Page 39 of The Quiet Wife (Stately Scandals #2)

The girls came to join them. “How did we do, mama?” Fannie asked, cheeks pink with excitement.

“You were wonderful.”

“Told you,” said Florence with a soft laugh. “Everyone loves us.”

“They do indeed,” Frances concurred proudly.

“Including Mr Prinsep,” Fannie nudged her sister.

Florence flushed but didn’t comment, leaving Frances to wonder if she did in fact feel warmly towards him.

Mr Prinsep was a very nice man and an excellent artist, but he was almost the same age as she was.

Far too old for little Florence, in her view.

He was, however, perhaps, suitable for a first crush.

She made a mental note to talk to Jemie about it and then made her way around her guests.

Everyone seemed happy and for once, Frances felt as though things were going well.

It made a change from some of the fraught dinners they had been hosting lately with Frederick’s colleagues from Bibby.

When the gentlemen re-joined them, and everyone seemed satisfied and entertained, she slipped away to pop in on Elinor.

She opened the door to find her daughter and Anna sat on her bed with a plate of what looked like madeleines, and Jemie sprawled in the chair.

“Oops,” he straightened up. “We’ve been rumbled, Elinor.”

Elinor spluttered out a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. Anna laughed with her.

“And there I was, feeling sorry for you for being left out, when all the time you are up here gadding about with our guests.” Still chuckling, Elinor lifted the plate and offered Frances a cake. She took one and sat on the bed with her and Anna.

“So, what scandalous gossip do you have?” she asked after enjoying a bite of her cake.

“We don’t have gossip, mama,” Elinor said, outraged.

“Well, I’m disappointed. Anna, Jemie, have you no gossip to impart?”

Jemie arched an eyebrow and took a cake. “Well…” he began, and then regaled them with outrageous tales from the art world. Frances could have stayed there all evening, but she knew she would be missed.

“I should go back,” she sighed, and Elinor pulled a face.

“We will follow in a moment or two,” Anna patted her hand. Reluctantly, Frances left her daughter and headed back into the fray to ensure her absence wouldn’t be noticed by her husband.

***

Back with her guests, Frances could see that her other daughters were behaving beautifully. Freddie, Alastair, and Mr Carlisle seemed bent on setting up card tables and creating much hilarity as they did so, and Lizzie and Rosa came to sit with her, laughing at the antics of the men.

“Your girls are managing the whole evening remarkably well,” Rosa observed. “I was sorry to hear they had been so unwell.”

Frances nodded, not even wanting to think about those anxious days.

“You must have been terribly worried.”

Frances swallowed. “It was a difficult time.”

Rosa nodded. “For both of you, I imagine.”

Frances clenched her teeth but managed a polite smile that she hoped Rosa took for agreement.

She was spared any further discussion by Alastair and Freddie inviting guests for a game of cards. As guests laughed and settled themselves into groups of four over the card tables, Alastair clapped his hands.

“What’s it to be, ladies and gentlemen? Whist? Hearts? Ecarte?”

“Will you play?” Frances turned to Rosa, who just chuckled and shook her head. “I’ll wager my husband will.”

Indeed, Mr Caldicott took up a place, and as the remaining guests settled themselves between the parlour and the billiard room, Frances excused herself and went to sit beside Fannie and Florence.

“I’m terribly proud of you both,” she said softly. “You’ve been remarkable.”

Jemie and Anna, returned from Elinor’s bedside, came to sit with them, and so did Lizzie and Mr Prinsep. They settled down, and Frances watched both girls as they beamed their delight. It really was turning into a wonderful evening and for once she was actually enjoying being hostess.

It was sometime later that Frances realised her husband had disappeared.

She wandered around the rooms the guests were using, stopping to chat as she did so, but could find no sign of him.

She wondered if he’d ventured into the garden for some air.

Or if his headache had worsened and he’d gone to rest a while.

He had been under a considerable amount of pressure of late, and sometimes he appeared quite worn. It was unlike him, though.

She called for more tea and cakes for the guests, and for glasses to be replenished, and satisfied that was all in hand, she went to check on Elinor again.

There was little so awful as having to miss out on a party.

She even had a vain hope Frederick might have popped in to see his youngest daughter but that hope vanished when she walked in to find Elinor sat up in bed reading, alone.

When Frances asked if papa had been to see her, Elinor just rolled her eyes.

Frances spent a hilarious fifteen minutes with Elinor, telling her all about the party before she left.

As she returned to the guests, she decided she should probably check that Frederick hadn’t worsened.

She hesitated, wondered if perhaps she should send his valet to his room.

He might not like her finding him unwell but then thought better of it and decided that as she was there, she may as well look.

As she walked along the corridor to his door, her resolve faltered. She so rarely visited his room. She almost quailed but gave a soft rap and opened the door for a quick peep.

What she saw rooted her to the spot with absolute, utter shock. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak…

She had never seen her husband naked before.

He came to her in a nightshirt, and always had done, and never once removed it.

But here he was. Stark naked. His backside nestled between two long, creamy, equally naked legs.

Legs that belonged to none other than her friend, Rosa Caldicott, who was moaning his name and clutching at him as he thrust into her.

She still wore her dress. He’d simply rucked it up.

He’d loosened her bodice so soft breasts spilled out.

Both Frederick and Rosa were so engrossed that they hadn’t heard the knock on the door or the opening of it, and Frances stood there, feeling like a complete fool.