Hi! I’m new here. Would you ever consider writing Franchaela?
Hi! Welcome! I have a tiny bit of Franchaela: Eloise, Francesca and Michaela visit Benedict and Sophie and their new baby at My Cottage
Here's a little more:
Meals are incredibly informal.
Yes, they all sit around a table together, but Charlie is settled in a little basket on a chair between Sophie and Benedict. No one dresses for dinner. They chat about what’s been going on in town.
“Cressida hosted another ball,” Eloise tells them. “It was pinker than the last one.”
“How is that even possible?” Benedict asks, laughing a little.
“I do not know, but she managed it,” Eloise says. “Mm. Mrs. Crabtree really is a wonderful cook.”
“We are quite lucky she and Mr. Crabtree put up with us,” Sophie smiles. “I have been told many, many times that I am not very good at acting like a lady.”
“We did not marry just for Mrs. Crabtree to march us around about propriety,” Benedict comments. “I do adore the woman, but this is where we get to be ourselves, without having to worry about what society thinks of us.”
“It must be wonderful not to have everyone in your business all the time,” Michaela says. “That is why I am so fond of the Highlands. I rarely run into any disapproving glances.”
“You rarely run into anyone at all,” Eloise jokes.
Francesca laughs a little. “That is part of the charm, I must say.”
Michaela smiles at her.
Benedict watches them. “Michaela, how were your travels?”
“Fine,” she responds. “Enjoyable. Mostly. It is good to be back…it is difficult to be at Kilmartin house sometimes…”
“I imagine it is,” Sophie says sympathetically. “Please, stay here however long you like.”
“Two weeks,” Benedict amends.
Sophie blinks at him. “Husband.”
“What? They cannot stay forever,” he laughs softly. “There is going to come a time where I will need to have you all to myself.”
Eloise looks disgusted. “Some people at this table are trying to eat.”
Francesca laughs softly. “I quite understand wanting time with your spouse. It is one of the reasons John and I skipped so many…so many…” she blows out a soft breath. “In any case. Two weeks is more than enough time for a good visit, brother.”
Eloise reaches out and takes her hand. “And mother would not allow more than that anyways. What with…wanting me to find a husband. And Francesca has been making noises about remarrying.”
Benedict frets, glancing at Michaela, who is suddenly quite interested in her empty plate. “Truly? Another husband?”
“Must you?” Benedict asks, still confused. He looks at Michaela again, who, again, meets no one’s eyes. “I suppose if that is what you…what you want…”
“It is,” Francesca insists.
“Al…right,” Benedict nods slowly.
“You doubt what I want?” Francesca asks.
“Of course not,” he says gently. “I merely-”
“I can make my own choices about these things,” she cuts him off. “I am more than capable.”
“Of course you are, it is only-”
“I do not need your opinion,” she finishes.
Benedict goes quiet and nods again. “Alright. A new husband for Fran it is.”
Michaela shakes her head, but says nothing.
Charlie babbles in his basket, and Sophie leans down, picking him up and bouncing him.
“There, there,” she coos softly. “All is well.”
“Any luck on a husband for you, El?” Benedict asks.
“Shut up,” Eloise tells him.
Benedict nods. “Right.”
*****
“What was that?” Sophie asks softly as she dresses for bed that night. “At dinner? With your sister?”
“That,” Benedict says slowly as he pulls his shirt off. “Was panic.”
“Over what?” Sophie asks, sitting at her dressing table and brushing out her hair.
“I…I have my suspicions,” Benedict tells her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I cannot say whether I am correct or not.”
“But…?”
Benedict shrugs. “Michaela leaves for nearly two years. She pops back up. Francesca brings her here, as if trying to ensure she does not leave under cover of darkness again. She then turns around and insists on finding a new husband.”
“Contradictory actions,” Sophie agrees.
“Mhm,” he nods. “One might even say a…a denial of affection.”
Sophie pauses her brushing for a moment, and turns to look at him.
He shrugs again and gives her a helpless grin. “I have been there before. It is something we must let her discover for herself.”
“So,” Sophie says slowly, taking his hand. “It may be a long two weeks?”
“LIkely,” Benedict tells her, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.
