do I have feelings for him? I don’t even know. All I know is that I started to feel something, and I thought he did, too.”

She bit her lip to stop it from quivering. Just thinking about how things ended was enough to send her spiraling again.

Frances took her hand. “In all seriousness, Jenny. You are quite the catch—intelligent, witty, engaging. I don’t know why any man in his right mind would turn you away.”

Jenny swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat. “Thank you, Frannie. That means a lot to me.”

Frances stood up and walked towards the door. She turned back before leaving. “Will you join us for dinner tonight, or should I have a tray brought up?”

Jenny looked out the window—it was about time she left her room. “I will join you. But there is something I need to do first.”

Frances nodded. “Very well. I’ll have them ring you when dinner is ready.”

Jenny smiled at her sister-in-law as she closed the door. Once she heard Frannie’s footsteps disappear, she hopped out of bed and went to her desk.

Frances was right. Jenny was quite the catch, and David knew it too. Why else would he kiss her the way he did? She might be naive in some ways, but she would have to be positively obtuse not to understand what would have happened had he not stopped.

“If you learn one thing from me, Miss Bennett, let it be this—men like me are dangerous. We do things that can’t be forgiven.”

His words kept repeating in her head in an endless loop since she left his residence. What did he mean by “men like me”? He was angry. Of that, she had no doubt. But why? What set him off?

She huffed in frustration. It still annoyed her that he presumed to be acting in her best interests. As if she was a child who needed tending to. If there was one thing she could get across to him, it would be that she was not in need of a caregiver.

Jenny pulled out a piece of paper and dipped her quill into the inkwell on her desk. If he thought that abruptly dismissing her would be the end of their conversation, he was mistaken.

She would have the last word.

The next morning, Jenny sat at the breakfast table, enjoying some fruit, when the front bell rang.

Frances looked up from her buttered toast. “Who could that be? Are we expecting anyone?”

Jenny shrugged and nodded. “I’m not. Maybe it’s another carpenter for the library.” She smirked.

Frances narrowed her eyes at her. “Don’t even joke about that. It’s too early for me to get a headache.”

Both women laughed as Simmons appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Bennett? The Duke of Marlow is here to see you.”

Jenny’s aim faltered, and a piece of strawberry rolled down her bodice and landed in her lap. “I’m sorry, who is here?” she squeaked.

Simmons remained standing in the doorway, stoic as ever. “The Duke of Marlow, Miss.”

Jenny and Frances exchanged a glance.

Frances stood up, wiping her hands on her napkin. “Well, please show him to the drawing room. We will be right in.”

Simmons retreated down the hallway to collect the Duke.