“Of course I will. That is where you live.”

  “I rarely attend the entertainments, and never balls, so it is unlikely we will cross paths.”

  Frances frowned. “You will call on me there.”

  Seth next drew in a deep breath and straightened his spine before he turned to face her. “No, Franny, I will not.”

  She did not understand. “I was looking forward to dancing with you.”

  “If we encounter the other in public, I will not acknowledge you.”

  A slap would have stung less. “You are embarrassed of our acquaintance.” She had not thought him so cruel. He claimed to love her, but that was not possible if he was going to deny her.

  “That is not it. If circumstances were different…”

  Frances’ stomach tightened. “I do not understand. What has changed?”

  “Nothing has changed Frances. But I have goals and dreams and have a certain reputation that does not allow me to dance with debutantes at balls.”

  It was not possible that Seth had a poor reputation. “I am not a debutante, nor a young miss,” she reminded him.

  “While I have friendship and respect among the gentlemen, the same is not shared by the women and your association with me would only harm you.”

  “You are my dearest friend,” she reminded him and Seth had claimed her to be his. He also claimed to love her so none of what he was saying made any sense. She had known him these past ten years and he was a kind and thoughtful gentleman.

  “We must never speak again. I will not have you harmed by my reputation.”

  “Does this mean that you still have no intention of marrying or is it just me that you reject?” At fifteen, he said that he would never wed, but she thought those were words of a boy that would change as he matured, especially after he claimed to love her.

  “That decision has never been altered.”

  Her heart and hope for a future shattered. Why tell her that he loved her, and kiss her in such a delicious manner if he never had any intention of a future?

  “Find someone who will love you and be brave enough to marry you, Franny. You will do well because you have beauty and you are kind.”

  He’d never told her that she was beautiful before.

  “Gentlemen will notice and I am certain you will find your heart’s desire.”

  Except Seth was her heart’s desire, but she’d not humiliate herself by begging him to call on her. He clearly did not care for her as much as he had claimed.

  “It does not matter what any gentlemen may think, Seth. I have no dowry,” she reminded him.

  “The only gentlemen who will be concerned with such are those in need of an heiress. Most will likely overlook your lack of funds.”

  “This is our end?” It couldn’t be. Not after everything that they'd shared.

  “I must return to London and you must return to your uncle. It is best that we part now without further association.”

  Frances heard his words, but her mind could not accept what he was saying. They had grown close these past ten years. He was her dearest friend, and now he would treat her as nothing more than a stranger.

  It was not possible that he loved her. Even if he thought he did, it was a lie, or he would not reject her like this—terminate a relationship when it was no longer convenient.

  “I am wondering if I ever knew you at all.”

  He winced, which gave her a small bit of pleasure. He was hurting her and she wanted to hurt him.

  In an instant, words said to her in the past came to her mind. He wasn’t rejecting her, though he was, but it was more. “You are a coward.”

  Seth flinched but did not argue.

  “You once told me that you could never love anyone because the pain of losing Amelia had been nearly more than you could endure and you would never allow it to happen again.” Amelia had been his twin sister who he lost after she contracted measles at the age of fifteen.

  “It is the truth,” he answered.

  “Yet, you have claimed that you love me.”

  “I do.”

  “Is this not painful as well?” she demanded.

  “More than I anticipated,” he offered quietly.

  “Then why?” Frances cried.

  “Because, when I walk out that door, you will still be alive. My happy, beautiful and alive dearest friend. And I will always be able to remember and think of you as alive.”

  “So you will forsake any kind of love and you will go off to make your fortune, live a cold miserable life, keeping everyone at a distance, even to the detriment of your own happiness because you are afraid of loss.”

  “Financial security is all that I need or want.”

  “Those were the words of a boy.”

  “I was five and ten.”

  “Still not a man.”

  “That does not mean they were not true and they remain the same.”

  All Frances could do was stare at him, unable to comprehend how he could be so cold and treat her so callously.

  “It is better this way, Franny,” he finally said.

  “Just go.” Frances pointed to the door. “Leave. Make your fortune and I hope it brings you all the happiness in the world.”

  He simply nodded and then left.

  Once the door clicked shut, Frances collapsed on the settee and sobbed, certain that her heart would never recover.

  The sound of applause jerked Frances from her memories and she realized she’d not paid any attention to the actors on the stage. Yes, she had watched them, but had not listened to a single line and would not be able to tell anyone what the play had been about if they asked.

  “Now, aren’t you pleased that we came to the theatre?” Bethany asked.

  “Yes. It was a lovely performance,” Frances absently responded. “We should hurry. There will be a crowd awaiting their carriages and I do not wish to be detained any longer than necessary.” Frances marched past her friends and into the corridor and assumed they would follow.

  “Is something bothering you, Frances?” Bethany asked with concern as she hurried after Frances.

  She certainly could not tell them the truth—that she needed to avoid encountering Lord Seth Claxton. “I fear my mind was on the new employment and I hope that I do not disappoint.”

