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For as long as your wife demands.

His eyes tracked her as she danced down the set with her happy, smiling partner. He could have described every gentleman she’d danced with tonight in the same regard, for they all appeared delighted to be dancing with Marie.

Of course, she hadn’t had a single spare moment to dance with her own husband. Indeed, she had not even glanced in Charles’s direction once.

Not that he was complaining. Or jealous. That would mean he wanted her attention on himself, which he didn’t. Walking into the ballroom together, forcing a smile with her on his arm, had been dreadful. Anything further would push him over the edge.

He was simply filled with indignation that she could be so happy with every other gentleman but Charles, and frankly, he did not approve of her behavior.

Were they not supposed to be putting on the appearance of a happy marriage? He was attempting to fulfill his duty—why was she not hers? Especially when she’d bragged about it so fully before they married.

Bitterness swirled within him—a bitterness that could rival his friend Leonard’s. Leonard was persistently annoyed with his lot in life. Charles had always thought it humorous, but now, on the other side of it, the feeling was unnerving.

That woman. He would never again receive a single moment of peace being married to her. He couldn’t even speak with his parents without her meddling.

At the thought of her overhearing his words, his whole body ran hot. He’d tried to feel better by telling himself that it was her fault. She’d been prying in on a private conversation.

But no matter how he spun the matter, he was in the wrong. He never should have stated such cruel things about anyone—let alone a woman he’d vowed to honor only hours before.

His parents had given him a sound tongue lashing after his words, and he’d taken it in stride, for he deserved every scolding word from them and himself. He was thoroughly and rightfully ashamed.

And yet, did any husband deserve this treatment—being forced to remain at a ball in the back corners of the room while his new wife enjoyed the company of every single gentleman in attendance, apart from the one she tricked into marrying?

Her rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and bouncing black curls spoke measures to how greatly she enjoyed the attention she was receiving. Her glee was apparent, as was each of her companion’s when she laughed with them, took their arm, and devoted all of her focus on each gentleman in turn.

Charles’s jaw tightened, and he forced his eyes away, only to have them return swiftly of their own accord, as if they could not help but dwell on her disloyalty.

She clapped in time with the music and the other dancers, then spun in a circle around her partner before facing the man with more delight than ever before. The gentleman she danced with was tall and fair with blue eyes that watched Marie as if she wasn’t married.

Charles’s blood boiled. She had to be doing this on purpose. She’d experienced his cruelty and was now exacting her revenge by proving him wrong.

And she was proving him wrong. He’d claimed she was lifeless, and now, she was the life of the party. He’d claimed her to have less personality than a handkerchief, and now, she exuded character as she laughed, made her partners grin, and engaged in focused conversation despite their dancing.

And yet, Charles concluded that he was right in at least one regard—Marie really was as deceptive as he’d claimed. What other explanation was there for her frequently changing personality? And what other reason could explain why she hadn’t been married? Everyone seemed to love her, so what had led her and her parents to ultimately seek an arranged marriage?

Mother had said Marie had simply never found anyone to love. Or was the truth of the matter that she had never found anyone to love her?

With her erratic behavior, Charles was beginning to believe the latter.

“Taking a moment of respite?”

Charles nearly jumped at Mr. Oakley’s voice, having no notion that he’d come to stand beside him.

“I do not blame you,” Mr. Oakley said without awaiting Charles’s response. “Anyone would need rest after the day you’ve had.”

Charles held his tongue. Were they to feign friendship now? Was Charles supposed to simply ignore everything that had occurred between them? He already knew he could not—would not.

“I find I must do so during social matters, as well,” Mr. Oakley continued. He nodded politely to another gentleman and lady as they walked. “It was good of you to come tonight. Despite the rigors of the day.”

Charles clasped his hands behind him. He didn’t think he was in danger of reaching out to throttle the man, but better to be safe than sorry.

“I did not have much of a choice, did I?” Charles murmured.

Mr. Oakley cast him a sidelong glance, then sighed. “I should like to have a pleasant relationship with my son-in-law after all of this, so I shall begin anew and apologize for how matters escalated this morning—and for how you came to discover the arrangement. It must have been quite the shock.”

Understatement of the year. Even still, Charles was minded to accept the apology. He felt more understood by this man than his own parents at this rate.

Still, his heart refused to be softened. “Thank you, sir,” he said stiffly.