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“Why must it take you so long to calm down?” she returned.

He looked away. “It typically does not. But today has set my life into upheaval.”

His tone fell, his demeanor shifting as he turned away from her and rubbed the back of his neck. “You made the wrong turn just there. Allow me to escort you safely back indoors.”

His voice was soft, his shoulders slightly hunched forward, and Marie couldn’t help but stare. She’d done it. Her words had finally broken through his tough exterior. She ought to celebrate, really. Smile haughtily as they returned to the ballroom and tout her winnings by dancing with every other handsome man in the room.

But instead, all she could think of was how much she regretted stooping to this man’s level by injuring him with her words—as he’d done with her.

Still, her pride smarted too deeply to apologize. “Why did you bring me out here?” she asked.

He continued rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers sliding behind his cravat as if he were attempting to loosen it. “Truthfully? I wished to shout at you without the chance of my mother overhearing.”

Marie huffed out a scoff. “I should have expected that.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t exactly behaved honorably since our meeting, have you?”

“And you have?” he questioned.

“More so than you in the last twelve hours.”

“And what exactly have I done that is so dishonorable?”

She held out her fingers, distinctly aware that their argument was gaining steam once again. “Let us count the ways. First, you wrote a letter to your dear mother using sarcasm”—she coughed out the word “lying” before continuing—“Second, you accused her and your father of trickery. Third, you accused me of trickery. Fourth, you claimed that your new bride was lifeless, dreary, and had less personality than a handkerchief. Fifth, you⁠—”

“All right, all right,” Charles interrupted with a wave of his hand. “This is entirely unnecessary.”

“Yes, because you know I am right,” she stated with a little wiggle of her head in victory.

He narrowed his eyes, shifting his body to face her more fully. Where they stood near the fountain, the hedges had parted way, allowing the moon’s light to pour more brightly upon them.

“Shall we count how you have behaved dishonorably, then?” he asked.

“By all means. Enlighten me.”

He took a step toward her. “First, you hid your true self from me before our marriage.” He paused, coughing out the word, “lied,” just as she had done, then took another step in her direction. “Second, you hid your true self from me in the carriage. Third, you eavesdropped on a private conversation between me and my parents. Fourth, you danced and flirted with every single gentleman in the room just for attention.”

He paused, giving her a pointed look, as if waiting for her to deny her actions. But she was woman enough to stand her ground and not deny the truth when it was placed before her. Even if it made her sound like a wretch.

“Fifth,” he continued, drawing ever closer, “you shouted at your husband in the middle of the ballroom⁠—”

“You provoked me, and you know it,” she cut in defensively. “And I did not shout.”

“—and sixth...” He paused, staring down at her, a mere foot between them now. His eyes flicked the length of her features, and when he spoke again, his voice held a distinctive rugged tone that hadn’t been there before. “You believed I would bring you out here to make good on my promise that everyone would know us to be husband and wife.”

Marie froze. She could not deny the truth in his words. Her first thought had been that Charles was going to have his way with her. But how did that make her dishonorable and not him?

She was about to ask that very question, but as he dipped his chin to meet her gaze more fully, the air between them tangibly shifted. Where once, hostility filled the space, a sudden sparkling occurred, and her heart stamped against her chest.

“I doubt there will be a question in anyone’s mind after you’ve dragged me out here, sir,” she stated.

“Should we just be...certain?”

He wet his lower lip, and Marie reeled. How were they shouting moments before—so ferociously that she’d longed to strike him—and now, they were speaking of...this?

All confusion fled when she caught the look in his eye, the challenge within them, as if he were attempting to beat her in their repartee. Clearly, he intended to win this conversation, and he was going to stop at nothing to do so.