Chapter 10 #2
He forged ahead, leaving Marie to walk two steps to his one as she attempted to keep up with him, though her thoughts were still back by the fountain, lingering on the kiss they’d shared—and the ominous foreboding he’d just delivered again.
The rest of the evening was unbearable. Charles attempted to offer Marie his hand as they entered the carriage in the quiet darkness, void of any prying eyes aside from the averted gazes of their family footman and groom.
True to form, Marie walked straight past Charles’s extended fingers. She tripped on the step, grunted, then shoved his hand away as he tried to help her again.
“You really are that stubborn?” he asked.
“Yes.”
When she finally entered the carriage, clambering across her wet skirts, Charles followed in after her, making a point to sit on the opposite side.
As the carriage rolled forward and the air between them filled with silence, Marie shivered, though he could see her desperate attempts to hide it. Her skirts still clung to her legs all the way to her thighs, and she attempted to unstick the fabric discreetly with her fingertips.
She must have been as aware as he was how translucent the material had become.
Reaching behind him, he pulled out the blanket Mother always brought along with her to late-night parties and balls, tossing it to the seat beside Marie.
“That is my mother’s,” he clarified. “I know you would not accept it if it were mine.”
She glowered at him, then pulled the blanket across her body. He nearly sighed in relief at no longer having to fight his wayward eyes.
“How are your parents to get home if we take the carriage now?” she asked, eying the dark brown cover across her lap.
He’d already sent a footman to deliver the message to them both that he and Marie would be headed home early.
No doubt Mother and Father would assume his return to Grendale with Marie was for one specific reason, but they would have a rude awakening when they discovered what exactly Charles had in mind for his future with Marie.
“Mr. Lloyd will return to the ball upon delivering us to Grendale,” he replied.
She didn’t respond, shivering once again, though this time with smaller movements.
She stared out of the window, and Charles took a moment to observe her in the dim light the carriage lantern outside allotted.
Her skin was pale, her curls mere strings of black, and her shoulders were slightly slumped forward.
But her lips were still curved in a lilting manner, and her eyebrows as dark and striking as ever.
The woman was stunning, even after all that had occurred tonight.
Another shiver racked her body, and a wave of guilt overcame him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
She turned toward him, her eyes condemning.
“For what? Dragging me away from a perfectly fine ball and shouting at me? Or because you caused me to fall into the water? Or do you apologize for calling me lifeless and accusing me of mistreating your parents and orchestrating this marriage because I could not find a husband of my own?”
Charles winced. Laid out like that, he sounded rather like a cad.
He supposed he was a cad. He also sounded mad now that he thought about it.
What sort of woman would orchestrate all that had occurred today?
Especially if what she’d said had been true—that he was the last man she’d ever wanted to marry.
She was far easier to hate when he thought her capable of such trickery. For when he thought of her as a woman in the same position as himself—forced by well-intentioned parents to give up the rest of their futures—she became far too relatable, and that made his guilt paramount.
He really had put his foot in his mouth far too many times today. Rowan, his Shakespeare-loving friend, would tell him to put forth more effort, or script some form of eloquent confession.
But that wasn’t Charles.
“Can my apology be for all of that?” he asked.
She stared at him. “No.”
He looked away with a frustrated sigh. He’d apologized thrice now, and still, Marie refused to accept his regret. Granted, his words had held a distinct defensive tone, but did he not receive credit for trying?
It was just as well she didn’t forgive him, though. He hardly needed it with what he was planning for their future.
The rest of the journey home was met with silence, though Charles continued to monitor Marie’s shivering until they pulled into Grendale Manor’s drive.
He followed behind her in silence as they made their way to their bedchambers. Charles would have forgone following her feminine figure entirely by heading to the drawing room first, were he not desperate to change out of his own clothes.
When they reached their adjoining rooms—her door first—she stopped abruptly and spoke over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Shepherd.”
Then she promptly entered her room and closed the door firmly behind her.
Charles shook his head with a scoff at her obvious rejection. Little did she know that the very idea of spending a moment longer with her would be akin to torture. Most of that was due to the fact that he could not extricate her kiss from his mind.
He strode to his room next, closing the door behind him, not waiting for his valet to strip off his sopping wet cravat and waistcoat.
He set them near the wardrobe just as the distinct sound of a lock echoed around his room. He eyed the door adjoined to Marie’s, knowing full-well she’d secured the lock from her bedchamber on purpose.
Despite himself, Charles released a soft chuckle. He didn’t think Marie believed that he would attempt to enter her room. Rather, he knew she’d locked the door on purpose—another way to say, “I do not forgive you, Charles, and I never will.”
He shook his head and moved to stare out of the window, eying the stars through the glass as he peeled off his shirtsleeves next.
He and Marie had been volatile today. There was no chance the two of them could survive a marriage together. They’d drive each other mad, and he had no desire to add “Be Sent to a Madhouse” on his list of adventures to accomplish this year.
Divorce wasn’t an option—not without injuring Marie’s reputation. And as much as he did not like the woman, he stood by his decision earlier. He would not harm her future.
After their conversation in the gardens that evening, however, with Marie’s admission that she hadn’t wanted to marry him either, it was obvious that something needed to be done.
He knew very little about annulments, but that had to be their clearest pathway forward. An annulment, time away from Society, and a proper bribe to her father would do the trick.
All he needed to do was convince his new bride—on their bridal tour, no less—to follow along with his plan.
He had little doubt that she would take any convincing at all. After all, she despised him as much as he despised her.
It was just a shame she kissed so well.