Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“The grounds are quite lovely,” Emilie tittered, waving her hand widely to gesture out toward the sea.
Archer was walking beside her, just as he’d been for nearly the past twenty minutes.
Already, they had explored the hedge maze and the rose garden. The entire time she had been talking nonstop, making her voice as high as she possibly could in an effort to grate on Archer’s nerves.
Emilie had been certain when she’d extended the invitation for a walk that he would turn her down. And she’d barely been able to conceal her shock when he’d said that a walk sounded like a good idea.
Even then, Emilie had been certain that he would grow tired of her after only a few minutes. She’d had a plan to ensure that was exactly how it played out.
But now, twenty minutes later, Archer was showing no sign of tiring of her. In fact, the more she blathered on about whatever absolute nonsense her brain was grasping at, the more amused he seemed to be.
“Aye, they’ve been lovely all me life,” Archer grunted, once again giving Emilie barely any response at all.
He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, her husband. He seemed to prefer to respond in one-syllable words or just a single grunt to show that he was still listening.
And yet, he did not tire of her idiotic prattling?
“The soil seems good for plantin’,” Emilie continued, her eyes roving wildly as her mind scrambled to come up with the next topic.
I have to make him tired of me, but how?
Emilie searched her mind as Archer gave another grunt of acknowledgment.
What all had she learned about her husband so far?
The truth was, she hadn’t learned much at all. Avoiding him for the last few days had set her back in more ways than one.
Because not only had Emilie now missed out on an untold number of opportunities to move forward with her plan, but she’d missed out on opportunities to learn how to annoy him even faster.
And she needed to act quickly. She’d realized it while she was on the picnic blanket, with the twins staring up at her as she read. She was getting attached to them.
Too attached to them.
Attached enough that when she got her annulment and left Castle McGregor, she would genuinely miss them.
Emilie had not anticipated that. She liked children, loved them even. With the cold greeting that Aurora had given her and the fact that Emilie had felt certain she’d be back at the abbey in less than a week, she didn’t think she would have time to actually care for the children.
But now she did. And that was a dangerous position to be in.
I need to focus, she reminded herself. What can I say that will make him think I’m stupid? How can I make him think I’m so stupid, that he doesnae want to be married to me anymore?
The idea struck her quickly. She’d just given herself a perfect setup, with a comment on the soil.
“Take the abbey, for instance,” she prattled on with a newfound vigor.
Her voice cracked a bit. It was becoming strained with the fake, high-pitched voice that she was putting on. But that did not slow her.
“Most of the time, it was dreadfully borin’,” she continued. “And the soil there, it wouldnae grow a single thing! At least, nae anythin’ pretty. It seemed to grow crops just fine. But flowers?”
She waved her hand dismissively in front of her face, forcing herself to giggle. It was something she’d seen some of the other novices do when the delivery men arrived at the abbey.
At the time, Emilie had thought that it had made them look silly. But she drew inspiration from them now, keeping her abbey sisters close to her heart as she blathered on.
“Me only real duty aside from cookin’ was to tend to the nuns’ garden,” she explained, giving her voice an airy quality that she’d heard Laura talk with once.
“Their favorite flowers have always been dahlias, ye ken. They’d go on and on when they came back from the market, talkin’ about how the flower monger had beautiful, bright blooms. And year after year, I’d try to plant them.
And I couldnae get a single thing to grow! ”
Emilie looked around airily, pretending as if she were imagining all the dahlias she could grow on the very soil beneath her feet.
It was all a farce. A beautifully plucked one.
Dahlias wouldn’t grow in Scotland. She wasn’t sure why, as she’d never bothered to ask. But she knew that they refused to grow here.
It was the reason why she had never actually tried to plant the bloom for the older nuns. Because she had known that no matter how hard she tried, the flowers would never sprout.
She was thankful for it now. At this little bit of information that she could weave into her lies.
“Ye tried to plant dahlias?” he asked, the first true reply she had gotten for him since they’d begun the walk.
She smiled up at him dolefully, allowing her eyes to glaze over as she did so.
“Well, of course I did,” she chimed. “They’re such lovely blooms. I tried every single year but would end up with nothin’ more than a patch of dry dirt. The chickens loved it, though.”
Archer glanced sidelong at her.
They had rounded one of the westernmost sides of the castle, placing the sea firmly at their back. Emilie hadn’t yet ventured this way. In fact, the West wing of Castle McGregor was the one part of the castle that she hadn’t really seen at all.
There was a big stone courtyard. One that looked as if it was setting up for training and archery.
A large, brick ring was in the corner, a patch of it looking much newer than the rest of it.
She tried her very best not to let her curiosity get the better of her. Emilie wanted to be able to explore the castle a little more.
Growing up in the abbey, she had known every single corner of the place as well as she knew the back of her own hand. And it would be much the same when she returned.
But here? At Castle McGregor? Everything was new and fresh and exciting. And Emilie wanted to be able to take the opportunity to nurture that curiosity while she still could.
But she couldn’t do that right this moment. Not with Archer standing beside her, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
Not when her plan was starting to look like it might be working.
“Ye allowed chickens into yer flower gardens?” he asked, an air of disbelief in his voice this time.
“Of course! They loved explorin’ out there,” Emilie answered quickly. “Although they picked the flowers to death. Even me tryin’ to teach them to sing dinnae keep ‘em busy enough to leave the flowers alone.”
Emilie had no idea where that part of the story had come from. Teaching the chickens to sing?
It was absolutely absurd. And yet, it had made Archer stop walking entirely.
He was staring at her; his mouth parted slightly in surprise as he stared at her. Disbelief was etched into every line of his face, and it took everything within her not to let her mouth tug up into a smile of victory.
“Did ye just say ye were tryin’ to teach chickens to sing?”
It worked. He thinks I’m stupid.
Emilie just grinned at her husband, trying to make sure her face did not change from the carefully constructed mask she had arranged her features into.
I’m so close. So deliciously close to him thinkin’ I am too stupid to help be a maither to his children. If I’m goin’ to commit to this, I have to commit to this fully.
“Oh, aye,” Emilie said, forcing her eyes to go wide as she nodded up at him. “They liked to squawk at each other all the time, because they’re chickens, ye ken. But one day I thought to meself, I wonder if they’d like to sing. So, I started tryin’ to teach them.”
With a stroke of inspiration, Emilie looped her arm through Archer’s. The moment she touched him, warmth spread through her.
She ignored it, pushing her desire as deep within her as she possibly could.
There was no time for that now. Not when she was so close to making her plan work.
“I would go out there every mornin’ to feed ‘em,” she continued. Her voice was coming out a bit raspier now. And her throat was beginning to hurt. But Emilie did not let up.
“And I would squawk at them in their own language first. I tried to turn it into a melody. And when they would start to squawk back, I would start to sing. I thought a few of them were startin’ to catch on. But then we got married. I sure do hope Laura is keepin’ up with their singin’ lessons.”
She tugged on Archer’s arm, spurring him into motion, and they continued through the stone training courtyard. She could feel his gaze on her face, could see from the corner of her eye that her husband was staring at her sidelong.
“Ye hope the other nuns kept up with the singin’ lessons? For chickens?”
The tone of his voice said everything that Emilie needed to hear. He thought she was stupid. He well and truly thought that there was no brain inside her head.
He is goin’ to ask for an annulment any day now.
It took every ounce of willpower that Emilie had not to smirk at the sign of her victory.