Page 23

23

Franny

A knock came on Franny’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 tone may have 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 been grumbly.

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. How that made 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 was not going 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…

“Rupert, did you gather these yourself?”

“May have done,” he said gruffly, doing that rocking on his feet thing again.

She slowly stood and studied the blossoms as she twirled the bouquet between her hands. “They’re very pretty,” she said softly. She glanced up, and her stare clashed with his.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Her pulse escalated.

“I realized I made a terrible oversight,” he continued in a whisper. “And I also realize these are a pale excuse for a present. I have something else…it is just not ready yet.”

A present? For her? Something warm coiled tight inside her chest.

“Happy belated birthday, Franny.”

Her breath caught, her throat growing tight. He had no idea what hearing those words meant to her. How starved she’d been to hear them from someone—anyone. But they sounded even better than she could have ever imagined coming from him.

At some point, he’d stepped even closer. Or perhaps she had. But he was so close now that every breath of his puffed over her skin, his earthy masculine sent washing over her.

Her eyes burned, and she blinked rapidly.

“Franny? Are they not to your liking? I can take them—”

“No.” She shook her head and tried to clear away the emotion thick in her throat. “No, they’re very much to my liking. I’ve never had a present before.” She sent him a tremulous smile. “They’re perfect.”

He frowned, his lips pursing. “You’ve never—”

She lifted on tiptoe and cut him off with a kiss. She didn’t want to spoil the moment with pity or anything else other than whatever this was passing between them.

He blinked at her and then his hand slid over her cheek with infinite slowness, and even though she managed to suppress an outward tremor, her heart still trembled in her chest.

“I’m so sorry for my behavior the other day, Franny.” His gaze darted between her eyes, searching. “I should never have lost my temper the way I did. I was unpardonably rude to you.” He grimaced, and his hand started to slide from her face, but she quickly caught it and held it tight to her.

His stare dipped to her lips, lingered. And then his fingers tightened lightly on her cheek, and he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. Soft and sweet and soul-stirring.

Rupert pulled away and took a small step back, tucking his hands behind him again. He nodded toward the flowers. “I’ll have a maid sent up with a vase and water for them.”

He took another step toward her chamber door, and she wanted to ask him to stay. But she was too fragile. And that was not something Franny ever allowed herself to be. For once, she needed a bit of space herself. Because when something was fragile, it was easily broken.

“I won’t disturb you any longer.” He flashed a bashful smile at her. “Enjoy your…naughty novel, Franny.” He winked and slipped from her room.

She rested her hand on her racing heart. She very much liked the version of Rupert who had showed up just now.