  When they stepped out on the walk, it was already beginning to become crowded with those waiting for a carriage or hoping to hail a hackney. She nervously waited for Shrewsbury’s carriage while she glanced around, afraid that she might not be able to slip away without notice and finally blew out a sigh when the carriage arrived. Without delay, she entered the conveyance as soon as the door opened and took her seat then sighed with relief. It wasn’t until the carriage pulled away that she glanced out the window one last time and right into the eyes of Seth who had stepped from the crowd.

  Thank goodness she had gotten away from him. Now, if those awful memories would go away, all would be well.

  Chapter Three

  Seth had hurried his sister through the theatre in hopes of catching up to Frances but missed the opportunity to speak with her.

  Perhaps it was for the best, given how she’d given him the cut direct, after she had looked at him with such disdain—her eyes hard and cold, mouth pursed—a clear indication that she had not grown immune to his presence, though that did not mean she harbored any soft emotions for him either.

  She hated him and it was his own fault.

  However, Seth would not let that deter him. Franny had once been his dearest friend, and she still held his heart, even though he was not deserving of hers. He knew the moment that he looked into her eyes, even though the width of the theatre separated them, that she was what had been missing from his life, and likely the cause of his melancholy state. Had he not been such a coward and fool, so afraid of loving deeply and losing, Franny may have been sitting with him this evening and not his sister.

  Even if he couldn’t win her heart back, was there even a chance that they could once again share a friendship?

  Those questions plagued him through the night and Seth knew that he must speak with Frances. He needed to make things right…somehow, if it was even possible to do so. That was the very reason that as soon as he had finished breaking his fast, and despite the earlier hour for paying calls, Seth made his way to her family’s London home only to learn that the family had returned to the country that very morning.

  Blast!

  She would not be back until spring, which was far too long to wait to see her again.

  Unless… No, he would not chase after Frances all the way to Yorkshire. The Emerald Garter needed his attention.

  Except, as Seth made his way through Mayfair to call on his cousin, he spent the entire time rethinking his decision. He did not want to wait until spring to see her again. If five years had proven anything, it was that he missed his friend, but he hadn't realized just how badly until last evening.

  Except, Frances had been so much more than a dear friend, and he had spent these past years doing everything possible to numb that pain, which only further increased his unflattering reputation.

  His heart ached with longing and Seth was determined to somehow win her again.

  After he attended his obligation for tonight, he would make arrangements with Jonathan to oversee The Emerald Garter while he was gone and then Seth would be traveling north.

  After he collected the package from his cousin, Seth returned home and prepared for the conversation he was about to have with Blythe. He would tell her of his travel plans later, but first he needed to convince her to leave the house again tonight.

  “What plans do you have tonight?” he asked when he found her in the parlor.

  “I have not made any, as you are likely already aware.”

  “I am glad to hear it because I have made plans for both of us.” He placed the package on the settee beside her.

  She eyed it with suspicion. “What will we be doing this time?”

  “We are to attend a masquerade ball being held at the Argyll Room to benefit Westbrook House, the home for orphans and women who find themselves in unpleasant circumstances and need a safe place to live.”

  “A worthy cause and I am certain it will be enjoyable, but I have no costume.”

  “Ah, but you do” He pointed to the package. “Tessa has provided one.”

  Blythe pulled back in surprise. “You spoke to our cousin before me!”

  “I needed to make certain she could see you outfitted.” He grinned and hurriedly continued before Blythe could offer an argument. “It is a three-quarter mask. The most anyone will see of your face is your lips and chin.” Seth hoped this would give her comfort. “Nobody will know who you are and you can pretend to be anyone you wish.”

  She studied him for the longest time, before she blew out a sigh. “Very well. I will attend but only because I am happy to see you spending your evenings away from The Emerald Garter, even if it means that I must accompany you.”

  Frances tied the ribbons of her mask as the carriage came to a stop before the Argyll Room. At least it was large enough to conceal the darkness beneath her eyes from lack of sleep.

  Last night had been fitful. When she slept, she dreamed of Seth, and when awake, she recalled their ten years of friendship.

  As much as she wanted to hate him for what he had done, she could not.

  In fact, she was surprised that her heart still ached for what had once been. Or what she had thought they had shared, which was why she needed to remind herself that what she had once believed they shared had been a lie. Not only was Seth not worthy of her love, but she could never trust him.

  Thank goodness he rarely went into Society, for Frances feared that she’d spend all evenings away from the house looking over her shoulder for fear that she may encounter him again.

  Blast! Her hands had even begun to shake when she looked into his eyes from across the theatre.

  “I do love a masquerade,” Bethany announced from the opposite seat.

  Frances had not been informed that she would be attending the masquerade ball until she arrived at her new home yesterday afternoon. Bethany had provided her with a mask, which would have to do since Frances had no costume. However, she did wear her most daring gown—one that she had commissioned but had not been bold enough to wear to a Societal ball regardless of her status of wallflower spinster.

