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There were smudges under her eyes, her hair was a ratty mess, her gown was wrinkled and filthy, and he felt something powerful move deep within him.
“You will eat your breakfast,” he said in a stiff voice, “then you will go to bed. It’s nearly nine o‘clock in the morning.”
“I am not hungry, just so tired.”
He shortened his step to match hers. She weaved a bit as they walked toward the house, and he gently clasped her arm. He said abruptly, “I apologize for cutting up at you. I shall certainly be delighted for your sisters to visit you here. I shall pay for new gowns and the like for them.” There, he’d said it. He waited hopefully to see that brilliant smile of hers again, but to his chagrin, she stiffened. “I think not, my lord,” she said in a very even voice. “I intend to pay for their new gowns myself. Of course, I do thank you for allowing the two little waifs to stay in your house.”
“You have no money, Frances, at least not enough to provide more than one outfit for each of them.”
She waved her hand at him. “My ring is valuable,” she said. “I intend to sell it. I shall go to York this afternoon.”
It was a long time since dawn, but Hawk saw red.
“You will do no such thing!”
“Isn’t the ring mine?”
“It is a family heirloom, it was worth far beyond the money it would bring. I forbid you to sell it, Frances!”
She came to a stop, pulled away from him, and said in a very clipped voice, “You may go to the devil, my lord. I assume the devil is in London. It appears a fine day for traveling. Why don’t you take yourself off?”
“The only reason I don’t shake you until your teeth rattle is that you are too weary. Don’t push me, Frances.”
“Ah, your sense of fair play, my lord? Don’t strike your opponent until he or she is able to fight back?”
“ ‘Hawk,’ damn you! Fair play has nothing to do with anything. You will not sell the ring and that’s an end to it.”
She gave him a long look and tightly pursed her lips.
“Frances,” he began, knowing her well enough now to recognize the signs of heels digging in.
She ignored him, walking more quickly. She came to an abrupt halt when two dusty carriages bowled up the drive to come to a halt in front of the house.
“Who the hell—” Hawk said.
Frances watched a nattily dressed gentleman climb out of the lead carriage, turn, and offer his hand to a lady.
“My God,” Hawk said, “it is Edmund, Lord Chalmers, and my sister, Beatrice!”
He strode forward, his hand outstretched. “Good Lord, man, ‘tis still an early hour. However did you manage to get Bea—”
He didn’t finish, for his sister said in a very imperious voice, “Hello, Phillip. Everything looks the same, I see. Edmund and I have
come to visit you. Oh dear, my father is here? And who is that, brother?”
Hawk turned to see her finger pointing at Frances, who stood like a filthy servant girl some feet away.
He drew a deep breath and said, “Frances, come here, my dear. She is my wife,” he added.
“She sleeps in the stables? How very odd, to be sure, but given her looks, I am really not surprised. However—”
“She was caring for a sick horse,” Hawk said briefly, cutting off his sister.
“How very odd,” Beatrice repeated.
“You don’t look terribly fit yourself, old boy,” Edmund said. “The horse will survive?”
“He will. Frances has a talent for healing animals.” He turned to see Frances at his side.
