Page 45 of Madcap with a Marquess
He was also the man who had almost kissed her today during the painting of their family portrait. When their eyes had met, only inches separating them, she swore she saw it—that same aching longing reflected back at her. But then he’d turned down her invitation to play tennis. She’d thought perhaps the flowers, the apology, the dresses…meant something. Meant he wanted to spend time with her.
But again, he denied her.
There were only so many times her hope could be crushed before she no longer had the strength to rebuild it. Before she had to accept the dreams she foolishly harbored were not and would never be a reality. How long did she hope for?
After no response at the front door, Franny walked around behind the cottage to see if the family was in the back tending to their livestock. She spotted a familiar broad frame, hat covering a head of shaggy, dark-red hair, standing by a pen of piglets. Her mood instantly brightened. Distraction was a beautiful thing.
She paused in front of a low pen, little black piglets with the telltale Hampshire white band around their front half and forelegs squealing and scurrying about.
“Quite a litter of piglets you have this year, Mr. Doherty.”
The shaggy red-haired man turned, and his face lit with recognition, the many smile lines on his weathered face crinkling deeply. “Lady Rutledge! How lovely to see you, m’lady. I was hoping when the Missus said you had stopped by, I’d be seeing you.” He glanced at the pen of squirming piglets. “My prize sow, Sadie, really produced for me this year. Twelve piglets, not one needing culling. Or chasing.” He grinned at her, his rosy cheeks bunching over his toothy smile. “Looking forward to what trading I can make with them at the festival.”
She grinned in return. “If they ever get loose, you know who to call for. Considering none of your three strapping lads could do the job. It’s fortunate for you that I’d been around that day. You needed a woman to get a job done right.”
Mr. Doherty chuckled and murmured, “You have that right. Don’t know where I’d be without the Missus.”
Her heart squirmed uncomfortably at the love and admiration in his voice, like it desperately wanted to flee, couldn’t stand being exposed to the affection it so dreadfully lacked.
“Is that Lady Francine?” a deep male voice rumbled.
Franny turned, and her smile faltered as she blinked up, up, up at little Billy Doherty. Who was no longer little anything. Genny hadn’t been lying when she’d commented on her brother’s intimidating size the prior week. No wonder he was scaring away all her suitors.
“Goodness, Billy. Did you double in size since I last saw you?”
He grinned, identical to his papa, just a thinner, younger, andquitehandsome version.
“I may have done.” He pulled on a red wave hanging over his brow. “It has been a few years now, and I finally hit that growth spurt I had always been hoping for. Ma couldn’t get me in trousers that fit for near two years with how fast I was outgrowing them. Thankfully, it seems I’ve finally stopped.”
“I daresay you could catch an escaped piglet now,” she teased.
He furrowed deep-red brows, pursed his lips thoughtfully, and tapped his chin. “I s’pose I could now. But it’d be much more fun to watch you get covered head to toe in mud again.” He threw her a wink.
“Probably shouldn’t be sayin’ you’d like to see Her Ladyship in a pile of muck, son. ‘Twill get you in trouble.” But there was no heat in Mr. Doherty’s tone, and his eyes danced.
Even so, Billy Doherty’s green eyes stretched owlishly. He quickly doffed his hat. “Lady Rutledge? ‘Tis true?”
Franny chuckled. “Yes, Billy, I am the lady of my own house now.” She leaned forward and said in a hushed voice. “Is it bad that I still want to chase pigs if I so desire?”
Billy quickly bent over the pen and scooped up a squealing piglet. He held the little squirming black and white pig out like he was about to let it loose, his face splitting in a devilish grin. “I would be happy to oblige, my lady. ‘Tis a benefit of being the Lady of the Manor, getting to do as you please now.”
Franny reached out and pet the soft animal, a smile tilting her lips, but it was sadness that filled her chest. Getting to do as she pleased… Her husband would not agree with that sentiment. “Thank you for the offer, Billy. Even if your true aim is me ending up in that mud pit.” She nodded her head in the direction Billy had held the pig out, where a large pool of water had gathered from a recent rain, creating a slick patch of mud. “Is Genny around? I was hoping to take some air with her.”
Billy carefully placed the piglet back in the pen, shaking his head.
“Mrs. Doherty and Genny are off at Mrs. Fields’s,” Mr. Doherty said. “Helping her with tending to some housekeeping. The poor woman’s gout flared up, and she has been struggling to keep up.”
“How kind of them. Your family has always been exceptionally generous. We could use more people like you in the world.”
Mr. Doherty blushed a deep red from the collar of his neck scarf to the tip of his ears and shifted back and forth on his feet. “Thank you, m’lady. We do what we can to help those who need it.”
Including her.
“Was there something particular you needed Genny for?” Billy asked. “I can try to act as a substitute, though I warn, I won’t don a dress and plait my hair.”
Franny bit her lower lip and did her best not to snicker at the image of the mammoth of a man before her wearing a flowery day dress. “I do believe a soft green would look lovely on you,” she added thoughtfully, examining his mahogany cropped hair.
He glanced down and flounced back and forth, grabbing the skirts of his imaginary dress. “Do you truly think so?” He looked up at her, fluttering his eyelashes.
