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Her heart twinged. She loved Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd—and that love had only grown in the last few months. Did Charles truly think her capable of taking advantage of their goodness?
“You do not know of what you speak,” she said.
“Do I not?” He drew toward her again until she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact. “Then am I wrong to assume that you’ve orchestrated everything because you knew you could not get married without my parents’ approval, and you found my mother to be an easy target?” He took another step closer. “How dare you use her? Are you truly so selfish, so deluded that you thought you’d get away with—”
Marie snapped. Hurt and anger surged through her so swiftly, it took control of her limbs, bringing her hand up to strike the words straight from Charles’s mouth.
Only he was too fast. He reached out with a firm grip around her wrist again, stopping her palm from contacting his cheek at the last moment.
He glowered down at her, his voice slower than before. “Is this how you wish our marriage to begin, madam?”
“Is this how you wish our marriage to begin?” she returned, motioning toward him with a shift of her chin.
They remained there for a moment, unmoving. A mere step separated them as his eyes delved into hers. Then his gaze dropped to her lips.
Marie’s heart stuttered as his brow flinched, and his own lips parted.
Fear sprung within her at the mere thought of what might occur, so she hardened her soul and raised her chin ever higher.
“Release me,” she whispered vehemently.
Charles hesitated, then did as he was told. Instantly, she backed away, holding her wrist to her chest and rubbing it as if he’d hurt her, though the burning sensation lingered due to his touch, rather than his grip.
He watched her actions for a moment, and she thought she saw a hint of regret in his eyes, but she didn’t care. Not anymore.
“I will say this one final time, Charles, for your benefit alone. No trickery nor deception was had on my part in this entire affair. I am a victim like you—if not more so. I was not desperate to marry, but I was anxious to please both of our parents, for I have come to love your mother and father as if they were my own. You may believe what you wish, but I will not speak to this matter again.”
He studied her. “How am I to know what to believe when you appear to change your personality every moment I see you?”
Marie squared her shoulders. “Why would I ever reveal to you who I truly am if you are simply to reject that version of me, too?”
His gaze dropped as he shifted his footing.
“I will return to the ball now,” she said calmly. “For I believe these dances will be the last enjoyment I will experience for the foreseeable future. I shall tell your parents you will be leaving early. You may rest assured, I will behave myself. Excuse me.”
She walked away, slightly on edge at the thought of him stopping her again, but he remained still. She moved beyond the lilac bushes, pretending to know her way around the hedges, though as the sound of the music from the ball grew softer, she hesitated.
Turning beyond another hedge, she came face-to-face with the fountain, which was in the opposite direction of the house. Concern welled within her. She shouldn’t have walked away alone—especially not in the darkness. She had no idea where she was going.
“I am staying.”
Charles’s words behind her caused her to jump, and she whirled around to face him.
“What do you mean by stalking up to me like that?” she said, raising a calming hand to her throat. “You scared me half to death.”
“My apologies,” he said. His tone was far less aggressive than before, but still not entirely sincere.
“Staying where?” she asked, referring to his words from before.
“At the ball.”
“Why?”
“Because it is my duty.”
She dropped her hand. “Now you’re concerned about your duty?”
He delivered a frustrated sigh. “Why must you say things to aggravate me just as I’ve managed to calm down?”
