A/N:

The final installment of the chapter loves! Again so, so, SO, sorry for failing to update on time. Normal update time resumes today! Things are about to get interesting...

I LAUGHED. Of course, I hadn't the faintest clue whether it was convincing or not.

"That's insane," I replied.

"Why?" he inquired. "It is already quite plain that Matthew has taken liking to quite an ambitious creature. You'd be blind to have not seen it already." I managed a farce smile.

"The idea is simply inconceivable. Even if she was trying to kill me, on the whole basis of ambition, I bear no threat to she and Mr. Whitfield's relationship," I informed. Frances raised a brow.

"Don't you? You're his wife. You bear the most threat," he said.

"I think, you should know by now, the type of relationship a marriage it takes for a husband to have a long-term mistress. Indeed, I don't bear the slightest threat. There is no affection between Mr. Whitfield and I. If anything, I bear the smallest threat," I contradicted. Frances laughed, with the kind of mocking sarcasm that stings.

"Whatever gave you the indication that your relationship with your husband mattered? At least, with her intentions. Victoria wants your place, as his wife. And to do that, well, she will kill," Frances said. I shook my head.

"She would have no reason to that, still. No reason whatsoever," I replied.

"And why not?" Frances almost spat out.

"My husband is dissolving our marriage. And I have no doubt that the proceedings will be over in short of a month," I said. The puzzled look of bewilderment on Frances' face was utterly priceless.

"So you see, Victoria would have no motive to kill me. Whatever you say, it has to be untrue," I continued.

"Clearly I'm uninformed on her latest motive. But I know, that she plans to murder you Rose. I kid you not," Frances assured. I peered at him with faux suspicion.

"And, pray, exactly how do you know what Victoria's plans are Mr. DuBois?" I asked. He didn't even blink.

"She payed and informed me on her plans to do so," he said. Was I hearing this right? He was admitting that he knew about the plans to kill me? Why would he do a thing like that?

"When? Why?" I almost shouted.

"A little over a fortnight ago. She said she needed you 'out of the way' as people often put it. It was to be done, a week I believe, before the deliverance of her child," he said. All the information he provided was consistent with what I heard in the dark of that library. I tentatively swallowed.

"I will already be out of the way in a very, very short time. It will be quite a bit before the delivery of her child as well. There is no reason, you see, to kill me now," I countered. Frances shrugged.

"If anything had changed, pertaining to to killing you that is, I would have received a letter of notice. It is assumed plans will go as usual," he said.

"But they can't, I cried impatiently, I will already be gone." Frances merely shrugged. "And anyway, why are you telling me this?" I retorted. Frances looked taken aback.

"Whatever do you mean?" he innocently inquired.

"I mean, that if you are quite as informed on these plans as you claim, and what you say is true, you accepted her offer. You accepted the offer and pay to murder me and you are now telling me over two weeks later. Why should I trust you?" I questioned. Frances' face reddened. I observed him fiddle with his tie.

"Because, she loves you, he murmured, and if anything happened to you...it would break Elizabeth. I don't want to see her broken."

"Ah, how noble of you. It isn't like taking a life is deplorable enough by itself," I remarked. I studied Frances. He looked irritated.

"I'll help. Avoid you being killed and whatnot, he paused, but could you forgive Elizabeth? Whatever went on between the two of you, I know you aren't on good terms."

"Your wife made it very clear where her stance was with me. Unless something in the future changes, drastically, I see no reason to change it. I've tolerated the ill-heart of people for too long, showed too much goodwill. I am finished with that chapter of my life," I expressed, with a slight cold bite in my word. "Since you're on my side, would you be willing to do me a favor?" I asked. Of course, again, I wasn't really asking. And if Frances was as smart as I thought he was, he would know this as well.

I saw a vein bulge very slightly on that head of his, but his reply was well. "Do tell," he answered.

"You remember my Uncle Hector from Rivermouth?" I continued. Frances cringed.

"Yes. What does he have to with anything?"

"They're all here. Uncle Hector and William you know, the lot of my father's family. For the divorce, they wanted to come before it was done-" I started.

"What on earth does it have to do with them?" he interjected.

"Everything it seems. Don't interrupt me again. As I was saying, they've come to stay until it is all over. And when I was in the garden, I saw Victoria and him together. Making, making...well you know," I said. Frances' face was even more surprised than the visage he wore during my first revelation.

"Why this...this changes everything," he declared.

"Yes, yes I suppose it does. Which is why I need you to keep a close eye on him. And when you do decide to call at Whitfield, make it in a way that we can speak on your observations," I said.

"And your cousins?" Frances queried. I merely blinked.

"Cousins? What of them? My dear relatives kept me away from their children, you know. As if I was a plague, a disease, something contagious that you shouldn't catch. I hardly know any of the them," I disclosed.

"One cannot really blame them," Frances responded. The cruel words burned. Just then a sharp scream emitted from the air. We both froze, startled. Then Frances left my side hurriedly, without even answering my question. Annoyed, I followed suit. Inside the ballroom was a sobbing Mrs. Thompson, in a state of utter... Utter...

I can't even find the word to describe it. She was a mess. And Mr. Thompson was screaming at her at the top of his lungs, without the decency to even talk with his wife in private.

"A woman? A woman? Of all the people you had to disgrace me with, by enjoying the company of someone else, you choose one of your own sex?" he yelled with fury. And it went on from there. Mrs. Thompson continued to cry, and everyone else, was well, shocked. Awkward and not knowing what to do. People of the upper class never behaved like this, at least, not in the public eye. I thought it was rich. Mr. Thompson enjoyed chasing the skirts of not only women, but girls, and saw it fit to humiliate his wife for doing the same.

Well.

There was not any chance I was staying to watch this. I moved toward the door, the doorman avidly trying to eavesdrop on the scandal unfolding. Although, it was not very difficult.

"My coat?" I asked sharply. Reddening, he handed me my fur. After wrapping myself thoroughly, I ventured out the door. And not, for a moment, did I glance back.