Page 43 of Madcap with a Marquess
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Franny
AknockcameonFranny’s bedchamber door, and she looked up from the book she was reading. She frowned at the offending door. She had just gotten to the part where the main characters were turning from enemies to lovers. How dare someone interrupt now!
“Come in,” she called out. Her tonemayhave come out a bit grumbly.
The door opened slightly, and Rupert’s head peeked through. His gaze found hers, his eyes flitting uncertainly over her. “Is this a bad time?”
Fine, it had definitely beengrumbly.
She closed her book and placed it on the end table next to her armchair. “No, please come in, my lord.”
He winced. Good, the lout knew she was displeased with him. No. False. She wasn’t displeased. She didn’t care at all about him. He was nothing to her.
And she was very happy with it that way.
Very jolly.
Merry as a bloody Grig.
He pushed the door open and walked awkwardly into the room, hands tucked behind his back. Goodness, it must have been an extra-large stick he’d shoved up there today.
He rocked back and forth on his feet. “What are you occupying yourself with?” His gaze trailed over her and fell to the book on the end table. “Reading?”
She nodded slowly. What on earth was going on?
“Anything especially diverting?”
She cocked her head. She wondered what he’d think if she told him. She supposed she didn’t truly care anymore. “It’s a naughty novel.”
His eyes stretched round, and a blush flared on his cheeks. Her lips twitched. Howthatmade him blush after the things they’d done together was baffling and a teensy bit hilarious.
One of his hands fell to his thigh, and he tapped it twice. “That sounds…lovely.”
She snorted. “Please. I know you are appalled, my lord.” She jutted out her chin. “But I won’t stop reading them, regardless of if it goes against what a respectable lady would read.”
He glanced to the floor and seemed to steel himself. Then he glanced up at her, and her heartbeat trickled to a stop at the confliction and confusion shining back at her in those brown eyes.
“Rupert,” he said quietly. “Please, Franny.”
A sting built behind her nose, and she glanced away, biting her cheek hard. She wasnotgoing to cry. He didn’t deserve her tears, and she didn’t want him to know he’d wounded her. She blew out a breath and forced her lips upward.
“Rupert. What brings me the pleasure of your company?”
His mouth tugged up in a sad half-smile. “Pleasure? I’m sure you find no pleasure in my company.”
Well, that really depended on which version of Rupert she was getting. One version delivered quite exquisite pleasure. But she knew what would happen if she even hinted at that. So she remained silent. Let him fidget uncomfortably under her stare.
He finally stepped forward and revealed a small bouquet of flowers he’d kept hidden behind himself. She stared dumbly at the assortment of wildflowers, her gaze catching on the bright red poppies nestled between daisies and a mix of other colorful blossoms.
He thrust them toward her, and the smell of wildflowers assaulted her senses, petals tickling her nose. He pulled them back slightly and shot her a sheepish smile. “Apologies.”
She took them from him, tracing over the silky soft blooms.
“I know they’re not much. I suppose I should have had the gardener put together something more elaborate from the greenhouse. I just… The wildflowers bordering our estates always made me think of you…”
Her gaze flew to his, her heart clamoring in her chest. His mottled blush was now a deep crimson. Was he saying…
