Page 28
His threat was empty, just as it had been in the carriage earlier that morning.
Apparently, Marie knew it, as well. She smiled at him, knowingly. “I thought you might. Well, you have made your appearance, and while your attempt was embarrassingly lackluster, I cannot fault you for it. Enjoy your ride home in solitude. Oh, and do not wait up for me. I intend to enjoy myself to the fullest this evening. Goodnight, Mr. Shepherd.”
She began to saunter away, but Charles forced himself to remain steady. “You have everything worked out for yourself, do you not?”
She paused, turning around to face him. Most of the crowd advanced toward the dance floor, music signaling the beginning of “A Trip to the Clouds.”
A couple walked by, and Marie nodded in greeting with a kind smile before drawing a step closer to Charles. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice low so other passersby might not hear them.
He followed suit. “Your life. You have somehow managed to sort all the issues out so you have every happiness. You have a husband when you had no hope of obtaining one and a future when you had no hope of securing one. You have two parents who supported your intentions from the start, and now two new parents who dote on you at every turn.”
Her smile lessened as he continued, and his courage took heart.
“And, having obtained everything you wished, you are now allowed to enjoy an errant existence of flirting and freedom. You’ve somehow managed all of the security with none of the loyalty. I tip my hat to you, madam.”
Her eyes were as hard and dark as coal. “I do wonder if your parents are aware of how senseless their son is.”
“And I wonder if your parents are aware of how treacherous their daughter is.”
“I did not trick you into this marriage,” she spat out, her voice raising before she checked it. “And as much as you like to believe otherwise, I do not have every happiness.” She gave him a look up and down. “Especially now.”
Finally, Charles had coaxed the real Marie from her hiding place. That knowledge satisfied him so greatly, he couldn’t help but provoke her further.
“How could you not be happy?” he retorted. “You are secured for life. You have a husband who was raised a gentleman, and as such, he will provide you with all of life’s basic necessities. He will ensure you are well cared for and bring you to balls to stand by in silence as you flirt your way around Surrey.”
He’d hoped she’d hang her head in shame, perhaps even boast a blush, but when a satisfied smile reached her lips, his confidence faltered.
“You were watching me, then?” she asked.
Blast. “It is difficult not to notice one’s wife behaving like a spectacle.”
“Oh, so I am a spectacle now? What a relief, as I thought I had less personality than—what was it again? Oh, that is right—a handkerchief.”
He cringed. Hearing his own words out loud managed to unseat his stubborn pride for a moment, replacing it with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and guilt. He’d been raised better than to even entertain such criticisms about a woman, let alone voice them. No matter what Marie had done, no one deserved such unkindness.
And yet, did he deserve the unkindness shown to him by his own parents?
He stamped the emotions down within him, unwilling to harbor the unwelcome, vulnerable feeling a moment longer.
“I’m sorry you overheard my words from earlier,” he began, “but you should not have been listening to them to begin with.”
“Is that your idea of an apology?”
“Forgive me. I cannot lie as well as you,” he said.
No hint of a smile touched Marie’s lips any longer. The next dance had already begun, the excited chatter drowned out by the countless feet tapping the dance steps against the floor.
Charles was only vaguely aware of the fact that he still remained in the ballroom, consumed instead by Marie’s calculating gaze.
“I might have believed you before,” she said. “That you were incapable of lying. But this evening, just as I suspected, your true character has been revealed. You were merely performing before, just like the rest of us.”
“Was I?”
“Yes. Not only have you deceived your parents into thinking you are a gentleman, but you have also convinced yourself that your charm and status are enough to make a woman happy in an unwanted arranged marriage—simply because it is a marriage with you. But let me assure you, Charles Shepherd. You are the last man I would have ever chosen for myself.”
Her words cut past his pride, slicing through his insecurities and piercing the truth. She was right. About everything.
“I see past your performance,” she continued, drawing a step closer to him, her voice dangerously low. “I see who you truly are—a spiteful scoundrel hidden behind fine clothing and polite words. You, Charles Shepherd, are nothing more than a child.”
