Page 91 of Madcap with a Marquess
“No! Of course, I wanted to go after you. I called for my horse immediately—”
“Odd then that you didn’t end up looking for me.” She laughed, but it was hollow, flat, dull. Like her chest, nothing but an empty cavern where her heart should be.
“Franny.” His voice was tortured. Itwastorture. But he had made his choice.
“After I came to in the ravine,” she said quietly, “with water flowing around me, for the brief moment I regained consciousness. Do you know what thought crossed my mind? What question?”
His mouth opened, but he didn’t answer. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the rug. “I felt soguiltyfor having thought it. I chastised myself because it was so obviously untrue. After our days together here, I knew it couldn’t be true.”
Her voice broke, and she met Rupert’s gaze, the same turmoil swirling like a tempest reflecting back at her. “I wondered if you would even bother looking for me. And I felt such overwhelming guilt afterwards. Because things had changed—I thought they had changed—between us. You saved me before. You would always come for me.”
She paused, forced down the despair, a lifetime of being unwanted closing in around her throat. “I thought you had come to care for me. I thought finally someone cared.” Her throat thickened, her lungs suddenly became ineffectual, every part of her body choking her. “But you didn’t come.”
“Franny, no—please.” He dropped to his knees before her, turning her chair so she faced him, looked down on him. His hands slid up her calves over the thin blush silk of her dressing robe, wrapping around them, holding tight to her.
“Franny, I know it was unforgivable that I didn’t look for you myself. And I did have every intention. But my mother had brought up a valid argument. That perhaps you had stopped to partake in something—a swim, climbing a tree. You are an active woman, Franny, adventurous. It dawned on me that perhaps Blaze had broken free of where you had tied him up. I was merely being optimistic. I was going to get Mother settled and then join in the search.”
God, he was touching her. His thumbs lightly running over her. It was everything. It was agony.
“But you never did join,” she said quietly.
He let out a frustrated growl. “Mother fainted. I had to see to her. And at that point, I didn’t want to miss your arrival.”
She studied him. Of course, his mother had fainted. She wouldn’t put it past the witch to do it on purpose. She bit back from saying so. Because it was clear where Rupert’s loyalty lay. And it wasn’t with Franny.
He rose on his knees, his hands moving to caress her cheeks. “Franny…”
She closed her eyes and inhaled a shuddering breath.
His hands tightened. “I care, Franny. I do. Me not coming for you does not have any bearing on how much I care for you.”
She opened her eyes, and their gazes locked, his eyes searching hers. “I think your actions speak volumes, Rupert.”
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
“I find it hard to believe that a man who…if a man shared even an ounce of the same…” She broke off, not willing to admit it to him. He didn’t deserve to know. “He would have come for me,” she said plainly. “That man. He would not have stopped until he found me.”
A part of her screamed that she was being unreasonable, demanding too much. She should be happy he cared even the smallest bit. It was more than she ever had before. Shewasbeing unreasonable. But she was hurting, and she couldn’t help it, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t be logical and composed. Because she didn’t want his scraps. She didn’t want to be something he sent the servants to take care of. She wanted to be his everything. She wanted to be to him what he was to her.
And the thing in all of this that hurt the most, that probably was more the reason she was shattering into fragments inside than the fact that he hadn’t searched for her…was the revelation that the man she loved would always be taken away from her. He would resurface every so often, only to be jerked back, his mother securing her strings. The bigger the threat Franny posed, the shorter those strings would get. The stronger they’d get.
She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and gently pulled his hands from her face until they settled on her knees.
“You would have been able to find me. If you had bothered to look,” she whispered. She pressed her fist against her heart. “You would have found me. Apparently, you hadn’t the desire to.”
He fell back on his calves, his face stricken.
“I suppose the only time you find it worth your while to come after me is if there is a threat to your reputation.”
“Franny, that isn’t true,” he said hoarsely.
“I saw your face when we rode in, Billy and me. You were angry. Jealous? I don’t know. But you didn’t like seeing me and Billy together.”
“Of course I didn’t, Franny. I want to tear apart any man who touches you. I cannot and will not ever be able to rid myself of that.” He rose again, his thumbs brushing away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. “You. Are. Mine,” he growled. “How was I supposed to feel, seeing you brought home in another man’s arms?”
Her shoulders sagged. She was so bloody tired. From today. From the constant fighting of their marriage. Numbness washed over her like the cold waters of the ravine. “There is only one person to blame for that, Rupert,” she said emotionlessly. “You sat at home because a lord does not dare break a sweat. He has servants to sweat for him. It is vulgar and common and beneath you to do such a thing. It was not beneath Billy to save me. I think that speaks volumes about who the gentleman truly is.”
She stood, and his hands fell away; then she hobbled over to her bed, grabbing onto the thick poster for support.
