Page 8 of The Quiet Wife (Stately Scandals #2)

Speke Hall – Liverpool

Frances awoke early the next day to find her three daughters clambering onto her bed and her son bearing the tea tray.

“What on earth is going on?” she struggled up onto one elbow and pushed her hair out of her face. “Where is Grace?”

Fannie flopped on the bed, followed by her sisters in quick succession, while Freddie hovered.

“We wrestled the tea tray from her!” Elinor pronounced gleefully.

“Wrestled?” said Frances in faint tones.

“Well, not actually wrestled,” Fannie corrected, “more… persuaded.”

There ensued a gaggle of explanations, allowing Frances time to settle herself in the bed, point to where the tea tray needed to go, and invite all her children onto the bed with her, including her son. She always felt Freddie needed a little extra love given his papa was so cold towards him.

“I was thinking that if the weather holds up, we should take the ladies for a walk and a picnic today. What do you think?” She hoped that this suggestion would make up for them missing dinner the previous evening.

A veritable chorus of delighted shrieks made their approval clear, much to Frances’ relief. Florence threw herself off the bed and pulled the curtains back. “Sunshine!” she proclaimed with a broad smile.

After much discussion of the proposed activity, a brief tap on the door heralded Nanny Jenks, who shepherded the children away, leaving Frances a moment or two of calm before Grace arrived to help her prepare for the day.

The children were far too old for a nanny, but Nanny Jenks was simply part of the family.

They all loved her, and she adored the children so the matter of her staying hadn’t been up for discussion.

Frances arrived in the breakfast room and was relieved to see Frederick not there, nor were any of the gentlemen.

It meant she could enjoy breakfast with the ladies in relative peace.

Afterwards, she hurried down to the kitchen and arranged a picnic, popped upstairs to check on the children, before rushing back to the drawing room to be with the ladies lest her absence draw attention.

It was the kind of day she loved. Filled with laughter and friends, with no sign of her husband.

It wasn’t long before guests were announced, so Frances hurried through to the grand hallway to greet them. She smiled when she spotted Edith’s brother, Alastair, and his companion.

He strode across the great hall on long legs, hands outstretched. He really was a fine figure. All golden hair and dark eyes.

“Dearest Frances, I’m so terribly sorry. We are appallingly early!”

Frances shook her head and took both proffered hands in hers.

He kissed her on both cheeks before turning his attention to his tall, dark-haired acquaintance. “I believe you’ve met dear Mr Carlisle?”

“Indeed, I have. How lovely to see you again.”

Frances turned to the older ladies who accompanied them. “Aunt Agatha, Miss Woodgrove. It is so lovely to see you. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

Aunt Agatha rolled her eyes. “With these two reprobates?” They all laughed good naturedly. “Good to see you, my dear,” Aunt Agatha removed her gloves. “A little too much to expect a greeting from my own nephew?”

Frances held onto her smile as best she could, for Frederick’s absence never went unnoticed by Agatha.

“I’m so sorry, he’s been awfully busy.” She gave an unladylike snort and Miss Woodgrove’s lips twitched, her watchful blue eyes twinkling.

Despite being dressed in the very best, there was no doubting where Aunt Agatha came from.

It was why Frederick found her difficult to deal with and was eager to distance himself from her, but precisely why Frances loved her.

Frederick had bought his aunt a lovely house, paid for a small number of staff, and gifted her a stipend.

She was grateful for all of it, but Frances had the feeling she would trade it all for a better relationship with her nephew.

Aunt Agatha adored the children and Frances always went out of her way to make her welcome, particularly as Agatha had never married or had a family of her own.

She ushered them into the drawing room and the children arrived curtailing any further discussion of Frederick’s absence.

Seemingly glad to see him not there, they besieged both guests with delighted squeals and hugs, taking full advantage of not needing to mute their reactions.

Miss Woodgrove was quite a part of the family too.

Something else Frederick disapproved of.

He saw her as a servant instead of the much-loved family member that the rest of them did.

