Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Marie didn’t sleep well that night, nor did she wish to wake up when she finally received rest that morning.
She was roused from a deep slumber long after the sun had risen to a soft knocking upon her door.
She ignored it for a moment, but when the sound persisted, she blinked as she looked around her, slightly disoriented until she caught sight of the stockings draped over a nearby chair.
They were nearly dry after her night in the fountain with her husband—something that sounded far more romantic than it actually had been. Especially considering said husband sounded very much like he was attempting to end their marriage prematurely.
“Ma’am?”
The soft voice came from the door after another knock, and finally, Marie extracted herself from her bed to answer.
“My apologies, Jane,” Marie said as she allowed her lady’s maid into the room. “I forgot I locked my door last night after you’d left.”
She’d done so loud enough for Charles to hear again—or so she hoped.
“Not to worry, ma’am,” Jane replied. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we’re scheduled to leave in just under an hour. Mr. Charles Shepherd has requested an eleven o’clock departure.”
Marie sighed. There she was again, being dictated by the man. Unless...
A slow smile spread across her lips, and without a word, she scribbled a note to Charles.
My dearest husband,
I understand that you would like to depart at eleven o’clock. I regret to inform you that I shall need at least a few hours more to prepare for our journey.
You see, I did not sleep very well last night and am quite afraid I am coming down with a cold due to the occurrences of the evening. In fact, we may need to request the presence of a doctor here to ensure I am well. A professional opinion is always best, as you well know.
At any rate, physician or not, I cannot see myself being able to leave until two o’clock at the earliest.
I do apologize for the inconvenience this may cause. But you understand.
Yours,
Marie
There. That should buy her an hour or two.
Marie folded the correspondence, then beckoned Jane to deliver it, all the while smiling to herself at the knowledge of how the letter would be received.
After breakfast, which she took in her room, and a very slow start to the morning, reading a few chapters of her latest book she had never before been interested in and brushing her hair at least a few hundred times—which she had also never done before—Marie finally felt motivated enough to dress, so she called for Jane to return to her chambers.
Jane came and brought with her Charles’s response.
To my perfect wife,
How terribly sorry I am to hear that you have caught cold after your antics last evening. Although, I must say, that does not surprise me, what with your obviously weak constitution.
That being said, two o’clock will suit my schedule perfectly.
As thrilled as I am at the prospect of spending the next fortnight with you, I am more than happy to wait until you are well enough to travel.
In fact, why do we not push the time even further?
What would you say to postponing the bridal tour indefinitely?
My mother will wonder, of course, at our hesitance to proceed with the tour, but I suppose she will overcome whatever disappointment she may feel.
As for calling for a physician, I’d hate to worry my mother unnecessarily. Perhaps we ought to wait to see if you will be miraculously healed of your ailments on your own.
Do keep me updated.
Your anxious husband,
Charles
Marie frowned. It was almost as if he’d expected her to push back on their departure time. Did he already know her so well? Well, he wouldn’t expect what she had to say next.
To my charming husband,
Your thoughtfulness knows no bounds—and your ability to manifest the future. As it so happens, I have been miraculously healed and will be ready to leave within an hour. I would not wish to make you wait a moment longer without me.
I know how much you love our time together.
Do tell your mother of our plan to still leave. If she wishes to know why there has been back-and-forth, perhaps you might simply explain what you did last night. She will understand perfectly then, I am certain.
Your Just-As-Equally-Thoughtful Wife,
Marie
PS. Have you any requests as to which personality you would prefer for the trip and fortnight ahead? I am happy to assume whichever you prefer. Although, I do promise to not behave like a handkerchief again. Unless, of course, you are in need of me when you sneeze.
With another satisfied smile, she bade Jane once more to deliver the note, then awaited her return.
Over the next half hour, the two of them worked together to ensure Marie was dressed and ready for their departure. With two minutes to spare, she left her room behind, only to find Mrs. Shepherd walking toward her down the otherwise empty corridor.
“I came to deliver this,” Mrs. Shepherd said with a warm smile. “It is from my son. No doubt a love note of some sort.”
Marie highly doubted that was what the letter held, still she accepted it with a smile.
