Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Marie’s heart was in her throat. They left the ballroom behind, heading in the direction of the doors open to the darkness outside.
She did not attempt to pull away from his touch, determined to maintain composure, though she was grateful to no longer force her smile as they left the ballroom behind.
“This is entirely inappropriate, Mr. Shepherd,” she whispered through clenched teeth as they moved down the steps and farther into the gardens below.
“Not entirely,” he returned. “At least not for married couples.”
Giggles and gasps from nearby couples drifted toward her, but she could not see another soul. Could they see her being dragged by this man-child to who-knew-where?
“People will talk,” she tried again.
“About how we are married? Is that not what you wished for?”
He continued blazing forward, their crunching footsteps on the gravel pathway punctuating the still, night air. Soon, the hedges he pulled her toward grew so tall, only the starry sky was visible above. Fortunately, the light of the moon lit just enough of their pathway forward.
Charles’s broad shoulders shifted side to side as he pulled her deeper into the gardens until they reached a dark corner of the twisting shrubs.
There, Charles whirled around to face her, finally releasing his hold. The powdery scent of lilac on the breeze and the distant splashing of water marked the air, but Marie could not see anything beyond Charles’s fierce glower peering closely down at her.
“Why have you brought me out here?” she demanded, refusing to be intimidated by his actions.
“Are you frightened?”
“Not in the slightest,” she said. “I was merely wondering if I ought to prepare myself for you to make another scene like you did in the ballroom.”
Honestly, there had been no scene. She knew her smile had been enough to convince any observer that all was well between the newlyweds. She’d just been wanting to deliver another swipe at Charles.
The music from the ballroom drifted on the breeze toward them, and she fought the urge to flee toward the joy she’d felt before. The knowledge that Charles had been watching her, becoming jealous at her attention toward other men, had nourished her starving pride.
But now, she feared she may have taken a bite too large. Charles’s expression retained an unhinged look, the fury in his eyes visible in the light of the moon.
Marie truly wasn’t frightened of him. Even when he’d held her wrist, his grasp had been soft enough to allow her to get away if she’d truly tried.
She just hadn’t wanted to make a scene. And, furthermore, were Charles truly a violent man, he certainly would not have hesitated to throttle her by now.
Even still, she was uneasy because she didn’t know what to expect from him out here.
“I was not making a scene,” he stated. “I was—am—attempting to adjust to the idea of what my future holds now and what my present is. The events of today have rocked my stability past the point of logic.”
“Do you not think my own stability has been rocked?” she countered.
“You have had far longer than I to adjust to it.”
“Yes, but I have had far shorter a time to adapt to my discovery of marrying a child who resorts to throwing a fit when he does not get his way.”
“I am no child,” he said, stating each word carefully.
That was the word she’d used before to push him over the edge. Child. Dare she continue? Goading was no way to treat one’s husband.
“..as lifeless and dreary as her accomplishments...as much personality as a handkerchief.”
Fire burst within her. That answered that, then.
“Are you not a child?” she challenged.
She was pushing him, and even though she knew she was being childish herself, there was a fire and a passion in their conversation she’d never experienced herself—nor had she ever witnessed in anyone.
All of her frustrations were spilling forth upon him, kindling to his already raging fire, and with each new flame produced, she received a boost of satisfaction.
And blast it all, if she didn’t wish to stroke her morbid curiosity further to see just what he might say next.
She drew a step closer to him, giving in to her human failings. “Then what would you call storming out of a ballroom simply because you did not like the words coming from my lips?”
His eyes centered on her mouth, his broad chest rising and falling with angry breaths. “I had to leave before a true scene would be made. Some would call that self-control and compassion.”
“I would call it unable to be domesticated.”
His nostrils flared, and he took an abrupt step toward her. She did not flinch, merely lifting her chin to meet his gaze and whatever further vitriol he would let loose.
But nothing more came.
Instead, he closed his eyes, a line forming in the middle of his brow as he created more distance between them.
“This was your plan all along, was it not?” he asked. “To trick my parents into thinking you are amiable and accomplished so they would arrange for you to marry me.”
