meddled / MICHAEL & FRANCESCA
michael shrugged his shoulders, focusing on taking another sip of tea. if she had looked a little closer at him she might have seen the bruised knuckles. or how tired his whole body seemed to be because his dreams were filled with thoughts of her. of losing her. losing something that was never his to begin with and at this point would never be. he gave a polite nod before setting his tea cup down and leaning back into the chair. he took a moment to look out of the window and the sunny day, trying to avoid her gaze. he didn’t want to see the excitement that was surely brought with the suitors attentions. or how her future was blossoming open to new gardens, and new experiences, and he felt like he might be stuck in this hall forever.
he chuckled, “ i think you’re just being kind. ” the women of the ton new the reputation he had as a rake. although it wasn’t one he took pride in at all, it certainly was well known. his newfound title did diminish some of the worry that came with that, but he was still wary of the interest. “ thought it best that i wasn’t here to frighten away the suitors, ” he said, making up the excuse as he went, “ you have enough brothers to get that job done already. ” truly he wasn’t sure if he could compose himself during such shameless advances. he didn’t want francesca to have to endure that part of him. michael looked up, eyebrows drawn together as if he is afraid he has said something wrong. so when she speaks it was a relief to him that it had instead been the perfect thing to say.
there was a timid nod before daring to look upon her again. “ it’s true though. ” he said, reaching for the tea cup, as a way to occupy his hands. “ you would enhance anyone’s life, you certainly have with mine. ” he cleared his throat. perhaps this is the closest he would ever get to professing his true feelings. even the kind words feel like a sort of betrayal.
She rested her chin against the backs of curled fingers, her elbow propped gently on the arm of her chair. While his gaze went elsewhere, hers was allowed to train on him without being watched by his eyes in return, and that moment’s freedom tempted her too much. Her initial impression from his entry moments ago remained markedly in her mind, and as she studied him, it solidified. He’d always had that slyness to his features, a certain something that made everything he said sound like a secret, tantalizing and delicious. But the softness that she’d found upon their first meeting remained despite the years that had sprawled between then and now. She’d always thought that he looked kind. He had a light in his eyes, in his expressions even when stoic, that she thought would attract most anyone or anything. His reputation, though perhaps a little annoying to her, was reasonably well earned. The merry rake. Sweet and wicked.
Except now she wanted to kick anyone in the shins who called him that.
Her eyes rolled openly, unable to hold up much pretence with him. Such behaviour was entirely unbecoming, but being with him was as natural as being with family. Well, he was family. “I have no reason to say anything other than the truth,” Francesca said simply, giving him a rather pointed look at the accusation that she would say anything to him just to be kind. She was not known for exaggerating on anyone’s behalf. She sighed quietly at his remark, considering him for a moment. “Perhaps,” she conceded, though they were all fairly busy with their own lives at this point -- Anthony with all his duties, with his wife and children, and Benedict with the latter two as well. Colin she saw only occasionally -- between his travels and her position at Kilmartin, she’d seen more of him in the last two weeks than she had in years, truly. Her voice floated back in softly. “But you should know that your opinion is significant to me.” Even after all this time.
And the fact that he still held her in high regard, even after four years of little communication, it meant the world to her. She still didn’t know how to explain herself, defend herself for the lack of responses sent his way, but she hoped that he might have understood. They’d hurt in different ways, hurt each other in different ways. Emotion sprung forth in her eyes, shining with wetness at his earnest declaration. “Oh. I --” she cut herself off. “Michael. I have missed you so much.”