Page 58 of The Quiet Wife (Stately Scandals #2)

Speke Hall – Liverpool

Frederick retreated to his Liverpool flat, and all his planned entertainments were cancelled.

It meant that Christmas was a quiet, family affair.

Everyone was subdued, but they were together which brought them some comfort and without Frederick, it was calm and peaceful.

It was exactly what Frances needed to recover.

Frederick joined them briefly on Christmas Day and they went to church as a family but then he left them alone.

Freddie had told his sisters what happened so the girls were unusually quiet. Frances hadn’t wanted them to know, but once they did it helped that she didn’t have to pretend, and they looked after her so well. Aunt Agatha and Miss Woodgrove hovered incessantly, and the staff rallied round her.

In quiet moments, Frances wished Anna could be with her. She missed her calm and warmth, but knew it was possible that she would never experience that again. When she thought of Jemie, it was as though someone had reached into her chest and gouged out her heart leaving her an empty and hollow husk.

Two days after Christmas she received a letter from Frederick announcing his intention to visit.

“I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?” She was in the drawing room with the ladies, taking tea.

“He sounded as though he would give your request proper consideration after what he did,” Lizzie said. “Perhaps listen to him, and see?”

“I did push him very hard,” she conceded, remembering his face when she’d mentioned his father.

Aunt Agatha put down her cup with a clink. “Darling, please do not start making excuses for him. And don’t let him come in here and talk you into changing your mind. You did what you had to do. I know it all seems terrible now, but it will be worth it when you can live free of him.”

Frances nodded.

“What does Jemie think?” Edith ventured.

“I have no idea. I haven’t spoken to him or had word from him since I left London.”

Edith gave her an odd look. “You mean you’ve gone through all this, and you don’t know what he thinks?”

Frances put her cup down and thought for a moment.

“This is not all about Jemie. I haven’t gone through all this just for him.

I couldn’t live with Frederick a moment longer.

If Jemie…” her voice caught. “If Jemie still wants me, then that would make me happy, but…” she shrugged, not able to explain just how she felt as it was too much. Too overwhelming.

They retired to the parlour and waited anxiously for her husband to arrive. William joined them, along with Alastair, Mr Carlisle, and Freddie. They sat with her like sentinels making it clear Frederick would not hurt her again.

When Frederick arrived, she sat up straight, hands in her lap. He walked into the parlour and eyed her companions with some disfavour.

“I should like to speak to my wife alone,” he demanded.

“I will be fine,” Frances turned to them. “Perhaps you would wait for me in the drawing room with Aunt Agatha and Miss Woodgrove?” She didn’t think he would do anything so foolish again, but at least he knew they were within earshot.

As the door closed behind them, she gestured for her husband to take a seat. Now it was just the two of them.

“I have come to you to apologise for my behaviour,” he said, his voice heavy with uncharacteristic formality.

“Thank you. I accept your apology.”

“Are you fully recovered?”

“I am making good progress.”

“No lasting damage?”

“Other than a lingering sore throat, nothing permanent. The doctor said I was lucky.”

He examined the floor and nodded. “I… have been under a significant amount of stress with the takeover and… everything.”

By everything, she wondered if he meant Rosa and the baby or her and Jemie. She surmised it was probably both.

“I understand.”

“That doesn’t excuse what I did to you.” He glanced up at her. “Do you really want to live apart? I thought we rubbed along together reasonably well. Have done for years.” He seemed genuinely baffled that she might not want to live with him.

“For the most part we do,” she agreed.

“Then what is it that makes you want to leave? Have I not given you everything you could want? We have the house here, we have the London houses, we have our children. I’ve given you clothes, jewels, status… What is it I have not given you?”

“You have given me all those things. If my life were all about… things and… and possessions, then I suppose I should be happy.”

“So, what is it?”

She took a breath to stem the tears that threatened, finally able to voice everything that she had been holding for all these years.

“You have never listened to me. Not properly. This is the first time in more years than I can remember where you have sat down with me and really talked. You never give me, or the children, your time, your attention, your… interest. You have never given me an ounce of affection. I don’t think you even like me and everything I do is wrong. And,” she paused and swallowed.

“And what?”

“I am afraid of you. The children are afraid of you. I do not want to live in fear of what you might do to me or to the children next time you lose your temper. Not anymore.” Her voice quivered.

He ducked his head and fixed his gaze on the floor again, so she continued.

“I would like to live separately, but I’ve no wish to have our names dragged through the society papers so, if I had a house in London,” she shrugged.

“I want the children with me, but they will want to see you too because they love you. I just need… my own home. I can see no reason why this cannot be conducted in a civilised manner. To the outside world, we just have several homes that all have staff, are well run, and we use all of them. No-one need know who lives where.”

He looked thoughtful, stroking his beard.

“I am willing to consider this. However, I must insist that we leave any discussion of a separation until after the purchase of Bibby is complete.”

Frances held onto her composure as her heart pounded. For a moment, she had thought he was listening. She was wrong. She knew exactly what he was trying to do. If she waited as he suggested, she would lose the hold she had over him and she would never be free. She had come too far to back down now.

“No. I want to see a solicitor and have this agreement in writing, and I want it to be legally binding.” She didn’t even know if that was possible.

“If I do, will I have your word that nothing of this will reach Bibby?”

“You have my word.”

“As you wish. I will summon my solicitor.”

“No, I shall instruct a solicitor of my own,” she insisted, hoping William would help her in that matter.

“Are you absolutely sure about this? I’m about to become a very, very wealthy man.” He tensed, and a muscle ticked along his jaw.

“You are already a wealthy man. I find I don’t care about that. As long as I have enough for a comfortable life, I shall be happy.”

He sat back and sniffed. “Well, if you are moving in with Whistler, it’s probably a good thing you don’t want much.”

And there he was. The Frederick she knew. He couldn’t be nice for more than a moment. There was always a snide comment.

“I will speak to my solicitor and have an agreement drawn up that you will accept.” She stood up, signalling the end of their meeting.

“If you insist.”

“I do, and I am not ‘moving in’ with Mr Whistler, as you so crudely phrase it.” She lifted her chin, anger coursing through her.

“For a moment there, I really thought you were listening to me, but you are not, are you? You will always be the same. Well, listen to this, Frederick Leyland. I have an appointment to see the Chair of the Board at Bibby at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.

I have letters written ready to send to the newspapers and the scandal sheets, and Lizzie and Edith are just awaiting my instruction to spread the rumours we spoke of.

” She had done nothing of the sort, but she took satisfaction from the shock on his face.

“So, unless you give me what I want, in writing, in a way that is binding by the end of today, I promise you, your world will come crumbling around you. Do we understand each other?”