Page 3 of Madcap with a Marquess
“Rupert, are you well? Does anything hurt? Is anything broken?”
“I-I am well. Wind. Knocked,” he choked out.
Franny let out a breath on a whoosh.Thank the Almighty.
“Rupert! My goodness, Rupert!” Lady Rutledge’s scream reached a new level of shrillness, and Franny winced, digging a finger into her ear.
Franny helped Rupert up, and his mother jerked him away. Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him an arm’s length away and scanned his person.
“How could you be so reckless, Rupert,” she scolded.
A large hand landed on Franny’s upper arm and wrenched her back. She ground her teeth, swallowing down her sharp inhale. The hand dug into her flesh, bone crushing. All laughter, delight, and even worry over Rupert’s fall dissipated. A child’s sandcastle dried out, blown away by the wind. Replaced by a numbing emptiness.
She glanced up at the hard, angry visage looming over her. Her father’s jet-black brows nearly met in the middle, his lips disappearing into a thin line.
“What if you had been badly injured? What if you haddied?” Lady Rutledge demanded. “Where would I be then? Your father is ailing and could pass any day now. And you risk your neck by doing something as undignified as climbing a tree? Do you have no thought for your dear mama? You would risk my welfare being in the hands of your father’s distant cousins?”
Franny’s lip curled up.PoorLady Rutledge. Rupert glanced at Franny then, his eyes accusatory as he glared at her. No, not Rupert. Lord Hampton. Once again, Rupert was gone.
Lady Rutledge turned toward Franny, her lips pursing. “Andyou. You and your reckless behavior putting an heir’s life in danger.” She turned to Franny’s father. “Has she not had a proper governess or tutelage? You allow her to run wild like a…a heathen! She is nowhere near fit to be a marquess’s wife.”
The hand on her arm tightened, and Franny sucked in a breath. She wiggled her toes.Breathe through it, Franny. The bruises always faded.
“You have nothing to worry about, Lady Rutledge. We are still in the process of finding…the right governess for Lady Francine’s temperament. I assure you, we will find one who can mold her into a proper young lady.” He glared down at Franny. “She will be ready when the time comes.” His voice came out calm and polite and cajoling. To anyone other than Franny. Franny knew exactly what that tone meant. It meant discipline. It meant danger.
“Be sure that you do. I will be speaking to Lord Rutledge about this.”
Her father’s jaw ticked, and the sound of bone grinding against bone sent a chill skittering down Franny’s spine. Her father abruptly yanked her towards their estate. She stumbled, struggling to keep up with him.
“Never fear, Mama, she will never behave in such a way when she is my wife. No wife ofminewill resort to such unbecoming behavior.”
Franny snarled at Rupert.
“Enough.” Her father’s voice was forebodingly quiet as he gave her a slight shake. “Howdareyou jeopardize the betrothal. Not another word. Not another look. We will have words as soon as we return. I hope you enjoyed having your filthy mongrel of a dog around. Because he is being disposed of immediately.”
Franny’s heart plummeted.No.Not Jasper, her field spaniel. Her eyes welled, but she blinked hard, refusing to let him win.
“Please, my lord. I promise I will behave. I will be the perfect young lady.”
“As though I haven’t heard that countless times before.” His voice dripped with disgust. “I have been too easy on you. The dog goes.”
Franny turned and glared at Rupert’s back. The starched lordling was strutting toward Rutledge Manor with his mother.
If you think climbing a tree is the worst I can do, Pompous Perty, you are in for a surprise. I promise you, there is much more in store.
2
Franny
9 years later.
London, England.
1809.
FRANNY STOOD OUTSIDE her father’s study, staring at the ornately carved oak doors.You can do this, Franny. This is your future. Your only chance out of this marriage.She took a deep breath and rapped her fist against the door.
“Enter.”
