Chapter 11 #2
He felt now that his wife was trying to bring this side out in him. That she was trying to upset him purposefully. Why she wished for such a thing...again, he assumed it was because she was trying to force his hand. This or a baby. This or admitting defeat.
Hudson took a deep breath and forced calm. He would not let her get to him.
“I assure you, it is nowhere near as bad as it looks,” she continued when she saw that he was not going to respond as she likely expected. “There really is no need to get upset.”
“Who said that I was upset?”
“I suppose all the shouting and arm waving just confused me.” A curt smile from her. “Now that you are here, I do wonder what you think.” She opened her arms and gestured to the construction site. “It will make a fine addition to the garden, no?”
“An unnecessary one,” Hudson responded, keeping his cool. “You are aware that my great-grandfather designed this garden’s original motif and layout. It has been a part of this estate for generations.”
“Did he?” She tilted her head curiously. “I had no idea. Although how could I?”
“You might have asked.”
“And when might have I done that, I wonder.”
He grimaced at the response; the point she was trying to make so very clear. She was baiting him. He knew that she was. But he would not be baited!
“I am not even certain what I am looking at,” Hudson pivoted the conversation. “Apart from needless destruction and chaos.”
“Oh.” She clapped her hands together and her eyes sparkled. “It shall be an orangery. The thought occurred to me last week, that this estate does not have one. And I have always wondered if I might try my hand at horticulture—I feel as if I might have a knack for it.”
“As you have a knack for interior design? And horse rearing?”
“Those are hobbies.”
“What is the difference?”
“How adept I am at them,” she responded with a smirk. “But this is different. Construction will be finished within the week, and once it is, I daresay I shall have found my calling.”
“And if you are not the natural horticulturist that you imagine?”
She shrugged. “Then I suppose it will be onto the next thing.”
“Which is…”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Whatever I feel like.”
This was a delicate situation, and Hudson was more than aware of it.
On the one hand, he thought to simply leave her to it and not get involved.
This was partly his fault, and if the worst that should occur from his rejection of her desires to have a child was that she spent his money with abject freedom and without consequences, then so be it.
At least that would see them avoid another fight.
On the other hand, Hudson did not think it right for him to back down and let her have her way. She was throwing a tantrum, rebelling because she did not get her way. If he allowed it, it would set a precedent from which there would be no coming back.
He needed to put his foot down. Hopefully, for the last time.
“I know what it is that you are doing,” Hudson began calmly.
“Oh? Pray do tell, what am I doing?”
He scoffed. “The constant spending. The purposeful upending of my home. The eye toward frustrating me until I finally break. It is obvious…” He crossed his arms and looked at her. She did the same back, daring him to make his point. “You are trying to force my hand.”
“Force your hand?” She frowned. “Whatever for?”
“Oh, please…” He chuckled. “Do not play pretend. We both know what this is.”
“Are you going to speak to the point or are you going to continue to dance around it?” She laughed to herself. “Although seeing as I have seen you dance, I do suggest that you hurry, lest you trip and hurt yourself.”
His face dropped, as did his patience. “This will not work. I do not know how you were convinced of this ill-advised plan—what madness saw you take this path. But if you think that you can annoy me into having a child with you, I am afraid that you have been wasting your time.”
“Annoy you into having a child…” She leaned back, her face scrunched into a ball of confusion. “Is that what…oh my, God,” she scoffed. “Is that what you think I am doing? The reason for all of this?”
“Well…” Hudson hesitated. “Are you not?”
“No!”
“Then why?” he blustered, unsure if she was joking or not. “Tell me, why all the spending? All the activity? What end could this possibly achieve?”
“You really have no idea, do you?” She shook her head at him.
Not angry. Not even upset. More the way a parent looks at a child who has done wrong but can’t figure out the reason.
“You have been so darn preoccupied with whatever it is you’ve been doing this last month that you have not stopped to wonder at what I have been doing. ”
“I know too well what you have been doing.”
“Because I have no choice!” she cried out.
