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“Perhaps it would have been better to just be friends.”

“We still can, can’t we?” Lucie asked, hopefully.

“Of course,” Frances said quickly. “I care deeply for you. More than I should have allowed myself to, but we can’t be more than that.”

The words settled between them until Frances reached for the throw again. “We better get dressed.”

Lucie watched her wrap it around the body that was so willingly given to her only hours ago. Frances had taken her time last night, making her wait for it. Now she couldn’t get away fast enough. Reaching the door, she slipped into the dressing gown and glanced at the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I’ll leave you to...” She trailed off, making her way out of the room, leaving Lucie to wonder what the end of the sentence might have been.

After helping her mum with her morning routine, Frances returned to her bedroom to dress and was relieved to find Lucie had gone. The clothes were cleared from the floor, her red dress folded neatly on the bed.

Last night had meant more than she cared to admit, and as much as she would love to do it again, to do it every night, stopping it now was the right thing before she let herself fall too far. Lucie deserved so much more than she could offer her in the foreseeable future.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. The three of them sat at the dining table, making small talk about the weather and last night’s performance. Frances picked at her toast, noticing her mum doing the same. She seemed subdued. Even Lucie was quiet, no doubt turning over everything that happened between them — just as she was.

Once they’d finished, she took Lucie up on her offer to wash up so she could pack. As she left the room, she could hear Lucie promising to play a game of snap with her mum before they left. She’d never been one for games herself. As an only child, she’d had no one to play with, and by the time she went to boarding school, all the other girls were so proficient in them that the odds were always stacked against her.

Having packed their belongings into the car, Frances headed back inside to find Lucie coming into the hallway.

“She beat me again,” Lucie said, rolling her eyes.

“Did she, though?” Frances asked, closing the front door.

Lucie grinned. “Well... with a little help. She does like to win.”

Frances nodded and began rummaging in a drawer in the hall table. “She does, and it lifts her spirits.” Her fingers found what she was looking for, and she handed it to Lucie. “Here. A key for the house.”

“Are you sure? I mean, after...”

“Yes.” Frances held her gaze. “It will reassure me, knowing you’re safe here.” She paused. “Sorry. That sounded... controlling?”

Lucie smiled as she took the key. Their fingers brushed, making Frances’s stomach flutter.

“No. It’s sweet. It shows me you care.”

“I do, Lucie. I really do,” Frances said firmly. “It’s just...”

Lucie nodded, stepping back. “Bad timing. I know, and I do understand... even if I don’t like it.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to be there when you tell your mum that I won’t be visiting anymore?”

“No, it’s fine,” Frances said quickly, knowing it was her job to do. “I told her earlier you weren’t coming back with us. I’ll wait until I get home to mention that your absence will be more permanent.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Frances reached for her coat. There was no delaying their departure, so it was best to get it over with. “Mum, it’s time to go,” she called.

Her mum appeared a moment later, arms folded. “I’m not going.”

“We need to go home to Winterbourne.”

“I want to stay here,” she insisted, her chin lifting stubbornly.

“You can’t stay here,” Frances said, more firmly now as she lifted her mum’s coat from the peg.

“This is my home.”

“You’re not well. You need looking after,” Frances replied, hoping reason might settle it.