Chapter 6

Every morning for the next ten days, Tillie and her mother and sister gathered to make plans for the Twelvetide ball. The list of things to do was endless. Every afternoon, Tillie’s mother insisted they rest for a few hours to clear their brains. Tillie took that time to walk in the garden, and somehow, Frank always found her. Always.

“Do you think Uncle John and Father will be able to convince Broughton and Neville that improvements must be made to the conditions in their mines?” That was the constant question on everyone’s mind, and everyone in the household spent a good deal of time contemplating just that.

Although the ball itself was now just three days away, some of the guests would begin arriving tomorrow. The Earl of Broughton and the Marquess of Derwin were two of those who’d been invited to come early. By mid-week, Baron Tomkins and the Earl of Neville would arrive. Frank had indicated that Tillie’ father could use that time to explain why he planned to vote in favor of the bill before the House. Perhaps he might even be able to convince them that such improvements would be best for not only the miners, but the owners as well. But Tillie didn’t hold out much hope.

Frank placed his arm around Tillie’s shoulders and brought her close to him. “It’s our best hope. Perhaps if we discover the reason they are so against the bill, we’ll know what to do to help them change their minds.”

“I hope you’re right,” Tillie said, leaning against him. She placed her head on his shoulder. There wasn’t a place she’d rather be than close to him.

“Have you received replies from Broughton or Derwin?”

“Yes. Lord Broughton should arrive tomorrow and Lord Derwin the day after.”

“Very good.”

“I’m a little frightened, Frank.”

“That’s only normal, Tillie. But don’t be. Between your father, brother, and Lord Beckett, they’ll take care of everything.”

“And you,” she said, lifting her chin until their gazes locked.

“Yes. And me.”

She saw him angling for a kiss and beamed. She could allow his kisses all day, and well into the night. She loved the emotions that raced through her when he kissed her. She loved how she felt when she was in his arms. She loved how complete she felt when his body pressed against her.

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Tillie,” Frank whispered as he lifted his mouth from hers.

Tillie’s heart swelled with emotion. “I believe it’s possible that I’m falling in love with you, too,” was her breathless reply.

“Only possible?” He kissed her again, then tucked her cheek into the crook of his neck. “We haven’t a great deal of time to decide for sure,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and blanketing her in his embrace. “I want you to be certain.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Tillie answered as she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. “And it’s not just something I know for certain, darling Frank. It’s something that has settled quite stubbornly in my heart.”

. . .

The Earl of Broughton arrived the next day, along with his wife, two daughters, a mountain of luggage, and numerous personal servants.

Tillie stepped in immediately to take control of the entourage. Having never met Lady Broughton or her daughters before, then watching the caravan of trunks being carried up the stairs, Tillie feared her first impression of Lady Broughton might be somewhat negative. To her surprise however, the opposite was true.

Lady Broughton was a pleasant woman who chattered amiably as she followed Tillie up the stairs. The cheerful matron stepped through the opening Tillie indicated and exclaimed her delight at the lovely rooms.

Tillie and her mother had chosen the burgundy and cream suite for Lady Broughton. When Tillie saw the number of trunks the servants hauled up the stairs, she was glad they’d chosen this suite. It was the largest in the manor house.

While Lady Broughton took a moment to freshen up, Tillie showed Lady Corrine and Lady Felicity to their rooms.

“Oh,” Lady Corrine exclaimed when she entered the sunny yellow and white suite of rooms Tillie had chosen for Lord Broughton’s daughters. “What perfectly charming rooms.”

“I’m so glad you like them,” Tillie answered.

“You have a lovely home, Miss Rowley.”

“Thank you. But please, call me Tillie. Everyone does.”

“And she’s Corrie and I’m just plain Felicity,” the younger daughter said with humor. “No one’s thought of an adequate shorter version of my name.”

“Then Corrie and Felicity it is,” Tillie answered with a broad smile.

