“Then I have done something else, I am sure of it.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve… Well, no… That’s not quite fair. You’ve been working hard. We all have, and I shan’t wish to complain about unavoidable tasks.”
Rhys tensed.
“Like being forced to work as a scullery maid by your husband?”
“I am not being forced to do anything. I want to help.”
“It’s beneath you.”
She took a step towards him.
“Is it beneath you?”
“No, but—”
“Then it isn’t beneath me either. Am I not your wife? Your helpmate? I do not care for sitting in a room all day waiting for visitors. It has never been my goal to placidly exist.”
“What of your goals?” he asked then, removing the muddy shirt from his torso. “You’ve heard mine, but you’ve not mentioned yours.”
“My…my…” She stuttered, her eyes locked on his filthy body. Disgusted, he was sure as she swallowed. “My, what?”
He took a step towards her.
“What were your dreams, Louisa? Before you were gambled off into a marriage with a man like me.”
Louisa’s mouth felt open, her eyes unable to focus on his. Did he repel her that much?
“I don’t know… I mean, I told you. I’ve only ever wanted for a simple life.”
“A simple life,” he repeated, washing his face in the basin of water at the window. He dipped a torn piece of cloth and scrubbed it along his rough stubble, neck, face, and hair. He hadn’t been able to shave in a week. “A simple life with a gentle man.” He soaked the dirty rag in the water again, before repeating his washing. “And here I’ve afforded you a complicated life with a damn peasant.”
He tossed the rag across the room in a fit of bitterness before placing both hands on either side of the basin. He was having a tantrum, like a child, and she was just standing there, second guessing every moment they had spent together.
To his utter shock, in the next moment, he felt the cool touch of her hands on his sweaty back. He remained perfectly still, his breath shallow as he tried to understand what exactly this woman was doing.
Her hands moved up to his shoulders, and trailed down his arms, stopping just above his elbows.
“What you have afforded me, Lieutenant Carlyle, is an honest life. Uncomplicated by superficiality. Do you think so little of me that you would believe I would stomp my foot and complain all day long about working?”
“I do not think little of you at all.”
“And yet you accuse me of being without strength of character. I am happy here, Rhys. Every day, we are working to create a place of peace and purpose and I’m quite proud to be able to do what I can, albeit less than you.”
He turned, regretful that her hands dropped away from his skin.
“You’ve already done so much, Louisa. And you shouldn’t have to do any of it.”
She smiled at him ruefully.
“Because I’m so precious?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes, you are.”
Louisa’s self-deprecating smirk melted away as the air shifted around them. It was a small confession, but Rhys was being sincere.