  Even now she wondered if it had been a mistake and if she was too exposed.

  When the footman opened the door, Bethany’s brother, Viscount Shrewsbury, stepped from the conveyance and Frances, suddenly overcome with nerves, leaned toward her friend.

  “Are you certain my dress is not too risqué?” she whispered to Bethany.

  “No! You are simply not used to wearing something that leaves your shoulders practically bare and more of your bosom exposed.”

  Frances placed a gloved hand against the swell of her breasts above the jewel-toned bodice.

  “It is too much, is it not?”

  Bethany laughed. “No, it is not. I have seen similar cuts at several balls.”

  “Not on misses,” Frances reminded her.

  “Yes, on misses,” Bethany argued. “Just not those fresh from the schoolroom, which you are not.”

  Frances had not been fresh from the schoolroom for several years. “I have wanted to wear this gown…” Then she grinned as she straightened her spine, decision made. She may be a wallflower but she was no shrinking violet. “And so I shall, and enjoy myself for the simple reason that nobody will ever know who I really am.”

  Ah, anonymity did bring a new perspective. She would enjoy herself tonight and further, she would put Lord Seth Claxton from her mind. He was the past and she was embarking on her future.

  “Masks are removed at midnight,” Bethany reminded her.

  “Is that a requirement?” Frances asked with some worry.

  Bethany cocked her head. “I am not certain.” She shrugged. “Besides, you may not even care by then.”

  She most definitely would care, Frances was certain, and would find a reason to be gone before the clock struck midnight.

  Bethany reached out to her brother and stepped from the carriage and onto the walk. Frances followed by placing her hand into Shrewsbury’s so that he could assist her. And even though he was masked, she knew his eyes were on her bosom when she bent forward. Heat scorched her cheeks, but she would not turn back now. Bethany was correct. She’d seen several similarly cut bodices in the past and it was time that she stopped hiding and dressing with the same modesty of a miss enjoying her first Season.

  The three of them stepped through the entrance, decorated with Corinthian pillars and gilt lamps, before they were directed to the grand salon where the ball was being held. In the expanse between the doors and the opposite end of the saloon where the orchestra played, stood dozens of people in various costumes dancing, laughing and talking.

  This ball was far more festive than any that she had attended in Society previously and she wondered if it was because identities were hidden. It was the only conclusion that Frances could reach as she had never attended a masquerade ball before.

  Bethany slipped her hand around her arm and pulled her to the side of the room where they passed tiers of red-covered benches before entering the billiard room, where Frances was quite surprised to find women playing as well as gentlemen. She barely had a moment to watch the game before Bethany pulled her into another where various games of chance were taking place.

  It was in a card room at a ball that Frances had met Bethany and Tessa, and it was often the first place she visited during a ball to see who was playing and which games.

  There were few women within the room tonight and the gentlemen turned and noted their presence when they entered. However, it was not from them that Frances had the sensation of being watched and when she glanced about, she noted a troubadour from days of old watching her. It was quite unnerving, as well as thrilling. She could not see his eyes very well because of the mask but felt the weight of his stare, nonetheless. Also noted was his mouth with firm lips and a strong chin. If the ridiculous hat he was wearing didn’t hide his hair, perhaps she might have been able to recognize him, but anything that could easily provide an identification was hidden from her.

  As her pulse increased, for reasons that she could not explain, Frances quickly glanced away because she did not know him, or what his attention could mean because she was not used to having gentlemen even notice her.

  The card room was where Frances would normally remain but she would not play tonight. She needed to be able to look into a player’s eyes and observe facial expressions, which these masks did not allow. Being unable to study an opponent resulted in a losing hand and loss of precious funds.

  “You will not be a wallflower tonight but enjoy yourself.” Bethany pulled Frances back into the salon where the guests were dancing.

  Though she could not see faces, others—gentlemen—had looked at her and Bethany and by the quirk of their lips, she assumed they liked what they saw.

  Yes, being in a mask was empowering and maybe she might finally enjoy a ball.

  “Ah, there are Tessa and His Grace.” Bethany pointed to the peasant girl and tailor.

  “How do you know it is them?” Even though the color of hair matched the couple, that did not mean they were recognizable.

  “Tessa showed me their costumes the other day.”

  “Who is the woman with her?”

  Bethany tilted her chin and studied the woman in the blue, medieval gown with her dark hair braided away from her face and flowing down her back. “I have no idea, which is the fun of a masquerade.”

  They were about to go to Tessa, her husband and the mystery woman but were stopped when the troubadour from the card room appeared before her. When she looked into his blue eyes, Frances’ breath hitched and she had to force herself to breathe.

  The eyes, they were the same color as Seth’s, and maybe the lips and chin were familiar…Was is possible?

  Frances blinked. It was not Seth because he promised that if he ever saw her in London that he would not acknowledge her and she was not so well disguised that Seth would not recognize her.