Page 23 of Madcap with a Marquess
Her ebony brows pinched, and she tilted her head. “I’m sorry?” She drew out the word, her tone lilting up.
“That is whatIwas trying to say. I must sincerely beg your pardon.” He curled his fists on his thighs. Forced himself to hold her gaze. Because he wanted her to know he meant the words, even as he struggled to call them forward. “For our wedding night…leaving you. And for not making time for you earlier.”
She blinked at him, and something in her visage—the way it went soft, from the color of her irises to the press of her lips—had a warm buzzing starting up inside him. “I appreciate that,” she said quietly.
The buzzing intensified, his heart feeling too large for his chest. He had pleased her. A foreign occurrence with him and Franny. One he’d very much like to make happen more often.
“If you happened to see any rooms on your tour earlier you would prefer to redecorate, please don’t hesitate to work with Mrs. Higgens.” He placed a slice of pheasant on her plate and then one on his own. “As Lady of the Manor, it is yours to do with as you please.”
Her shoulders bobbed in a little shrug. “All the rooms seemed nice enough as they are.”
She popped a bite of pheasant in her mouth.
“You do not enjoy decorating and upholstery then?” he said, his gaze locked on the fork sliding between her lips.
She let out a breathy laugh through her nose as she chewed. She swallowed and dusted her mouth with her napkin. “Truly, Rupert? You thinkIwould want to pick out paper hangings and curtain patterns?”
“Well, I suppose not. I do not exactly know what you like to do outside of your typical improper behavior.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Apologies,” he said hastily. Look at that. Apologizing was already coming much more naturally. “I meant I do not know what acceptable ladylike activities you enjoy.”
The lines around her mouth deepened, and she shook her head. She let out a deep woe-is-me sigh and plopped her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers. “It is called fun, Rupert. I like to have fun. There are noacceptableladylike behaviors I enjoy. There are acceptable behaviors I put up with. I endure. Like your self-important comments.”
He frowned. “I don’t mean to sound self-important—”
She snorted.
He glared harder at her, but she only sat back, quirking her knowing brows at him. Which he chose to ignore.
“Regardless, you cannot run wild over London when we return. You must enjoy something that adheres to suitable decorum for a lady.”
“Do you hear yourself? Do you think anything that qualifies assuitable decorumis enjoyable? I understand I cannot be climbing trees in London, but goodness, if I want to climb that lovely oak by the Rutledge stablesin the privacy of my own estate,I will.” She picked up her wineglass, swirling the deep red liquid. “Something Proper Perty wouldn’t know much about, I suppose. WhatdoesProper Perty do for fun? Do you even know how?”
“We will revisit the climbing of trees later,” he said pointedly. It was one thing to climb as children, but as an adult? “But, for fun. I suppose I have the running of the estates, the tenants’ yields, addressing any concerns raised with my family’s steward, and now that I’ve joined the House of Lords, I have much to focus on there, learning and developing my reputation.”
She made an odd face at him, then her eyes rolled heavenward, gaze searching the ceiling.
“What…are you doing?” he asked.
“What do you mean,what am I doing?I am eating dinner.”
“No, your face. You’re wrinkling your nose up very strangely.” He glanced up. “Is there something interesting on the ceiling?”
“I was looking for divine intervention. And my nose?” Her lips twitched. “It’s called a look of disgust, Rupert. Because what you just listed?Ick.Those things are most definitelynotfun.”
He frowned at her. God forbid someone have responsibilities that they tended to. Franny thought one could run wild, and life would take care of itself.
“I have a duty to uphold—”
Her nose did the wrinkling thing again, and he stopped short.
“You are always cinched as tight as a horse’s saddle, Rupert. You cannot be consumed by your duties every minute of every day. What do you do to let loose? There must be something you do to relieve all that tension.”
You, I would love to let all my tension out on you. Over. And over. And over.
His eyes widened. “Golf,” he blurted.