Tillie showed Felicity to the adjoining room, and when the three Broughton ladies were ready, Tillie escorted them down to meet the rest of her family who were gathered in the large receiving room.

All conversation ceased when they entered the room.

Tillie’s mother and father, her grandmother and grandfather, Uncle John, Tillie’s sister Alice and her husband, Earl of Halstead, were gathered with George and Frank, along with Lord Broughton.

Tillie studied the earl for a quick moment. This was indeed a day for surprises. Just like his wife, he wasn’t at all what Tillie had expected. He didn’t appear threatening, as someone who had written the sinister notes to her father surely would. Instead, he was a congenial middle-aged gentleman with pleasing features and merry eyes.

Tillie escorted the ladies around the room to introduce them before showing Lady Broughton and her daughters to seats close to where her mother and grandmother sat. There was an instant connection between the ladies.

While Tillie poured tea, the ladies began a conversation that included their regrets that they’d had little opportunity to meet informally over the years.

Tillie cast a glance in Frank’s direction, and found him watching her. Her cheeks warmed, and she answered his questioning gaze with a look she hoped told him she couldn’t wait to meet with him. She wanted to hear his assessment of Lord Broughton.

Tillie turned away from where Frank stood, and her eyes rested on her brother.

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. George was focused on the very pretty Lady Corrine with intense interest.

The pink flush to the young lady’s cheeks said she wasn’t averse to his attentions.

Tillie smiled. This promised to be a very interesting Christmastide indeed.

Very.

. . .

The following day, the Marquess and Marchioness of Derwin arrived. Frank studied both Lord Broughton and Lord Derwin. Instead of having a more concrete evaluation of which one of the guests may have been behind the threatening messages, Frank was more confused than ever. Neither of them seemed the type to make such threats.

Where Broughton was a family man who obviously adored his wife and children, Derwin was a jolly grandfather who still looked with puppy dog eyes whenever he focused on his wife.

Frank was anxious to speak with Tillie. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a chance to meet her until after dinner when the older guests had retired for the evening, and the rest were absorbed in a game of cards.

Frank made his way to the summerhouse to find Tillie already there. She rose when he entered.

Frank walked to her and gathered her in his arms. “Have you been waiting long?

“Not long at all.”

Frank removed one glove and touched her cheeks. “You’re cold,” he said. He opened his coat and wrapped it around her. His heart raced in his chest when she brought her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek to his chest.

Frank kept his Inverness wrapped around her and backed up until they could sit on the bench. He kept her nestled close to him. “So what do you think?” he asked when they were settled.

“I can’t believe either Broughton or Derwin could have written the letters. They seem too… nice.”

“That’s what I thought. But appearances can be deceiving.”

Tillie lifted her head until their eyes locked. “Are you and Father planning to speak to them?”

“Yes. Your father thinks we should wait until they’re more comfortable being here. Although I doubt we can get either of them to admit that they were the ones to write the letters.”

Frank kept his gaze locked with Tillie’s, then slowly lowered his head. He relished the small sigh that escaped when his lips touched hers. “We have to be more careful, sweetheart. Someone could see us and we’d be forced to marry,” he teased.

Tillie pulled slightly away, her crestfallen look taking him by surprise.

“Would that be so terrible?” she asked.

“No,” he answered, and realized he meant it with his whole heart. He kissed her again. “But if we marry, I want it to be because you want to marry me. Not because you’re forced to marry me.”

“Oh goodness, Frank,” she chided. “Where’s your sense of drama?” She swatted his arm and winked in a way that seemed as much devilish as it did coquettish. He couldn’t help but laugh.

And kiss her once more.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, Tillie’s breathing stuttered with all the same passion he felt within his own chest.

She cleared her throat, reached her hand to check her hair, and changed the subject.

“How are you going to discover which one of them is guilty? You can’t simply ask them, you know,” she said when her breathing calmed.

“Can’t I?”

Tillie lifted her head and stared at him, and Frank kissed her again.

And again.

She wasn’t the only one who was adept at changing the subject.