“I am being serious!”
“So am I,” Theodore said.
“I knew that married life would bring with it changes.” Christopher swallowed the final mouthful of brandy and stalked across the drawing room where the liquor cabinet sat. “I am not such a fool as not to realize that. I just failed to understand how many changes there would be.”
“Some say change is a good thing.” Alistair sat on the couch by the fire, one leg up casually.
“Some say mixing water and scotch together is a good thing,” Christopher said bitterly as he poured another drink.
“Just tell her to stop,” Theodore shrugged and threw back the rest of his drink. “Put your damn foot down.”
Christopher glowered silently, knowing the advice was sound enough, while knowing that it was unlikely to work.
His wife was not like other women. Was this the sister, Christopher had no doubt that she would do as she was told and happily avoid angering him by keeping her head down and out of sight. She would have been a damn perfect wife.
Rosalind was another matter entirely.
Christopher had pictured what might happen if he were to go to her and tell her in no uncertain terms that the changes she made were to be undone. That she was not to do anything without his permission first.
They would argue if he tried that. He would lose his temper. Then he would feel awful, he would have to apologize, and yet another side of himself that he did not wish to reveal would be shown.
No, better to say nothing and hope that she does not go much further. Surely, she will grow bored soon? Surely, once she gets it out of her system, things will calm down?
“We spoke already,” Christopher dismissed. “I am sure that will be enough.”
Theodore was leaning against the side wall, just near the fire, so the flames reflected in his eyes and the white of his teeth. “Ah,yes, because wives are famous for listening to common sense. Especially one as silly as your wife is.”
Christopher stiffened at the insult, and before he could stop himself, he was glaring at his best friend. “I will remind you, Theodore, that is still my wife you are speaking of.”
Theodore’s face dropped. “What? Christopher, I was just –”
“I know what you were doing, and I suggest you don’t do it again, lest you say things that cannot be taken back.” He made sure to look right at Theodore. “Rose is my wife, and I would expect you to remember that when you speak of her.”
“Sorry, Christopher,” He laughed nervously. “I did not mean it.”
Christopher made sure to hold that glare on him a moment longer before turning away, at which point he cursed himself silently because that was not very well played out.
Despite his efforts, Christopher was unable to block out and ignore the pesky feelings that he was developing for his wife. He wanted to feel nothing for her. He wanted to forget that she existed entirely. But she was always there, niggling at the edges of his conscience, and he couldn’t explain why, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“Enough of that,” Christopher cleared his throat and laughed, a means to lessen the tension in the room. “Alistair, you were telling us of ah, what is her name again? Miss Emily Pierce?”
“Oh yes,” Alistair’s eyes lit up, and he launched into a tale of his latest courtship.
Christopher smiled as he listened, laughed when he needed to, and sighed to see the mood in the room return. He needed to do better than he had just done. He needed to be calm and dispassionate always. Things were just simpler that way.
Most of all, I need to stop thinking about Rose. Which should not be too difficult, seeing as she is as set on avoiding me as I am on her.
It was as those words drifted through his mind that a knock sounded at the door.
Christopher started at the sound.
The door slowly creaked open. “I am sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but I was asked after?”
Rose stood awkwardly in the doorway, appearing as confused by the situation as Christopher was.
The first thing Christopher noticed, again, was how unwell Rose looked. This time, it was even worse than before. Her skin was a dull shade of grey, her eyes were sunken, and she seemed to sway where she stood. Whatever was wrong with her was having an equal effect on her confidence, and she didn’t present herself with the usual sense of self that Christopher was becoming accustomed to.
Is this my fault? It started when I left and has gotten worse since I returned. Is she starving herself to protest this marriage? Or is it just a natural effect of being forced to be around me?
