The moment they entered the townhouse, Gregory strode toward his study without a word.
"We need to discuss what happened," Anthea said, following him.
"There is nothing to discuss." He did not look at her, already reaching for the brandy decanter.
"You humiliated me in front of everyone," Anthea said, anger finally breaking through the hurt. "I was trying to help you, and you dismissed me like—like some irritating child who had interrupted the adults."
Gregory poured himself a generous measure of brandy. "You were not trying to help me. You were trying to manage me."
"Because you were about to offend Lord Hartwick! I could see it happening?—"
"And so you swooped in to rescue me," Gregory said, finally turning to face her. "As though I am some incompetent fool who cannot conduct a simple business conversation without his wife's intervention."
"That is not—" Anthea stopped, forcing herself to take a breath. "I was doing what we agreed. Helping you navigate Society. That was our entire arrangement."
"Our arrangement," Gregory said coldly, "did not include you treating me like an incompetent in front of the very men whose respect I need to secure funding for my estates."
"I was not treating you like an incompetent! I was smoothing over a potential conflict before it became worse!"
"I did not need you to smooth anything over." He took a swallow of brandy. "I was handling the situation."
"By insulting Lord Hartwick's agricultural knowledge?" Anthea's voice rose despite her efforts to remain calm. "By implying his methods were inferior? That was your idea of handling it?"
"I was being honest," Gregory said. "Lord Hartwick's approach is outdated. The four-field system he uses may have worked a decade ago, but there are more efficient methods available now. Methods I learned from men who actually work the land rather than gentlemen who theorize from their libraries."
"And you think insulting him will make him more likely to support your investment proposals?" Anthea asked incredulously. "Gregory, these men have fragile egos. You cannot simply?—"
"I will not lie to flatter egos," Gregory interrupted. "I will not pretend inferior methods are adequate simply because acknowledging superior alternatives might offend someone. That is not how I operated in the military, and I will not operate that way now."
"You are not in the military anymore," Anthea said sharply. "You are trying to secure support from men who value courtesy and tact over brutal honesty. Whether you like it or not, that means occasionally softening your approach."
"Softening my approach?" Gregory's laugh was bitter. "You mean lying. Pretending. Playing the same ridiculous games everyone else in this godforsaken city plays."
"Yes," Anthea said. "If that is what it takes to achieve your goals, then yes. That is how Society works."
"Then Society is broken," Gregory said flatly. "And I will not debase myself by?—"
"You are being impossibly stubborn," Anthea interrupted. "I know you are uncomfortable with Society's rules. I know they seem arbitrary and foolish. But they exist, and you cannot simply ignore them because you find them inconvenient."
"And you cannot simply swoop in every time you think I am about to make a misstep," Gregory countered. "If I am to establish myself here—if I am to be taken seriously—then I need to do it on my own terms. Not by hiding behind my wife's skirts while she smooths over every rough edge."
The words landed like a slap.
"Hiding behind my skirts?" Anthea's voice came out dangerously quiet. "Is that what you think I was doing? Coddling you? Treating you like a child who needs protection?"
"What else would you call it?" Gregory demanded. "You saw me having a difficult conversation and immediately assumed I needed rescue. As though I am incapable of handling conflict without your intervention."
"I was trying to help you," Anthea said, each word clipped. "That was what we agreed. I help you navigate Society, youprovide protection and resources for my sisters. That was our arrangement."
"Our arrangement did not include you undermining me in public," Gregory said coldly.
They stared at each other across the study, the distance between them feeling far greater than the few feet of carpet.
"Fine," Anthea said finally. "If you do not want my help, then you will not have it. Manage your own social affairs. Navigate Society on your own. See how far your brutal honesty takes you."
"Gladly," Gregory said. "And perhaps you could extend me the same courtesy of not interfering in matters you do not understand."
"Matters I do not understand?" Anthea's voice rose again. "I understand Society far better than you do. That is the entire reason you married me."
