‘Ex abundantia cordis os loquitur—’
‘ENGLISH!’
‘From the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks!’ He was shouting now, properly shouting, which he never did. ‘And what your heart is full of, apparently, is poison. Do you really think I ever wanted to marry anyone but you? Good God, Christina, Penelope was about as exciting as a parliamentary roll from 1472. Beautiful, yes. Appropriate, absolutely. And utterly, completely wrong for me.’
‘You dated her for two years.’
‘I dated her because it was expected. Because Ma orchestrated it like she was arranging an alliance.’
‘Right. So, you married a Glaswegian scrubber to piss off your mother.’
He gave a loud tut. ‘Why are you ashamed of your roots? It’s ridiculous. I don’t care where you came from, but it’s all you seem to think about. You change your accent when you’re around my mother. You barely even mention your own mother. Younevertalk about your father. Why not? Are you ashamed of him?’
‘I don’t want to talk about him. He’s ancient history.’
‘Ilikeancient history.’
Her fists balled and she pummelled them into her sides. ‘And that’s the problem right there! Everything is history to you. Nothing is about us, our future, your family. Do you know how hard I try to fit in?’
‘Then stop trying. You sound like a snobby social climber.’
‘I amnota social climber!’
‘Stop it.’ His voice cracked. ‘Just stop.’
But she couldn’t. Years of insecurity came pouring out. ‘You regret it. Marrying beneath you. Your mother probably reminds you every Christmas.’
‘My mother admires you.’
‘Your mother tolerated me once I had your bairn in my belly!’
‘That’s not—’ He pressed his palms against his eyes. ‘This is like arguing with Cardinal Wolsey. Round and round, no resolution, just theatrical suffering.’
‘Stay in the present!’
He clutched at his satchel strap and checked his watch. ‘I can’t do this, Tina. Not now. I’ll be late for my flight.’
‘That’s right, run away. Very heroic. Very Tudor of you.’
‘At least I’m going somewhere to speak to people who actually want to listen to me!’
‘Good for you,’ she spat. ‘You’re going to spend two weeks dissecting the dissolution of the monasteries while I stay here and play the servant to your family.’
‘Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus!’ He spat it like a curse.
‘TRANSLATE!’
‘Love is rich with both honey and venom.’ His hand was on the door handle. ‘And right now, Christina, you’re serving up nothing but venom.’
‘At least I’m serving up something! At least I’m here, not disappearing for weeks on end leaving their wife—’
‘My wife who thinks I was coerced into marrying her, who thinks I pine for another woman, who thinks Iregretthe best decision I ever made!’ His voice broke. ‘Do you have any idea how that feels? To love someone who thinks you’re trapped?’
Her lips curled into a sneer; she knew the truth behind that lie, she’d heard the conversation that precipitated the proposaljust days later, followed by a hasty marriage. ‘Then why did your mother have to tell you to marry me? Why did it take your mother’s intervention?’
He stared at her, and for a moment, she thought he might cry. ‘Because I was terrified. Because you’re brilliant and fierce and you challenge me and you’re not afraid to tell me I’m being an arse. Because I knew that marrying you would be difficult and real and nothing like the comfortable dynastic merger Ma wanted.’
The kitchen felt too small, too quiet.
