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Charles’s broad shoulders shifted side to side as he pulled her deeper into the gardens until they reached a dark corner of the twisting shrubs.

There, Charles whirled around to face her, finally releasing his hold. The powdery scent of lilac on the breeze and the distant splashing of water marked the air, but Marie could not see anything beyond Charles’s fierce glower peering closely down at her.

“Why have you brought me out here?” she demanded, refusing to be intimidated by his actions.

“Are you frightened?”

“Not in the slightest,” she said. “I was merely wondering if I ought to prepare myself for you to make another scene like you did in the ballroom.”

Honestly, there had been no scene. She knew her smile had been enough to convince any observer that all was well between the newlyweds. She’d just been wanting to deliver another swipe at Charles.

The music from the ballroom drifted on the breeze toward them, and she fought the urge to flee toward the joy she’d felt before. The knowledge that Charles had been watching her, becoming jealous at her attention toward other men, had nourished her starving pride.

But now, she feared she may have taken a bite too large. Charles’s expression retained an unhinged look, the fury in his eyes visible in the light of the moon.

Marie truly wasn’t frightened of him. Even when he’d held her wrist, his grasp had been soft enough to allow her to get away if she’d truly tried. She just hadn’t wanted to make a scene. And, furthermore, were Charles truly a violent man, he certainly would not have hesitated to throttle her by now.

Even still, she was uneasy because she didn’t know what to expect from him out here.

“I was not making a scene,” he stated. “I was—am—attempting to adjust to the idea of what my future holds now and what my present is. The events of today have rocked my stability past the point of logic.”

“Do you not think my own stability has been rocked?” she countered.

“You have had far longer than I to adjust to it.”

“Yes, but I have had far shorter a time to adapt to my discovery of marrying a child who resorts to throwing a fit when he does not get his way.”

“I am no child,” he said, stating each word carefully.

That was the word she’d used before to push him over the edge. Child. Dare she continue? Goading was no way to treat one’s husband.

“..as lifeless and dreary as her accomplishments...as much personality as a handkerchief.”

Fire burst within her. That answered that, then.

“Are you not a child?” she challenged.

She was pushing him, and even though she knew she was being childish herself, there was a fire and a passion in their conversation she’d never experienced herself—nor had she ever witnessed in anyone. All of her frustrations were spilling forth upon him, kindling to his already raging fire, and with each new flame produced, she received a boost of satisfaction.

And blast it all, if she didn’t wish to stroke her morbid curiosity further to see just what he might say next.

She drew a step closer to him, giving in to her human failings. “Then what would you call storming out of a ballroom simply because you did not like the words coming from my lips?”

His eyes centered on her mouth, his broad chest rising and falling with angry breaths. “I had to leave before a true scene would be made. Some would call that self-control and compassion.”

“I would call it unable to be domesticated.”

His nostrils flared, and he took an abrupt step toward her. She did not flinch, merely lifting her chin to meet his gaze and whatever further vitriol he would let loose.

But nothing more came.

Instead, he closed his eyes, a line forming in the middle of his brow as he created more distance between them.

“This was your plan all along, was it not?” he asked. “To trick my parents into thinking you are amiable and accomplished so they would arrange for you to marry me.”

“Are you truly so prideful as to believe I wished to marry you so desperately?” she asked.

“No, of course not. Because any man would do for you, wouldn’t he?” His eyes found hers again. “You cared not who you’d wed, so long as your future was secured. So long as you could dupe unsuspecting parents like my own.”