“What on earth are you talking about?” Horatio demanded.
“I believe you probably know that I am not my cousin's greatest ally. She has not been the easiest person to live with, and I believe has long been jealous of me...”
Horatio snorted, seeing the distortion of the truth based on what Juliet had already told him. And the lies he had seen first-hand from Frances as to Juliet’sconditionwhen, in truth, she had attempted to leave Ravenscourt.
The only reason the Godwins still held residence at his house was to quell the scandal that might erupt if he confronted them on it—scandal he could not combat in his weakened state, with the bonus that perhaps he might get some insight on Juliet now that she had chosen to return to Wetherby.
“Please, hear me out, Your Grace. Perhaps it was arrogant of me to assume that Juliet was jealous of me. I can admit that. But she is not the woman you believe she is.”
Horatio had turned away, but now he whirled to face Frances, angered by her words. But the sudden movement made his head spin. As the room whirled around him, Horatio stumbled. Instinctively, he reached out for support. Frances took his hand. Then she was beside him, her body pressed to his side to hold him upright.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I have you,”
Her voice was husky, hoarse with desire. For a wild moment, Horatio thought it was Juliet that held him in her arms. The perfume was identical, different to the unsubtle aroma that Frances usually preferred. Her voice was similar, carrying the same accent as Juliet’s. His head still swimming, Horatio turned to the woman who held him.
“Juliet?” he whispered.
She smiled, nodded, and then lifted her lips to Horatio's. He closed his eyes instinctively at the kiss and his balance desertedhim. He felt the bed beneath him and the soft, feminine body of…Francesatop him, her lips still in contact with his.
The illusion was shattered.
In a moment of blinding clarity, Horatio recognized Frances again and what was happening. He gripped her arms and lifted, pushing her away from him. As he opened his eyes, he saw her staring down at him with a look of vulpine need. Her lips curled into a smile that screamed of triumph.
“Frances!' Lady Margaret screamed from the doorway, “Your Grace, unhand my daughter this instant!”
Horatio and Frances both looked to see Lady Margaret standing in the doorway, horrified. A man stood next to her in the garb of a priest. He was crossing himself, mouth agape in shocked astonishment. Frances scrambled to her feet, smoothing her dress, and looking at the floor as though chastened. Her cheeks were scarlet.
“Mother, it is not how it looked!” she cried. “The Duke fainted and I caught him.”
“And did this aid which you rendered also require a kiss?” Lady Margaret demanded.
“I... it just happened... it was not his fault... it was mutual...” Frances stammered.
“Appalling behavior. You, sir, should be ashamed,” the priest shook his head.
Horatio sat up, frowning. There was something about the man's voice and face that was familiar, though he could not quite place it.
“Thank goodness you were here to witness this man's vile behaviour. It is not the first time as I'm sure you are aware, Reverend Ainsworth,” Lady Margaret said.
Then, Horatio knew precisely who the man was.Matthew Ainsworth. Brother to Jane, whom Horatio had once loved.
“I did not know you had taken holy orders, Matthew,” Horatio snarled.
“Now is not the time to discuss such matters,” Matthew exclaimed. “I see I arrived just in time. The reputation that the Templeton name has possessed for depravity is clearly well-earned. You have need of a man of God here.”
Horatio's eyes narrowed and he looked from Lady Margaret to Matthew Ainsworth. Finally, he looked to Frances. She looked ashamed and humble, a very different look to that which he had become accustomed to seeing from her.
“And what use do you believe I have for you, Matthew?” Horatio asked, coldly.
“I have the authority, in the name of God and the Church of England, to grant a marriage license and carry out the ceremony.”
“Ah!” said Horatio, grinning wolfishly. “And you would marry myself and Frances Godwin, would you?”
“I wouldprefernot to have to marry you to anyone, Your Grace. My sister narrowly escaped being tarnished by your name, I would not have this young lady suffer a similar fate!” Matthew said hotly. “Alas, my duty is clear. And your only course of action should be clear too. If you are, indeed, a gentleman.”
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Frances said, tearfully, “I was only trying to help. Now I have made everything worse!”
There were tears in her eyes which she tried to hide with her hands. There was no disguising her sobs though.