They moved down the corridor together. Half a dozen portraits decorated the walls, each filled with various paintings of horses, dogs, and hunting parties.
“How are you faring, my dear?” Mrs. Shepherd asked. “We missed your presence throughout the rest of the ball last night, but I gather it was for good reason?”
Marie could hardly crush her spirits. “Your son and I had a very interesting...conversation.”
Mrs. Shepherd’s features fell, but she hid them swiftly with a smile.
“Well, I do hope you enjoy yourselves over the coming weeks. My bridal tour with Mr. Shepherd was the best thing for our marriage. And...do be patient with Charles. I know he can be quite a difficult person to be around at times, but once a person breaks down his rather crusted exterior, there is no one who will love you more fully.”
Marie nodded, unable to even concoct a word.
Mrs. Shepherd was putting far too much stock in her son’s abilities to be a good person.
“I will meet you downstairs,” Mrs. Shepherd said. “I must fetch Mr. Shepherd’s walking stick.”
Marie nodded, waiting until Mrs. Shepherd was out of sight before ripping open the burning letter in her hands.
Dearest Darling Marie,
Thank you for the opportunity to choose my own wife for the day. I believe I have seen enough of each and would prefer now to witness the amiable woman I was promised by my mother from the beginning—as I have yet to see her.
Your Patient Husband,
Charles
PS. I, myself, shall remain as I have always been—honorable, respectful, and ever-doting.
Marie scoffed in disgust, shaking her head and tearing the paper in two before sliding the pieces into her reticule. No wonder he’d delivered it at the last moment. He must have known it would allow him to get the final word in.
She had a mind to show the correspondence to Mrs. Shepherd.
Charles would be sure to receive the scolding of the century.
But she didn’t wish for the woman to worry any further about Marie’s relationship with Charles.
At any rate, there was no guarantee Mrs. Shepherd would recognize the satire within their letters anyway. She certainly hadn’t before.
Marie hadn’t either, but now that she knew the man, his personality was obvious. He couldn’t be counted on for seriousness to any degree.
She arrived in the entryway a moment later, walking toward the open doorway. Her thoughts were preoccupied with how to respond to Charles when his voice drifted toward her from where the two carriages lined the drive.
He spoke with another man who boasted a large mustache and thin build, the two of them appearing deep in conversation. She could not catch a word, their heads slightly ducked in a conspiratorial manner.
The gentleman caught her eye first, and he straightened. Charles glanced over his shoulder and smiled with a self-satisfied air, then turned back to the gentleman with a single nod.
The gentleman departed, and Charles faced her.
Marie narrowed her eyes at his impassive expression. His words from the night before slid into her memory.
“There may not be much more of a marriage to experience anyway.”
She hadn’t the faintest notion how he would obtain a divorce or an annulment, but she would not put such an action past someone like Childish Charlie—a man who would clearly stop at nothing to get his own way.
His parents certainly wouldn’t be happy. Father would be livid. And Marie? Marie would be ruined, but at least she would not be forced to be with someone who loathed her.
“There you are,” Charles said as she walked down the steps toward him and the already-loaded carriages. “I see you are feeling better.”
“Your palpable concern has appeared to revive me.”
Before another word could be shared, the Shepherds appeared behind her, and goodbyes were exchanged. Shortly after, Marie and Charles were escorted off the premises in their carriage—the help following behind in a coach of their own.
Charles didn’t speak across from her, and the pleasant expression on his features did nothing to settle her nerves, nor did his constant fidgeting. He tapped his fingers against his leg and persistently shifted in his seat.
After the thirteenth time of Charles tapping out some absentminded tune, Marie couldn’t bear it any longer. She turned to face him directly with a pointed look.
“Do you ever hold still?”
He finally settled, his jawline highlighted as it poked out from his high collar and cravat. “Is my movement upsetting you?”
“It is rather distracting, that is all.”
“My apologies. I would never wish to upset my wife.”
He smirked at the word, then instantly resumed his movements. This time, he bounced his leg up and down so greatly, he proved to rattle the carriage more fully than the bumpy road beneath them.
She stifled a sigh, ignoring him for as long as possible before catching his growing smile.