Victor had heard enough. Charlotte had just called Melcombe by his given name, and in a tone that she had never used with him. He had to leave before he killed them both. Later he would decide exactly what he would do and how he would deal with his friend and his wife.
When he returned to the manor, Victor rushed up to his set of rooms and watched for his wife. When she emerged on the road, he waited until she was about to enter and made his way down the stairs. While she smiled sweetly at him, Victor did not display the same expression.
“Were you out walking again?”
“Yes, I was. It is a beautiful day.”
“I would not know,” Victor answered coolly.
Chapter 15
Charlottedidnotknowwhat to make of Victor’s mood, so she did not comment upon it. Perhaps he hadn’t slept well the night before. “Shall we have breakfast? I am famished.”
“I am not surprised,” he said, not quite under his breath.
“Why?” Charlotte asked, turning toward him.
“It is not any wonder you would be hungry after exercising so early,” he answered before walking to the sideboard where their food had been set out.
Without a word, he handed one of the papers to Charlotte and began reading another himself.
Charlotte couldn’t begin to understand why he was so surly.
Worry churned and Charlotte lost her appetite. What if she had said or done something to displease him, though she could not think of anything else. At least not since she returned from the village yesterday.
Victor glanced over the rim of his paper and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“I am not as hungry as I thought,” Charlotte mumbled.
He turned to reading his paper without comment.
As soon as the meal had ended, Charlotte excused herself and went to her chamber.
She must do better, but how?
She didn’t even know why he was in a poor mood this morning so how did she help improve it?
Her duty was to lessen any concerns and make his home pleasant, and she had failed.
Unless, he simply hadn’t slept well.
Could it be so simple and tomorrow would be better?
Charlotte certainly hoped that to be the case, but also avoided her husband for the remainder of the day. She did not want to task his patience if she were the cause of his irritable mood.
Besides, she needed to rest. Her body and mind were exhausted. But at least the ceiling would be done tomorrow, and she would also be able to take the remainder of her paintings to the stables, which would mean that she could sleep a little later.
It wasn’t just the exhaustion but worry and fear that she would say or do the wrong thing. She knew that she wasn’t Victor’s choice as a wife, and she was trying the best that she knew how.
Maybe that was why he was in a poor mood. It was the marriage that he had never wanted.
Tears welled in her eyes as she allowed self-pity to invade.
He had done no more than kiss her on the lips a few times, and at other times on top of her head as if she were a child.
She was a failure, just as her father had always claimed, but Charlotte couldn’t give up. She could not lose her home.
Victorlockedhimselfawayin the library. He had been such a fool. He had thought Charlotte’s nervousness at his arrival was due to maidenly nerves.
