The Bet

Chapter 17: White Lodge, Richmond Park

Prince Philip suggested they all ride to White Lodge, where they could have a vista of the woods and the London beyond.

Marcus took Frances' hand this time and helped her into her saddle. They all rode through grassland, rather than the proper roads.

Frances stopped and slid down her horse. Marcus stepped down and to Marcus' annoyance Captain Andrew too stepped down, they both asked in unison, 'What happened?'

Frances looked at Marcus and said, 'I think Chocolate hurt her legs, she can't seem to support me, she isn't used to rough terrain.'

Marcus bent down and saw the horse held one of its legs off the ground.

'You can take mine, I will be happy to walk you and Chocolate through the road' said Captain Andrew.

Marcus threw the reins to Captain Andrew 'Do take Chocolate through the road. I shall take Miss. Hill with me,' Marcus said insolently. With that Marcus helped Frances into his saddle and mounted his horse, sliding behind Frances. Before Captain Andrew could do anything, Marcus set his horse into a trot.

Frances was sitting partially in Marcus' lap. She couldn't stop blushing as the memories of last time wafted through her.

Without meaning to, she said 'Marcus.'

He looked at her, she didn't mean to call him, now he was looking at her. She said the first thing that came to her mind, 'It was good of Captain Andrew to offer to help Chocolate.'

His eyes flashed, 'Yes' he said curtly.

Frances bit her lip, she asked, 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' he replied even more curtly .

Frances had enough, Marcus was ignoring her all during the match, she kept looking at him, but he was staring the other direction all the time. She didn't know why he was angry.

She asked, 'Why are you angry at me?'

'No I am not,' said Marcus.

She was angry now, 'Yes you are. You have been ignoring me all day, and answering me curtly. If you didn't want to be with me, why didn't you just let Captain Andrew walk me'

Marcus' eye flashed even more, Frances knew she had crossed lines this time. she blurted, 'Are you jealous?'

Marcus' face blanched, as he said 'No I am not, why should I be.'

Frances couldn't suppress her giggle as she said, 'O! Now I see, you were jealous.'

He started 'No I -', before he could finish she kissed his cheeks and said, 'It's sweet.'

Was he jealous as Frances said? He wanted Frances to be his and only his. Marcus pulled her closer, hugging her possessively. He wanted to beat that infernal Captain Andrew limb to limb.

They reached the White Lodge. It was a three story building. Frances was amazed by the grand building. It was larger than her house in Liverpool, though this was a mere hunting lounge. The walls of the great hall were covered with deer head trophy and antlers.

Lunch served was delicious, it included games hunted from the park. To Marcus' delight, Captain Andrew who had arrived before them had retired to his allocated room without lunch.

Marcus and Frances left for the stable to see how Chocolate was doing. Chocolate needed some time to recuperate, The stableman promised to return her to Chestnut House once she was better.

When Marcus and Frances returned to White Lodge, everyone had already retired. Marcus pulled Frances into his room. He did everything he dreamed about her and more.

Marcus woke up, but he lay in bed listening to Frances move about in the sitting room attached to the bedchamber. Marcus could still hear Frances asking him 'Are you jealous.' Was he jealous? It was natural to want to beat Captain Andrew limb to limb, but he had to control that feeling. If he had to be honest with himself he was jealous. He didn't want Captain Andrew to get close with Frances. Damn! He didn't want any man, not just Captain Andrew. She was his and only his.

Marcus knew what he had to do; he had to marry Frances. Marcus thought about the times he spent with her and the passion he felt for her, he decided marrying Frances was not a bad idea.

Marcus was a man of action, if he planned something he did it, he didn't fiddle his finger and waste his time. Marcus was going to propose to Frances now. He pulled on his breeches and looked for his shirt, but it was no were to be found.

Frances entered from the sitting room with a tray of treacle tart and a cup of tea. 'The maids had left this in the sitting room when we left for the stables, so thoughtful of them,' she said.

At lunch, Frances couldn't eat the treacle tart as her stomach was full of meat. Marcus had noticed the look of longing in Frances' face as she finally accepted she couldn't possibly eat even a single mouth. Marcus had requested a maid to leave the dessert in his sitting room.

'Is that my shirt?' Marcus asked with his eye twinkling. Frances was wearing his shirt, the rest of her was a feast for his eyes.

Frances blushed as said, 'Yes, my habit shirt had buttons in the back, I can't wear them without help. I didn't want to walk about - ' she gulped and blushed even more.

Marcus knew she meant to say nude, but she couldn't bring herself to it.

She said, 'Do you mind?'

'No, I don't mind. And I don't mind if you walk around - you know,' he paused there, gave Frances a wicked smile and said ' - naked.'

She blushed and said in a mock outrage, 'Marcus.'

As Frances was placing the tray on a side table.

Marcus drew near her. He took her hand in his and kissed it. He went down on one knee and asked 'Frances, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

Before Marcus knew what happened, flump! and a crash! Marcus was covered in sugar syrup.

Frances waited for Marcus to wake up, so they could have the treacle tart together. When she heard him move about she had taken the tray to the bedchamber.

Frances placed the treacle tart on the side table, she turned to find Marcus right behind her. Everything after that moment felt like a dream. God! This handsome man she loved so much was on one knee.

Marcus was asking her to be his wife. She wanted to say 'yes.' She felt weak, her legs felt like jelly. She was going to collapse. She thought, please Frances don't fall, don't ruin a perfect proposal. She placed a hand on the side table for support, except her hand connected to the rim of the plate.

The plate acted as a catapult, it sent the treacle tart flying. Flump! The treacle tart flew and hit Marcus squarely on the face. Crash! The plate, its job done clatted to the ground.

Frances shouted, 'No!.. I mean Yes.'

'Did you just hit me with a treacle tart,' asked Marcus amused.

Frances said, 'No!.. yes.'

Frances was mortified, she knew she had ruined any chance she had with Marcus. Why would a man marry a girl who hit him with a tart, when proposed.

Marcus guffawed, he was confident that the proposal would go smoothly, why would she reject, while she liked him. However, Frances was, well, frankly Frances.

'Only you could make a proposal amusing' Marcus said as he pulled and kissed her.

She melted into him, this kiss was sweeter than treacle tart. Marcus knew being Frances' husband would not be easy, but definitely amusing.

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