Page 89 of Madcap with a Marquess
“Mother,” he clipped out. “Now is not the time. My wife’s welfare is what is of most import.”
He strode to Franny, meeting her halfway. He paused before her—
And she continued past him.
He turned, opening and closing his mouth. Like a daft gaping trout.
He rushed after her. “Franny, what on earth happened?”
She ignored him.
Her wet clothes registered, her sagging, soggy coiffure. Wait, was that blood? Allhisblood left him.
He fell into step beside her. “Franny. Love. What happened?” He really hoped the doctor had arrived. She needed to be seen immediately.
She remained silent, her stony visage telling him nothing.
His hand shot out, gripping her arm, and she finally stopped. He stepped in front of her, and they locked gazes. Hers gave nothing away.
He furrowed his brow, a chill seeping through him, and he shifted from foot to foot. “Why-why won’t you speak to me? You are bleeding, love. What happened?”
Something dangerous flashed across her face but quickly disappeared, though her expression remained hard.
“I see,” she said flatly, “you didn’t bother yourself with looking for me.”
“I did, Franny. I sent a search party out looking for you.”
A twisted smile curved her lips. “Yes, you sent the servants.Youdidn’t join the search, my lord.”
A laugh sounded behind him, and Franny’s gaze moved over his shoulder, her entire body stiffening.
“My dear girl, why ever would my son lower himself to perform the duties of a servant, especially for the mere happenings of a hoyden. A loyal wife, after all, would never subject her husband to such undignified behavior. Strutting about in men’s clothing, gallivanting about the estate without a care, cozying up toother men.You risk tarnishing his reputation, destroying his political ambitions. How could you be so insolent?”
Rupert’s shoulders tightened, and he ground his teeth at the vehemence in his mother’s tone. She went too far.
Franny limped past Rupert, her shoulder knocking—rather forcefully—into his. She halted in front of his mother, and he waited with bated breath. She held his mother’s gaze, her chin lifted; nothing about her stance, her stare, demure nor respectful. She lowered into a perfect curtsy, her gaze not once dropping. Defiant. He couldn’t imagine the strength it took her, not to so much as wince as she lowered before the dowager.
“Mother, how lovely of you to grace us with yourcharmingpresence,” Franny said, slowly rising, her voice one that put his mother’s bored aristocratic drawl to shame. “The manor was truly overflowing with unbridled joy and lighthearted gaiety in your absence. Thank goodness you have come to our aid, as we were in desperate need of rescue from the dreadful fate of enjoying ourselves.”
His mother’s sharp inhalation rent the air and everyone—everything—stilled.
But Franny didn’t stop there.
“How fortunate I am,” she said softly. “To have you here to enlighten me in the suffocating rigidity of convention. A skill you have clearly mastered if your pinched expression and uptight bearing is any indication.”
“Wha-Why I never,” his mother sputtered as Franny turned, giving her back to the dowager, and limped toward the house.
Mrs. Higgens quickly gathered Franny in her arms, her gaze falling on his for the briefest of moments before she ushered Franny inside. But it was long enough for Rupert to see the disappointment glimmering in his housekeeper’s eyes.
He continued to stare at the closed kitchen door long after it had shut. None of the joy at hearing of Franny’s discovery remained. He looked back and caught Billy Doherty’s eye. He needed to find out what had happened, and with Franny avoiding him, Billy was his only chance.
He headed for the large man, but his Mother’s words halted him.
“What are you doing, Rupert?” she hissed.
He slowly turned to his mother, his face stiff. “I am going to find out from Mr. Doherty what he knows of Franny’s accident.”
“Goodness, Rupert. Have a servant write down the information and report back. Do not associate with the rabble. Look at the man, he looks uncivilized.”
