Page 73 of Madcap with a Marquess
The light from the bonfire did nothing to hide the hurt that flashed over her face, chased quickly away by a much-too-large smile. “You are here now, and that is what counts.”
They broke apart, stomping and clapping while circling each other. Franny’s eyes slid shut, her arms lifting over head as she swayed and rocked in time with the music. Everything about her was soft, relaxed, joyful. She was in her element here. Free. From constraints. From a man’s unyielding rule.
It’s how he wanted her to feel in their marriage. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as defying society’s rules and damning the consequences. But somehow, they would find a way. Her words from back in the tack room drifted through his mind.Blend my madcap ways with your unwavering manners, and maybe—just maybe—we’ll find the best of both worlds.He was certain they would.
Her eyes fluttered open, instantly locking with his.
“I humbly disagree, wife.” He arched a brow. “I think it quite necessary I make it up to you and pay penance for my sins as a neglectful husband.”
Her smile turned genuine at that, her eyes glowing even brighter than the flames surrounding them.
“Do you have any request for my penance, my lady?”
A devilish look crossed her face, the kind that raised the hair on one’s arms, but kicked up their heartbeat in anticipation. “It just so happens, my lord, I do. I’d like you to jump over the bonfire with me.”
He abruptly stopped dancing. “Pardon?”
She hopped up and down, clapping like a gleeful child. “Jump over the fire with me, Rupert.”
He glanced at the roaring fires. “Why on earth would we do that? That seems like a horrible—and hazardous—idea.”
“It’s tradition. It bestows good luck on the person jumping, whether it’s a healthy harvest, or in the case of a couple”—she arched a meaningful brow—“a healthy future, a healthy marriage.”
He glanced at the fire, a group of young men leaping over the edge of one of the bonfires, right behind them a couple swinging their arms, preparing for the leap. “That part does sound nice, but the whole catching fire part not so much.”
“The river is only a short dash away. We’ll be fine, Rupert. Just don’t fallintothe fire. Anything else can easily be put out.” A devilish glint flared in her eyes, daring him.
He never could refuse her dares.
Rupert tangled his fingers with hers and briskly led her to the smallest of the three bonfires. For once in his life, he was going to join Franny in her fun. Take a risk. Take a leap. Because he wanted to. “As my lady wishes.”
She shot him an impish look from the corner of her eye, excitement radiating from her. Yes, he’d leap through fire for her, with her.
He started swinging their hands, a grin spreading on his face just as quickly as the adrenaline starting up in his veins. “Ready, Franny? On three we jump.”
She nodded.
“One.” They rushed forward. “Two.” The heat licked at their skin. “Three!” They leaped through the flames and stumbled to a stop on the other side of the fire, laughing and doing their bloody damnedest not to fall flat on their arses.
And then the smell of burning muslin reached his nose. He glanced down at Franny’s skirts. Skirts that wereon fire.
“Oh dear,” she said, laughter bursting from her as she tried to kick out the flames, to no avail.
“Roll with her!” someone shouted nearby.
“Drop her to the ground and roll it out!” someone else called.
Rupert didn’t even stop to think. He wrapped his arms around her, took her to the ground, and started rolling.
She squealed, laughing uproariously.
“Franny, this isn’t funny,” he bit out. “You. Are. On. Fire.”
She snorted, and her body shook as she broke out into even more snorts of laughter. He glanced down and saw her skirts were no longer aflame, just smoking now. He stopped their rolling, and someone hurried over and held out a jug.
“Water,” Billy Doherty said calmly. “To ensure it doesn’t light up again.
Rupert quickly took it and dumped it on Franny’s singed skirts. Steam hissed up from the fabric at the contact of the cool water.
