Page 20 of Madcap with a Marquess
Franny snatched up the racket and ball and twirled back to the housekeeper. “Oh, how fun! I have never attended a Midsummer’s Eve festival.” She’d heard talk of the festival, but she’d never managed to attend. Once she’d been old enough to enjoy it…she couldn’t visit the tenant village any longer.
Mrs. Higgens’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, it is quite the merry time.”
Planning a festival sounded much more fun thanhousehold accounts. Perhaps there would be some parts of this Lady Rutledge business she would find enjoyment in.
“Is that something the Rutledge family typically assists with?”
“Yes, the dowager planned what would be included in the feast, and then it was sent down the day of the festival.”
That seemed a promising sign. If the dowager was involved, it was surely something Lord Rutledge would approve of.
Franny meandered over to the serving court. “Do they not attend the festival? Are there any other preparations needed?”
“They do not do more than provide the food for the feast.” Mrs. Higgens’s soft blonde brows drew together. “I don’t believe Lord Rutledge, nor his mother, have ever attended, nor his father, even when he was well. However, the festival is quite an involved event and there are many preparations that need to be made if Your Ladyship would like to participate. Perhaps a trip to the village is in order to get an idea of what assistance would be beneficial.”
Excitement bubbled up inside Franny. A trip to the village, to the tenant farms! She hadn’t visited the Rutledge tenants in years. It was almost enough to make her forget the uncertainty surrounding her marriage. Almost.
“I think that is a fantastic plan, Mrs. Higgens. When can we arrange a trip to visit the tenants?”
“Oh, you need not worry about making a trip to the village, my lady. Lord Rutledge and the dowager always send a servant. We would be happy to inquire for you.”
Franny threw the ball up in the air and caught it. Yes, well,thisLady Rutledge was going to do things slightly differently. Perhaps she could set into motion a shift in the Rutledge family’s approach to engaging with their tenant community—and at the same time impress her husband. Oh, that would show him. She bit her lip against a wicked grin. She would prove him thoroughly wrong. And she would glory in it.
“I will go. They are my tenants, and I would like to hear from them myself.”
Mrs. Higgens nodded, her cheeks bunching in a smile. “I think that is a lovely idea, my lady.”
Franny tossed the ball up, brought her racket back, and whacked the ball with all her might. It flew over the net straight into the grille netting, a cacophony of clanging from the net’s bells resounding through the court.Point.
Oh, how wonderful it felt to hit something. To let out the frustration, the confusion, the fear. That she was destined to a future of disapproval and rejection. But she refused to give up without a fight.
11
Rupert
Rupertdroppedheavilyintothe armchair behind his desk in his study. He stared at the gleaming rosewood surface, vast and seemingly endless. Like the endless affairs and daunting array of tasks he needed to see to.
He glanced at the pile of letters stacked neatly on his left. Invitations to sort through, determine which to attend. Which ones weresuitableto attend, ones that would further his aspirations.
His gaze dropped to the drawers of his desk. Where fresh parchment lay. A speech to write. His first one he’d make to the House of Lords. That would set the trajectory of his political career. A speech he continued to start, scribble out, scrunch up, and toss in the fire. He had no idea why.
But you do, don’t you?
He ran his hands through his curls, his fingers getting stuck in the tangles. His growl sliced through the room. God bloody fucking damn it! Lately…everything had become so confusing. Overwhelming. He didn’t know if it was the wedding he’d had no say in looming and now coming to fruition. If it was the weight of his responsibilities, of the expectations others had for him, finally becoming too much. Nothing felt right.Hedidn’t feel right.
He massaged his temples. He didn’t even know what that meant.
His gaze caught on his familiar family seal adorning the top letter in the pile to his left. Mother. His forehead pinched. A letter…already? They’d just arrived today. Which would mean his mother would have had to post the letter before he’d even departed for Dorsetshire.
The weight enveloped him, wrapped around him and didn’t allow breath. Drowning. His eyes slammed shut, and he ground the heels of his palms into them. And he knew this feeling was a sign. A sign pointing to what the true problem might be. But it couldn’t be true. He was overtired. Stressed with his responsibilities and his new marriage and all the new problems that came with it.
Rupert drew in a steadying breath and opened his mother’s letter.
My Dearest Son,
I hope this letter finds you well as you arrive at Rutledge Manor. I knew you’d take comfort in seeing my familiar scrawl, especially after what I am sure was a trying journey with her. God rest your father’s soul, but forcing us into this union with no way to back out was far from his finest decision. Still, we will endure. We have no other choice.
I fear she will not measure up to the task of standing by your side as I have. Your actions now, more than ever, are of utmost importance. You are not like other men, Rupert. Your future is exceptional. Not everyone is equipped to keep pace with someone destined for greatness. Perhaps, in time, she will prove herself fit to be called the wife of a Rutledge. But until then, your reputation must remain spotless.
