“You are wearing your gloves.”
“Yes,” he replied, warily.
That was when it happened. She gave him the look he knew would come eventually. The look of pity that set his blood to boil. His heart pounded. It was a look he’d seen too many times on too many faces and when he saw it, he saw red.
“I hope you don’t feel like you need to do that for my comfort.”
“What?”
“If you feel more comfortable in them, then I’m glad you have them. But for pity’s sake, I know better than anyone that you’re scarred. Don’t wear them on my account.”
He scowled. “Why would I need to wear them for your sake?”
“If you were worried I would be uncomfortable, I want you to know I don’t mind.”
He glared. “Perhaps not, but I do.”
“Then I’m glad you have them.”
“Are you?”
“Of course, even if you don’t want to tell me why you’re wearing them.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
She huffed. “I don’t know. Perhaps because I am your wife now.”
He scowled. “I thought you didn’t want to marry me.”
“I did not, no,” she confessed. “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because we’re here now. There’s no changing it. I am your wife so we should try to make the best of it.”
He snorted out a half laugh. “That isn’t a half bad way of seeing things. There’s just one little problem.”
“Oh really? And what would that be?”
“I have no desire to be married to you either.”
She paled. “What?I don’t understand. If you feel like that, then why did you come to the church? Why not let me marry Lord Gallmore and be done with it?”
“Because, you’re mine!” he growled.
She glared. “If you don’t want me for your wife, then it doesn’t really seem like I’m yours to me.”
“I can see that. Otherwise, you never would have tried to marry that awful man.”
“I already told you, It was my parents choice,” she leveled him with a look. “Just like you were.”
“So you’re saying I should blame them?”
“Of course not!”
“Then what are you saying?”
She sighed. “I only wanted to point out that you were the one who made a choice here, not me.”
