The Bet

Chapter 9: The Smith Estate, Nottingham

The Smiths were a large family. Except for Frances mother every relative had more than five children and some out did themselves by producing in double digits.

The Smiths' family estate was one of Frances favourite places. She knew every nooks and crannies. As long as Frances could remember, they gathered there each year. It has become a family tradition.

That evening, they arrived at the Smiths' Estate. Mr and Mrs. Smith was waiting in the drive to welcome them all.

Marcus helped Frances down and offered his hand as they climbed the stairs to meet the rest. A gaggle of young children came running, shouting 'Aunt Franny!.'

Marcus felt ambushed as he was pushed aside. Marcus lost his footing and fell down.

Antony was unable to control himself and laughed out loud. He bent down and helped Marcus up, murmuring 'Serves you right, what a delightful week this is going to be.'

'Yes, I am sure I will enjoy every bit of it,' replied Marcus sarcastically.

Mrs.Smith repeatedly apologised, Marcus reassured he wasn't even a bit angry.

Marcus was assigned a separate room, while Antony was to share a room with one of the Smiths cousins.

Guests were still arriving, so the dinner was informal and served in a small ballroom. Marcus helped himself bread, toast, cheese and lemon tart from the side table and sat down with Antony to eat. He kept looking around for Frances, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Marcus spotted Miss. Anne and waved as she made her way to them.

'Where is Miss.Hill?' he asked her.

'I am Miss.Hill' she replied.

'The other Miss.Hill,' he said, rolling his eyes.

'Frances! She is taking her dinner at the nursery with the kids,' she said as though she was not one.

Marcus thought Anne must be thirteen or fourteen and just out of nursery herself. Antony couldn't hide his glee.

Anne sat in the vacant chair and started talking. 'Mama never allowed Frances to eat food in the nursery. She hates it, and thinks it's hard to hide her problem, I mean Frances but she likes to play. Everyone likes her. Cook makes the best chocolate biscuits and she is her favourite too. I like butter biscuits.'

Marcus couldn't follow a thing, she seems to be talking about ten different things at the same time. Antony looked like he might explode with laughter at Marcus' predicament.

Marcus went to bed that night, his head aching. He decided if he had to endure Anne's speech one more time he was going to pack his things and head right back to London, damn Frances for all he cared.

The following morning Marcus woke up and got ready glumly. If he didn't see Frances, he bloody well was going to march to the nursery and drag her out himself he decided.

When he opened his door, two boys, no more than eight, were standing waiting for him.

'Are you Lord Marcus?' one of them asked.

'Yes!' replied Marcus apprehensively.

'He might be lying, how do we know it's him?' asked the other.

'I am Marcus and what do you need?' asked Marcus.

Antony joined them.

'Do you know Lord Marcus?' the boys asked Antony.

'Yes this is Lord Marcus,' Antony replied pointing to Marcus.

The boys believed Antony more quickly and said to Marcus. 'Aunt Franny wants to meet you after breakfast in the garden.' Their message conveyed, they scrambled away.