Chapter 16 #2
While I’m grateful you and your new husband are bonding, I cannot help but relay instruction in regard to the proper decorum of a married individual.
One must learn to control one’s appetites—especially in Society—and remember that one’s duty is first to one’s host before accomplishing the equally important duty of bearing children, which you and Charles are clearly pursuing.
At any rate, I trust you are doing well enough now. We are fine here. Mother is redecorating—
“Marie?”
Marie looked up from the letter, her face aflame as her fingers clenched the paper. Charles watched her, his brow together.
“Are you unwell?” he asked.
“No, I’m...fine.”
His eyes dropped to the letter. “Then is someone else unwell?”
He must have seen her frowning as she’d read over Father’s preposterous assumptions. Honestly, the nerve he had to assume they’d left the ball early to...
“No,” she replied, scowling down at the writing once more.
Charles took the seat across from her, pulling it closer so he could meet her eye, but Marie averted her gaze. Father’s words were far too humiliating for her to look into Charles’s eyes at the moment.
“What is it?” he asked gently.
Marie hid the letter’s contents from him.
“You can tell me anything, Marie. We are husband and wife, after all.”
Her cheeks pinked further, and she pressed her lips together. She was so ashamed. So...so humiliated. She couldn’t share the letter with Charles. He’d tease her mercilessly and bring it up whenever he could.
“Ah, yes. Poor, indecorous Marie. Unable to remain at a ball because she could not keep herself from her husband.”
And yet, Father’s words branded themselves upon her soul, inadvertently lighting a fire of indignation within her that could not be quenched. She may be scorched with the teasing if she released the flames, but at least she wouldn’t be burned alive from the inside out.
“It is just that...” She paused, shaking her head. She could not even speak the words. “Here. You may read it. The first few paragraphs.”
Charles took the letter, leaning forward to read the words. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, heat crawling up her body as she imagined Charles’s flirtatious grin and mocking laughter.
To her surprise, all he did was frown.
“Your father will soon learn where his opinion is welcome”—he handed the letter back to her—“and where it is unwarranted.”
Marie stared at him in shock. “Are you angry?”
He appeared exactly as he had when he’d first met with Father on their wedding day—with scowl lines and rigid lips.
“Yes, to be frank, I am. Does he truly believe it is within his right to correct such things—even if they were true?” He stood, pacing about the room, his hands fisted at his sides as he continued.
“It’s ridiculous. You deserve better treatment than that, Marie. ”
If Marie was shocked before, she was utterly astonished now. He was angry for her sake? She’d assumed he was upset due to Father’s insinuation of Charles.
“Perhaps I should not have given you the letter,” she breathed.
“No, I’m grateful you did. I should not respond with such volatility. But his poor assumption of your good character is...” He broke off with a gruff sigh. “A father should treat his daughter better than this. He should assume the very best of her.”
Marie’s mind raced. “It is fine. I am used to such words, really. If he didn’t believe me capable of finding my own husband, of course he’d think me incapable of...bridling my actions.”
Charles stopped his pacing. “You are used to such words?” he repeated. He shook his head, running his hand against his jawline. “The nerve of the man.”
Marie loved Father, though she had always thought him to be far too opinionated and a degree too controlling.
Still, she did not wish for Charles to lose any sleep over the man.
“Really, I’m quite well,” she pressed. “I was merely frustrated, that is all.” She added with a mumble, “And embarrassed.”
Charles eyed her warily, then he sighed, his great shoulders slumping forward. Slowly, he walked toward her, sitting across from her seat and taking both of her hands in his as his dark eyes bore into hers.
“Promise me, Marie,” he began. His rumbling voice reverberated from where his fingers grasped hers straight to her heart thumping against her chest. “Promise me that you will not spend one more moment fretting over your father’s shameful dishonoring of you.
You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.
My mother and father gave our excuses to the host of the ball, so there was no shame extended toward your parents for our leaving early.
This is just your father’s way to keep you under his thumb.
You do not deserve to be scolded. You deserve to be praised for the noble way you carried yourself through our wedding day—despite everything I put you through.
You are a good and honorable woman. Do not let anyone ever convince you otherwise. ”
Tears sprang to Marie’s eyes. She’d been hoping for a bit of understanding, perhaps a pebble of compassion. This staunch defense of who she was as a person was the last thing she’d expected—and the very thing she’d needed.
She blinked several times, attempting to swallow the discomfort in her throat at her welling emotion.
He maintained his look, though his voice softened. “And you needn’t stop yourself from crying. Tears are the purest form of emotion when produced from the heart.”
A tear fled her eyes, and before she could flick it away, Charles reached forward with his thumb and gently brushed her cheek until the moisture was gone.
Their eyes met, and Marie’s breath caught in her throat. “Thank you, Charles,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond for a moment, his gaze lingering on her lips before he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “The nerve of the man,” he mumbled under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. “If I ever...”
He stopped, shaking his head and looking at Marie with a deep, settling breath. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a quick walk around the cottage? I find being out of doors helps settle my instability. The sun is still shining, and we do not have to be gone for long. I should like—”
“Yes,” Marie said at once. “I would be happy to.”
The instant lowering of Charles’s shoulders and softening of his brow told Marie everything she needed to know.
She’d made the right decision this time, and she would not regret it.