She wanted to glare at him but kept that to herself. But her mouth couldn’t stop. “What part ofEnglishwomando you not understand?”
“How does being an Englishwoman have anything to do with knowing of the largest battle since Napoleon?” Karl threw his hands in the air. “It is as if you live with your head in the ground!”
“Yes, now you understand!” Justine cried. “Do you know what I was taught? How to match my shoes to my dress. What fabrics work well together. Which colors are best for my complexion. How to use a buttonholer that dislocates your shoulder to get dressed and undressed because my only value is how well I display my very expensive clothing.”
“You are useless!” he cried, his gait elongating until he strode far in front of her.
“Do you think that’s my fault?” she cried, running after him. “You try being coddled within an inch of your life. You try having every man you’ve ever met either stare down your dress or ask your father how much your dowry is. Why do you think I’m in this blasted place? It’s the only thing I am allowed to do,and the only reason I can is because Ophelia is doing it!” She caught right up to him, her shorter legs working double the rate his were, but it didn’t matter. There was no way he was going to leave her alone in the woods. “Instead of judging me for it, why don’t you try telling me about it, you absolute hypocritical twit?”
His face creased. “What is a twit?” he spat out.
“You, you great numpty.” They were side by side again.
“I do not know that word either.” His boots landed heavy in the snow, tamping deeper than he ever had before.
Shelikedthat he was stomping like a child. Good. Now he could be the ignorant one. “English is full of nuance.”
Karl scoffed. “As if English is the only language and the rest of us are grunting and banging rocks together.”
“That’s not what I said.” Her temper was cooling, but her heart was racing like a rabbit’s. There was something about this verbal sparring that she enjoyed.
“Then tell me these words,” he demanded. His stomping had lessened into normal steps.
“And what if I don’t?” she challenged, still enjoying the edge she carried over him. True, the superiority was exceedingly slim, as the only thing she was better at was her native language, but she was petty enough to exploit any angle she had.
“I’m not a twat,” he grumbled.
She spat out a laugh. “That’s not what I said.”
“No? What did you say? Tweet? Like a birdsong?”
She started laughing and couldn’t stop. “You called yourself a twat.” Her breath caught, and she had to slow down, bending over to recover.
“It is really not funny,” he said. “What is a twat?”
His question sent her spiraling again. She sighed out her laughter and tried for some composure. “A twat is—” She could barely get the word out of her mouth, and she was about togesture to her own body, but then decided against it. There were limits, even for her. “A twat is a rather indecent thing to say.”
At least the exchange seemed to appease him, and he raised his eyebrows in consideration. He watched her recover a while longer, which neither of them seemed to mind. Finally, she gave a sigh and quieted, which seemed to appease him.
“Ready?”
She nodded, trying desperately not to snicker and they continued down the path.
“You are right,” he said, catching her by surprise. “It is not fair to criticize your learning if I do not seek to rectify it.”
“That sentence started out very nicely, but sort of fell off at the end.”
“Do you not wish to learn?” he asked, looking at her with sincere concern, as if she had told him she had a terrible illness.
“Not that I don’t wish to, but I have had very bad luck at learning in the past.”
He frowned. “But you know about your colors and the, what was it? Button-holder?”
“Buttonholer,” she corrected. “You can try, if you wish, but I make no promises of retaining the information or even being able to fully concentrate on listening to you.”
He made a considering sort of noise that she found adorable. She hated that she thought it was adorable. He wasn’t at all worthy of adoring. He’d just called her stupid. No, she amended to herself, not stupid. Ignorant, and that was different.
“I will give you the brief version of events. For these are wars very long in the making.”