“Freddie!” Alastair hooked his arm around Freddie’s neck, and pulled him in for a big, backslapping hug. Frances could see the sheer joy that shone on her son’s face at the attention. “How the hell are you, old thing? Lord, how you’ve grown!”

Freddie’s cheeks reddened with pleasure.

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Topping,” Alastair nodded. “Meet my friend Carlisle.”

Mr Carlisle shook his hand with a broad smile.

The door opened and Frederick entered accompanied by Mr Rossetti and Mr Whistler. The good-natured noise subsided into polite smiles.

“Leyland,” Alastair stepped forward. “Good to see you. I don’t think you’ve met my dear friend Justin Carlisle?”

Frederick shook Alastair’s hand and nodded at Mr Carlisle. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gestured to the men by his side. “Mr Gabriel Dante Rossetti, and Mr James McNeill Whistler.”

“Did you have an enjoyable walk, darling?” Frances asked.

Frederick ignored her question but gave her a pointed look. “I presume the children are on their way to the nursery?”

Frances held her composure and avoided the dejected looks on their faces. “Of course, they were just greeting our guests.”

The last of the fun-filled atmosphere of moments ago quickly withered.

“Children?” she gathered them to her with as bright a smile as she could muster. Elinor looked mulish and cast her father a stern stare.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered gently. “You’ll see our guests again soon.”

“When?” Elinor demanded.

“We will see them on the picnic,” Fannie squeezed her sister’s hand and ushered her along.

Elinor brightened, as did the others, but before they could demand more information, her husband interrupted, his tone quiet and terrifyingly mild.

“What picnic is this?” His ears as sharp as ever.

Frances held on to her hostess smile with everything she had. “If you recall, my dear, I said that I would take a walk with the ladies whilst you entertain the gentlemen? I thought that as it’s such an unusually lovely day, a picnic would be just the thing.”

“We arrived just in time and determined not to miss out on the fun,” Alastair offered in jovial tones that failed to move her husband.

Frances glanced at Aunt Agatha, who was watching Frederick through narrowed eyes.

He sniffed. “There is no need to involve the children. I’m sure our guests don’t want to be bothered by them.

” He spoke as if they were not standing before him and listening to every careless word.

Frances wanted to slap him. They were almost adults, not children to be banished to a nursery they grew out of many years ago.

As the uncomfortable silence lengthened, she groped for something to say that would not inflame him.

Something that might persuade him it was a good idea for them to accompany the party.

In the end, it was Mr Whistler who jumped in and saved them from impending disaster.

“Seriously? An English picnic! How marvellous! Could you include another in your party?” Mr Whistler came over to Frances eagerly, a boyish grin on his face.

“I have a fondness for the outdoors, and I love to sketch on picnics. Anyone else enjoy drawing outside?” he asked, casting his gaze across the gathered children.

The children stared at him, in awe.

“I do,” ventured Fannie nervously. “I love to draw.”

“Then we can picnic and sketch. The perfect way to spend a sunny day. Will you join us, Leyland? Rossetti?” He grinned at Frederick and patted him on the chest, causing Frances’ breath to catch in her throat.

“I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if the children join us.

I can test my skills at teaching,” he declared. “Anyone else mind?”

Mr Rossetti laughed. “I think I should enjoy it enormously. Leyland? With your permission? We can leave your business types to your ponderings unless, of course, you all want to join in the fun?”

To Frances’ eyes, Frederick looked coldly furious as he exhaled, but she suspected the guests didn’t catch it.

He offered a gracious incline of his head. “Of course. I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time, but I hope you won’t be disappointed if I don’t join you.”

The murmured assurances seemed to do the trick, and Frederick promptly left.

“Children, I look forward to your company!” Mr Whistler sank into a theatrical bow, making the girls giggle and Freddie grin. As she ushered them away, Mr Whistler gave Frances a frankly conspiratorial grin which surprised and alarmed her in equal measure.