“Are you truly so prideful as to believe I wished to marry you so desperately?” she asked.
“No, of course not. Because any man would do for you, wouldn’t he?” His eyes found hers again. “You cared not who you’d wed, so long as your future was secured. So long as you could dupe unsuspecting parents like my own.”
Her heart twinged. She loved Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd—and that love had only grown in the last few months. Did Charles truly think her capable of taking advantage of their goodness?
“You do not know of what you speak,” she said.
“Do I not?” He drew toward her again until she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact.
“Then am I wrong to assume that you’ve orchestrated everything because you knew you could not get married without my parents’ approval, and you found my mother to be an easy target?
” He took another step closer. “How dare you use her? Are you truly so selfish, so deluded that you thought you’d get away with—”
Marie snapped. Hurt and anger surged through her so swiftly, it took control of her limbs, bringing her hand up to strike the words straight from Charles’s mouth.
Only he was too fast. He reached out with a firm grip around her wrist again, stopping her palm from contacting his cheek at the last moment.
He glowered down at her, his voice slower than before. “Is this how you wish our marriage to begin, madam?”
“Is this how you wish our marriage to begin?” she returned, motioning toward him with a shift of her chin.
They remained there for a moment, unmoving. A mere step separated them as his eyes delved into hers. Then his gaze dropped to her lips.
Marie’s heart stuttered as his brow flinched, and his own lips parted.
Fear sprung within her at the mere thought of what might occur, so she hardened her soul and raised her chin ever higher.
“Release me,” she whispered vehemently.
Charles hesitated, then did as he was told. Instantly, she backed away, holding her wrist to her chest and rubbing it as if he’d hurt her, though the burning sensation lingered due to his touch, rather than his grip.
He watched her actions for a moment, and she thought she saw a hint of regret in his eyes, but she didn’t care. Not anymore.
“I will say this one final time, Charles, for your benefit alone. No trickery nor deception was had on my part in this entire affair. I am a victim like you—if not more so. I was not desperate to marry, but I was anxious to please both of our parents, for I have come to love your mother and father as if they were my own. You may believe what you wish, but I will not speak to this matter again.”
He studied her. “How am I to know what to believe when you appear to change your personality every moment I see you?”
Marie squared her shoulders. “Why would I ever reveal to you who I truly am if you are simply to reject that version of me, too?”
His gaze dropped as he shifted his footing.
“I will return to the ball now,” she said calmly. “For I believe these dances will be the last enjoyment I will experience for the foreseeable future. I shall tell your parents you will be leaving early. You may rest assured, I will behave myself. Excuse me.”
She walked away, slightly on edge at the thought of him stopping her again, but he remained still. She moved beyond the lilac bushes, pretending to know her way around the hedges, though as the sound of the music from the ball grew softer, she hesitated.
Turning beyond another hedge, she came face-to-face with the fountain, which was in the opposite direction of the house. Concern welled within her. She shouldn’t have walked away alone—especially not in the darkness. She had no idea where she was going.
“I am staying.”
Charles’s words behind her caused her to jump, and she whirled around to face him.
“What do you mean by stalking up to me like that?” she said, raising a calming hand to her throat. “You scared me half to death.”
“My apologies,” he said. His tone was far less aggressive than before, but still not entirely sincere.
“Staying where?” she asked, referring to his words from before.
“At the ball.”
“Why?”
“Because it is my duty.”
She dropped her hand. “Now you’re concerned about your duty?”
He delivered a frustrated sigh. “Why must you say things to aggravate me just as I’ve managed to calm down?”
“Why must it take you so long to calm down?” she returned.
He looked away. “It typically does not. But today has set my life into upheaval.”
His tone fell, his demeanor shifting as he turned away from her and rubbed the back of his neck. “You made the wrong turn just there. Allow me to escort you safely back indoors.”
His voice was soft, his shoulders slightly hunched forward, and Marie couldn’t help but stare.
She’d done it. Her words had finally broken through his tough exterior.
She ought to celebrate, really. Smile haughtily as they returned to the ballroom and tout her winnings by dancing with every other handsome man in the room.