“That is the reason. Seeing as you want nothing to do with me—and no, I am not just referring to having a child. When I say nothing, I mean nothing. It is all too clear to me, dear husband, that you wish I did not exist, and the way you have ignored me seems to have convinced you that I do not. Thus, with little real choice, I am forced to take matters into my own hand and find entertainment through whatever means I can. That is why I am doing this. To save myself from dying of boredom!”
“Oh…” Hudson blinked, struck speechless by the verbal onslaught. “That is…unfortunate.”
He had no idea what to say. Or what he could say. Had a man ever been so wrong in his entire life? Had a man ever been so guilty? So conceited? So unaware? Most likely they had, but surely this was a contender for the top spot?
Hudson was aware of the way he had been treating his wife this past month, going out of his way not to see her and such.
What he had failed to consider was how she might feel about it.
Truly, after their fight, he had just assumed that she would want nothing to do with him—that she would be grateful that he was avoiding her. He really could be clueless sometimes.
It was not an excuse. And it did not justify his actions. But it was not malicious either. And where Florentia clearly thought otherwise, Hudson suddenly felt pangs of guilt because although he did not love her, he did not relish the idea of upsetting her either. He was not a monster.
“Unfortunate?” she spat. “That is not the word I would—”
“I am sorry,” Hudson said quickly. “For everything, this past month especially, I am sorry.”
She balked. “Excuse me?”
He grimaced. “Please, do not think I was avoiding you on purpose, Your Grace. And do not think I have taken pleasure in any of this. It is just that…” He looked away, suddenly unsure. “You may have noticed that I am not exactly a social butterfly.”
“That is understating it,” she snorted.
“And I often forget or don’t consider how my actions might affect others,” he pressed on. “Nothing I have done this last month is personal, I promise you that. And if you hate me for it, well…” He laughed awkwardly. “I suppose I have that coming.”
He expected her to double down on her anger.
He expected her to push for the advantage—it was what he would have done.
He expected mockery. Insults. More hostility, because surely she would not let him off so easily?
What he got instead was sympathy. The last thing he deserved, and yet another indication that he did not know his wife nearly as well as he ought.
“It is fine,” she sighed, her tone and expression softening. “And I suppose that some of the blame should lie at my feet also.”
“It should…?” He frowned.
“It is not as if I have tried to bridge the gap between us either.” She laughed. “The truth is, I have gone out of my way to avoid you too. And maybe…” she grinned, “…just a little bit of this spending was designed to annoy you.”
“Only a little?”
“You know, it does not have to be this way,” she continued, her voice cracking with what sounded like nervousness. But she looked hopeful, even excited. “You and I, I mean. We do not have to hate one another.”
“I do not hate you,” Hudson said. “Your Grace, I hope you know that at least. I could never…”
“Nor do I you,” she said. “Which is why I think we need to start again. At the very least, I believe that if we are to live together as we are. Married…” She shook her head as if she still did not believe it. “That we might be friends. Surely that is not too much to hope?”
“Friends…” Hudson said the word as if he had never heard it before. But as he spoke it, his stomach flipped with what felt like…is that excitement? “Yes, I think I would like that very much.”
“Wonderful,” she beamed.
“So…” Hudson clicked his tongue. “How shall we begin?”
She laughed. “You really are not very good at this, are you?”
“What gave it away?”
“Supper, tonight,” she said. “Let us start there. And if we can get through it without wanting to tear one another’s throat out, well…” She laughed and shook her head at the silliness. “Maybe there is hope for us after all.”
“Supper…” Hudson nodded along, liking the sound of it. “I think I can accommodate that.”
It was such a small thing, but to Hudson, it felt huge. He did not enjoy avoiding his wife. He did not enjoy fighting with her. And if this might lead to a companionship, someone whom he could speak with openly and honestly in ways that he only could with Elias, then all the better.
It was still just a marriage of convenience, he reminded himself, but hopefully one that would be well-founded by the time the evening was through. It would be about damn time. Dammit, Hudson might have even gone so far as to say that he was looking forward to it. A rare thing indeed.