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“When the weather permits,” she lied again.

Horses were fine animals, but Mother always protested about their height and smell, so her experiences with the creatures had never been particularly pleasant.

“Fishing?” Charles asked abruptly.

“I have never attempted fishing. It is more of a gentlemanly pursuit, is it not?”

He turned to face her more directly, his eyes on her hands once again. “Shuttlecock?”

Had he no response to anything else she’d said? “When one has the right partners, perhaps.” She’d rather die than play on her parents’ team. Father was far too competitive.

She swallowed to wet her throat, though she did nothing else to reveal how unsettled she was by his constant spew of questions. This was an interrogation, one she could not win no matter how she tried.

How she wished to set forth an interrogation of her own.

“Do you know what it means to be a gentleman?”

“Do you realize you have the conversational skills of an ape?”

“Are you aware of just how deeply I despise you right now?”

“What of ice skating in the winter?” he continued.

“I suppose.”

“Croquet in the spring?”

“I could be persuaded.”

“Taking a rowboat onto a lake?”

“I have never done so before.”

“Heavens, Charles,” Mr. Shepherd interjected, both he and his wife watching the exchange with rapid eyes. “What are you trying to accomplish with all these questions?”

“I was simply attempting to get to know my wife.”

“Well, get to know her in a more polite manner,” Mrs. Shepherd advised.

“Of course, Mother.”

He fell silent with a mirthless smile, then abruptly turned to look at Marie. His dark eyes delved into hers for the first time since before they’d married. “Thank you for answering my questions, Marie. It was most enlightening.”

So, he’d been judging her, had he? Testing to see if they would make a match? By the uninspired look in his eyes, she was certain she’d failed. She was highly accomplished and willing to try most activities, but clearly, that was not enough for him. What more did he want? A woman who lied about her desire to be out of doors or a woman who touted her own accomplishments?

Whatever it was, she was certain he didn’t want the real Marie. No man did—as was evident by her single status. No gentleman wished for a woman to admit that eating was one of her greatest joys. That singing in the comfort of her home was far preferable to adventuring out of doors. That her greatest desire was to be seen as who she was, rather than for her accomplishments.

She didn’t know Charles very well, but she knew that any man who began a marriage by assailing his wife with a barrage of interrogative questions was not a man who would encourage her to be herself.

She tore her gaze away from him first, no longer allowing him insight into her soul.

He spoke again, remaining oddly still. “I don’t think I’ll attend the ball tonight.”

All eyes turned to him in stunned silence.

Chapter Six

“Charles,” Mr. Shepherd began, “you promised you would attend.”