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“Well, now we are on our way, perhaps we may relax a bit,” she said.

Marie smiled in return, grateful for the effort her new mother-in-law was putting forth. Charles remained silent. He stared harder out of the window, his leg bouncing up and down in a disquieting fashion.

Could the man never hold still?

“I do hope this lessens before the ball,” Mrs. Shepherd attempted next, motioning to the window. Rain pelted the glass, sliding down and blurring any chance of seeing much beyond the streaks. “There is nothing quite so agitating as trying to arrive presentably at a social event when one is sodden.”

Marie smiled. “Indeed.”

She glanced at Charles, though again he made no response. She had hoped he would have opened up when they were away from Father, but her optimism swiftly faded.

“When we get to Grendale,” Mrs. Shepherd continued, “you must make yourself at home, Marie. You have been there enough to know where most of the rooms are.”

Marie nodded, though not before hearing a subtle sniff coming from Charles that sounded suspiciously like a scoff.

“Your possessions, of course, have already been brought over and set up in your room,” Mrs. Shepherd said. “Oh, that reminds me. Charles?”

His jaw tightened. “Yes, Mother?”

His voice was deep and rumbling, though it held a distinctive smooth tone that Marie could almost feel reverberating in her chest.

“You will not know this, what with your being at Rowan’s house last month.”

“I was with Ambrose in February, Mother. Not Rowan.”

She waved another hand, clearly revealing how much she did not care what name she’d used. “Yes, yes. At any rate, I wanted you to know that we have moved you to the room adjoining Marie’s.”

Marie stiffened. Adjoining rooms were perfectly normal for upper-class, married individuals, but the thought of a mere doorway between her and this man was unsettling. And she would not even think about tonight. If the man couldn’t even look at her, how were they to...

Well, never mind that now. She would cross that ridiculous bridge when it came. If it came.

“You’ll find the room much larger, Charles,” his mother continued. “It will more than suffice for your needs.”

“Wonderful,” he responded.

Marie eyed him sidelong. From the moment she’d met him, nearly every word from his mouth had dripped with sarcasm. Did he know how to respond in earnest? If only she’d met him before agreeing to wed. She would have been able to recognize the irony written all over his letter, thereby avoiding this situation altogether.

“I knew you’d be happy with the change, son,” Mrs. Shepherd said happily.

Charles’s jaw twitched twice, and Marie found herself staring for a moment, hoping to see the muscles flex again.

He may behave like a child, but he was a man in every other sense of the word. His lean shoulders and legs took up more than half of their side of the carriage.

“Now, Marie,” Mrs. Shepherd said, “while your items have been situated within your room, you’ll find that much of it will remain packed away in one of your trunks to prepare for your departure tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shepherd. That is very kind of you.”

There. That was how one responded to another’s kindness, with gratitude and grace. Surely Charles had been taught as much. Did that mean he was simply refusing to be polite?

Give him a chance, Marie.

She flicked aside her conscience, but it continued to resurface. Perhaps all Charles needed was a bit of effort on her part, to let him know she was not a threat to his happiness—to let him know that a marriage with her wouldn’t be disagreeable at all. In fact, their relationship could be quite pleasant.

She knew the physical appearance of a wife lent to much happiness for one’s husband. She wasn’t hideous to look at, nor did she have bad breath, so he would be well enough off.

Furthermore, she could encourage him to go on this hunting trip of his while she remained alone on their bridal tour. It wasn’t technically a true bridal tour. Instead of traveling around the country, stopping to visit friends and family, they would be remaining in a cottage by themselves for a fortnight.

With Charles gone, she might get a little lonely, but she wouldn’t complain about being left to her own devices for the first time in her life. Indeed, she might get a taste for it and press him to visit his friends—who seemed to mean a great deal to him—as often as he wished. Being away from him often would certainly lead to a better life than being near him and having to feign joy being connected to an adult-sized child.