Chapter 10 #3
“I know how our marriage came to be,” Euphemia said, trying to reason with his back.
“I understand the expectations. I know we agreed to a cordial, practical arrangement, and I have no intention of overstepping our boundaries. However, I am merely thinking logically. It is important that we cross off the necessary milestones of marriage, since it is a crucial element. I simply do not want it to look like we failed to pay attention to what should have been done, especially since every text implies it is a mandatory part of the honeymoon phase.”
Nathaniel slowly turned around. His eyes were still remarkably wide, and he looked at her with a mix of utter disbelief and mounting panic.
“You are asking me if we... if we made love?” he asked with both hands on his waist.
“Yes,” Euphemia replied plainly, nodding her head. “That is precisely what I am asking.”
Nathaniel inhaled very sharply, the sound catching loudly in his throat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up at the ceiling as if praying for strength. “Euphemia, this should be a conversation you should have had with perhaps your mother.”
Euphemia’s expression softened. “Well, I did not grow up with a mother, so I wouldn’t know to ask her.”
Nathaniel lowered his hand, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. “Well, who did you grow up with then? Who raised you?”
“With Lady Byron,” she explained simply. “We talked of many things. We talked of history, philosophy, and books. But we never once talked about the mechanics of marriage. No one ever told me about it.”
Nathaniel stared at her, a look of profound realization dawning on his face. “That is utterly ridiculous. It is entirely negligent that you did not have that talk about marriage before entering into a union.”
“Well, we are both here now,” Euphemia pointed out, taking a step closer, entirely earnest. “We can just have the conversation now.”
“No. No, we cannot,” Nathaniel said quickly, his hands coming up as if to physically ward off the topic.
“I am in absolutely no position to tell you anything about marriage, or about... about making love.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing a dark, uncharacteristic crimson.
“In fact, I feel entirely... I feel a certain way that you are even standing here asking me about it.”
“Why?” Euphemia asked, her brow furrowing. “We are married, after all, regardless of the circumstance, and from what I understand, we are the ones who are supposed to be doing the making of love.”
“Euphemia, please stop saying those words,” Nathaniel groaned, looking thoroughly defeated.
Euphemia stood her ground, utterly confused.
She couldn’t understand what she had possibly done to get him so incredibly upset.
It was a simple inquiry about marital protocol.
“What is so deep and secretive about this that you refuse to tell me? Is it something that needs to happen only if two people are deeply in love with each other? Is that the missing variable? Does it just happen naturally when two people are in love?”
Nathaniel closed his eyes for a long moment, letting out a breath that sounded like a surrender. When he opened them, he looked at her with squinted eyes.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Yes, Euphemia. It only happens when two people are in love, and since we are not in love with each other, it is not a question that is suitable for the both of us.”
Euphemia swallowed hard, processing his words. It felt like a missing piece of a puzzle finally clicking into place, even if it left a strange, hollow sensation in her chest. “All right,” she murmured, nodding slowly. “That makes a lot of sense.”
Nathaniel let out a sharp, breathless laugh, staring at her in utter disbelief again. “Does it? Does it really make sense to you? You are telling me that what I just said makes perfect sense?”
Euphemia took a step forward, her confusion turning into slight frustration. “I don’t know why you are so upset about my question! I am only trying to understand.”
“I am not upset,” Nathaniel snapped defensively, though his tense posture completely contradicted his words. He paused, looking at her face, and seemed to realize that arguing further would only lead him deeper into a conversational minefield.
“Good day, Euphemia,” he said stiffly, gripping the doorknob. “I will see you later at dinner.”
“All right,” she replied softly.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room suddenly very quiet.
Euphemia stood in the center of her chamber, staring at the empty doorway.
She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had crossed an invisible line, but for the life of her, she couldn’t comprehend why a discussion on marital logistics had utterly unraveled him.
A determined look settled over her features. She didn’t like being kept in the dark, and she liked being uneducated even less.
She decided that it was best to do the research herself. The answer had to be hidden in the books somewhere. She had been very good at researching complicated topics in the past, and she would just have to find out the truth by herself.