And then something within him simply snapped. He was convinced that his was the perfect marriage, and she wascomplaining? He’d been so sure he’d gotten it right this time. “We’ve been married one week, Eloise,” he ground out. “One week. What do you expect of me?”
“I don’t know. I—”
“I’m just a man.”
“And I’m just a woman,” she said softly.
For some reason, her quiet words only irritated him more. He leaned forward, deliberately using his size to intimidate her. “Do you know how long it had been since I’d lain with a woman?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea?”
Her eyes grew impossibly wide, and she shook her head.
“Eight years,” he bit off. “Eight long years with nothing but my own hand for comfort. So the next time I seem to be enjoying myself while I’m driving into you, please do excuse my immaturity and mymaleness—” He spoke the word as she might, with sarcasm and anger. “I’m simply having a ripping good time after a long dry spell.”
And then, unable to bear her for one moment longer—
No, that wasn’t true. He was unable to bear himself.
Either way, he left.
Chapter 16
... you do have the right of it, dearest Kate. Men are so easy to manage. I cannot imagine ever losing an argument with one. Of course, had I accepted Lord Lacye’s proposal, I should not have had even the opportunity. He rarely speaks, which I do find most odd.
—from Eloise Bridgerton to her
sister-in-law Viscountess Bridgerton,
upon refusing her fifth offer of marriage
Eloise remained in the greenhouse for nearly an hour, unable to do anything but stare off into space, wondering—
What had happened?
One minute they were talking—very well, they were arguing, but in a relatively reasonable and civilized manner—and the next he was out of his head, his face pinched with fury.
And then he’d left. Left. He actuallywalked awayfrom her in the middle of an argument and left her standing there in his greenhouse, her mouth hanging open and her pride more than pricked.
He’d walked away. That was what really bothered her. How could someone walk away in the middle of an argument?
Granted, she’d been the one to instigate the discussion—oh, very well, argument—but still, nothing had transpired that warranted such a storming off on his part.
And the worst of it was, she didn’t know what to do.
All her life, she’d known what to do. She hadn’t always turned out to beright,but at least she’d felt sure of herself when she had made her decisions. And as she sat there on Phillip’s workbench, feeling utterly confused and inept, she realized that for her, at least, it was a great deal better to act and be wrong than it was to feel helpless and impotent.
And as if all that weren’t enough, she couldn’t get her mother’s voice out of her head.Don’t push, Eloise. Don’t push.
And all she could think was— Shehadn’tpushed. Good heavens, what had she done but come to him with a concern about his children? Was it so very wrong to actually want tospeakrather than race off to the bedroom? She supposed it might be wrong, if the couple in question never spent any intimate time together, but they had ... they were ...
It had just been that morning!
No one could say that they had any problems in the bedroom. No one.
She sighed and slumped. She’d never felt so alone in all her life. Funny, that. Who’d have thought she’d have to go and get married—join her life foreternitywith another person—in order to feel alone?
She wanted her mother.
No, she didn’t want her mother. She definitely didn’t want her mother. Her mother would be kind and understanding and everything a mother should be, but a talk with her mother would just leave her feeling like a small child, not like the adult she was supposed to be.
