Page 92 of Madcap with a Marquess
He was at her back in seconds. “You will do yourself further injury. You cannot be walking on your ankle in its current state. Can I at least assist you into bed?”
His hand settled on her lower back. And that touch, the soft press of each individual fingertip. God, each one was like a blade. All she wanted was to let him hold her, hold on to him and not let go. Pretend his dragon of a mother wasn’t out there somewhere in the manor, just waiting to steal this man away from Franny. Franny didn’t know if she could battle a dragon every day for the rest of her marriage. For once, she didn’t think she had enough fight in her. For once, she had found something that could break her.
“If you wouldn’t mind removing your hands from my person,” she said flatly, an echo of his words a few days past in his study.
His hand immediately left her. But she could still hear the soft draw of his breath, the smooth exhale, feel the heat of each puff of air against the back of her neck.
She turned to look at him. Mistake. He was inches from her, his fathomless brown eyes staring at her as if they could bore into her soul. His soft lips so close, so tempting, in the comfort they would give her, in the comfort his embrace would provide. She so desperately wanted to be held, instead of having to hold herself up.
His lips brushed across hers, and she squeezed her eyes tight as her heart splintered painfully. She jerked back.
“No.No, Rupert. Icannot.” She took a small step backward. “I know our relationship hasn’t been perfect.” A laugh burst from her, and she snapped her lips shut, cutting off the maniacal sound filling the room. But they were so bloody far from perfect.
She drew in a breath and started over. “I will always test your patience; you will always curse my recklessness. And I will always get angry at you when your better-than-thou self makes an appearance. But that isus, Rupert. You are here to tell me when I go too far, keep my feet on solid ground. And I am here to tell you when you are being the world’s largest arse and remind you how tolive. But after today…I am not so sure even that relationship is truly possible. Can our relationship withstand your mother?”
“Yes.” He hissed it, vehemence coating his words, surety, resolve.
She wished she could let herself believe it. But she was terrified. She could feel the armor wrapping itself around her heart, her body’s instinctive impulse to protect itself from a devastation only this man was capable of.
Rupert’s hand came up, his knuckles drifting softly over her cheek. “I am so deeply sorry; no words will ever do justice to explain the depth of it. But, please, Franny, let me make it right.”
She stared into those deep brown eyes, the same color as the wood of the forest at night. And just like a forest, she lost herself in them.
His forehead met hers, his breath coasting over her lips. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”
“I would like some time on my own,” she managed to choke out. “I am quite tired. I think I shall rest until the doctor arrives.”
He cleared his throat. “Of course. As you wish.”
They both pulled away, taking a step back, and stared at each other silently. And then she turned away. From him. From them.
His footsteps thudded against the carpet, a pace, two paces, three, and paused. A soft clatter echoed in the chamber, and she slowly glanced over her shoulder to see Rupert standing at her dressing table, her locket—repaired—on its surface.
He gradually backed toward the door, his gaze never leaving hers. He hesitated at the door, gripping the handle.
“If there is anything you need, I will be in the family sitting room. Ring for me. For anything. I will never not come for you again, Franny. I swear it.”
He pulled the door open and left, shutting it quietly behind him.
Franny limped over to the table and picked up her locket. She turned it over in her palms, the silver warm from the heat of his palms. Her eyes burned, the feel of the heat from his person too close to an actual touch, one she couldn't handle right now. She popped open the empty locket, out of habit, something she had done a million times before. And froze. Stopped breathing. The no longer empty locket. Because inside now lay her miniature on one side, Rupert’s on the other.
It was too much. Her anger, her hurt, her grief, her disappointment, her confusion, rushed over her like a tidal wave, taking her down, pulling her under. A sob wrenched from her chest as she fell heavily in her chair, her head dropping onto her arms on her dressing table.
Clutching the locket to her chest like a lifeline, she allowed the emotions to crash over her. The fear that the man she’d fallen in love with would never truly be hers. The anguish that came from knowing she wasn’t enough to break him away from his mother’s clutches. And the loneliness that came from one-and-twenty years of neglect.
She finally did something she almost never allowed herself to do.
She allowed herself to fall apart.
48
Rupert
AsRuperthadwalkedaway, he’d heard her. And he couldn’t erase it, the sound of her wracking sobs. The sound would haunt him. He knew—because it already was. He paused in the doorway of the family sitting room and gripped the doorframe with ghost-white knuckles. Every sob echoing in his mind sent a shock of pain through him, like his body was freezing from the inside out. It was all he could do not to double over. How badly he had wounded her. He had never known one could feel pain so acute because of the hurt of another.
He drew in a fortifying breath and stepped into the room. His mother watched him, her expression inscrutable as he settled in the armchair next to her. It was time for a discussion long overdue. It was time to establish boundaries.
“Did you discuss with your wife her reprehensible behavior? Shall I expect a timely apology for her impudence?”
