Chapter 10 #2
“So we are to be polite acquaintances with a shared roof.” She tilted her head. “We could have arranged that without a sacrament.”
“The sacrament supplies protection,” he said, steady. “That was your stated wish, and it has been granted to you. Now I would not expect you to make a fuss.”
“My wish,” she said, “was to be chosen. By someone who would then stay.”
“You are chosen,” he argued and gave her a look that implied that she was being silly.
Silly, or too emotional perhaps. It was one of the two, surely.
“Yes, but I mean to say chosen in a more certain way…”
He cut her off before she had a chance to continue her words.
“Let it be known, Maria, that you are safe here and you have a roof over your head,” he said. “Here you shall not be a burden to anyone. That had been your original intention, and it has now been achieved.”
She stared at him for a moment. It was not as though he was uttering a lie. He was entirely correct to say that, as that had been her original intention. But then, somewhere along the way, she had started to wonder what it would be like to want slightly more for herself.
“You speak as if you have lifted a weight off your conscience and set it on my doorstep,” she said. It was not a clear way to articulate her feelings, but it was the safest one.
“If you are determined to take offense….” Stephen droned on.
“I am determined to take you at your word.” Her hands were no longer steady. She held them up so he could see the trembling. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“To you,” he repeated, “Frankly, I am rather surprised that you are behaving in this manner. I thought that you would be happy at having married now.”
“Yes, I am not denying that,” she sighed. “But I did not expect you to be cold to me. Did I wrong you on the way to the altar?”
“No,” he said, simply. She found herself wishing that he would offer her more of an explanation.
“Then why the distance?” she tried to ask.
He set his hands behind his back and seemed to be lost in thought.
“Because it is kinder,” he said at last.
Kinder? “For whom?” she asked.
“For you,” he said. “And for me. There is less injury where there is less opportunity.”
“Less opportunity?” she repeated. “I do not know why you are phrasing our marriage in these terms. It appears to me quite cold, and I did not expect you to be so cold.”
Stephen raised an eyebrow. “I suppose we both will have to manage and readjust our expectations towards one another,” he said. Even then, his tone was curt.
Her mind was beginning to spiral now. Just a few days prior, he had been so helpful towards her, and he had been understanding of her needs. Now that they had made a vow to each other, it was as though his personality had shifted entirely.
“Why must you be this cold?” She found her voice breaking, despite her best effort to keep it together in front of him.
“Experience is a miserable tutor,” he mumbled. “That is the only honest statement I can claim to make today, and I would suggest you not take any of this to heart. It is better to be practical.”
“What other statements will you make?” she snapped, and then steadied herself. “I will ask plainly since you prefer plain. Do you intend to be a husband, or only the owner of the property I live in?”
“You will find me dutiful,” he said simply.
“Dutiful,” she repeated. “To accounts and schedules perhaps, but not to me.”
“As I said, I will be dutiful. And you may infer from that as you wish,” he said. “There is no need to needlessly make this into an emotional conversation.”
“But you must know that you have to expect emotion from me,” she replied, feeling as though she was on the verge of tears. “I am a lady, and it is well within my rights to have emotions or react in a manner that you deem emotional.”
“That is precisely what you must learn not to do anymore,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I understand that ladies can be a tad more… well, emotional, but ultimately, they do not serve anyone, and you will find that they might even be to your disadvantage.”
She could only stare at him for a few moments. It was as though the Stephen she had only briefly known had been replaced by someone who was calculating of his every move, and cold as ice.
“Am I wrong?” he asked when he noticed that she had been perhaps stunned into silence.
“I am just trying to wrap my head around here,” she said.
“To me, it seems that you are acting as if I dragged you here against your will. You proposed, and you told my brother. I merely stood where you placed me and said yes because the alternative was to set fire to my life in front of everyone I love. I did not subject this on you, rather you subjected yourself to it.”
He flinched so slightly she would have missed it if she hadn’t been waiting for proof he could feel anything at all.
“I am not accusing you,” he said. “Nor am I trying to argue with you here.”
“No,” she said, quieter. “You are punishing yourself and calling it courtesy. And then you are giving me the bill for it in the form of coldness. I did not know that you were going to be cold to me. That is not something that I wish for.”
He stared at the bookcase, offering her no explanation. She felt herself growing irritated again.
“Very well,” she said when the silence grew heavy enough. “If you will not explain, we will proceed on the terms you offered.”
It was a way to keep the peace, even if it was for the time being. She did not know what she could say to him now that would make him look at things any differently.
“I can do that,” he said.
“I am sure you can,” she was curt in her response now.
He set his jaw, then reached for the keys and placed them in her palm, “You are mistress here,” he said. “If anyone in this house makes you small, you will tell me.”
“You already have,” she said.
“Anyone other than me.”
“I am not afraid of your staff,” she said. “Nor am I a child sent to the stillroom for being in the way. I ran a life before I had a house; I can run a house without your schedule.”
“Then there is little to quarrel about,” he said.
“There is everything to quarrel about,” she said, and then stopped.
Anger would do her no good.
She opened her fingers and looked at the keys. “What would you like from me first, Your Grace? A tour of the scullery to demonstrate that I am not a burden? A parade of ledgers? An inventory of virtue?”
“Do not mock,” he said, but the bite was dulled.
“Then do not hand me a household as if it were a consolation prize.” She inhaled and let it out through her teeth. “Tell me one true thing I can use. And I do not want for it to be an instruction or a timetable, but I want you to tell me the truth only.”
He thought so long she heard the clock in the corridor strike the quarter.
“I will not be the reason you are afraid,” he said finally.
“That is a vow you can keep?” she blinked.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“Then keep it,” she said, nodding now. “And stop behaving as if your very presence is the thing I should fear.”
He nodded once, the movement abrupt.
“Tea is at four,” he said, and she almost laughed at the absurd return to logistics. “The housekeeper will come to you then. If you prefer another hour, send a note.”
“You will be in the library until six,” she said, dryly.
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow you go to town.”
“Yes.”
“We will not see each other much.”
“That is likely,” he said.
“By design,” she pressed.
“Yes,” he said.
She held his eyes. “Cowardice in a handsome suit is still cowardice.”
“I have been called worse,” he said in a low voice, “You will have my schedule by breakfast.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “I shall try to slot you in accordingly.”
“As you please,” something that resembled a smile ghosted his lips, but he was quick to cover it up. He turned to go, then paused with his hand on the latch. “Maria?”
“What?” she asked. She hated it now that her heart started to beat faster whenever he said her name.
“If you decide you want new paper, do not ask. Order it,” he said simply.
“That is your last word?” She stared.
“For today,” he said, and left.