Page 39

Marie scoffed in disgust, shaking her head and tearing the paper in two before sliding the pieces into her reticule. No wonder he’d delivered it at the last moment. He must have known it would allow him to get the final word in.

She had a mind to show the correspondence to Mrs. Shepherd. Charles would be sure to receive the scolding of the century. But she didn’t wish for the woman to worry any further about Marie’s relationship with Charles. At any rate, there was no guarantee Mrs. Shepherd would recognize the satire within their letters anyway. She certainly hadn’t before.

Marie hadn’t either, but now that she knew the man, his personality was obvious. He couldn’t be counted on for seriousness to any degree.

She arrived in the entryway a moment later, walking toward the open doorway. Her thoughts were preoccupied with how to respond to Charles when his voice drifted toward her from where the two carriages lined the drive.

He spoke with another man who boasted a large mustache and thin build, the two of them appearing deep in conversation. She could not catch a word, their heads slightly ducked in a conspiratorial manner.

The gentleman caught her eye first, and he straightened. Charles glanced over his shoulder and smiled with a self-satisfied air, then turned back to the gentleman with a single nod.

The gentleman departed, and Charles faced her.

Marie narrowed her eyes at his impassive expression. His words from the night before slid into her memory.

“There may not be much more of a marriage to experience anyway.”

She hadn’t the faintest notion how he would obtain a divorce or an annulment, but she would not put such an action past someone like Childish Charlie—a man who would clearly stop at nothing to get his own way.

His parents certainly wouldn’t be happy. Father would be livid. And Marie? Marie would be ruined, but at least she would not be forced to be with someone who loathed her.

“There you are,” Charles said as she walked down the steps toward him and the already-loaded carriages. “I see you are feeling better.”

“Your palpable concern has appeared to revive me.”

Before another word could be shared, the Shepherds appeared behind her, and goodbyes were exchanged. Shortly after, Marie and Charles were escorted off the premises in their carriage—the help following behind in a coach of their own.

Charles didn’t speak across from her, and the pleasant expression on his features did nothing to settle her nerves, nor did his constant fidgeting. He tapped his fingers against his leg and persistently shifted in his seat.

After the thirteenth time of Charles tapping out some absentminded tune, Marie couldn’t bear it any longer. She turned to face him directly with a pointed look.

“Do you ever hold still?”

He finally settled, his jawline highlighted as it poked out from his high collar and cravat. “Is my movement upsetting you?”

“It is rather distracting, that is all.”

“My apologies. I would never wish to upset my wife.”

He smirked at the word, then instantly resumed his movements. This time, he bounced his leg up and down so greatly, he proved to rattle the carriage more fully than the bumpy road beneath them.

She stifled a sigh, ignoring him for as long as possible before catching his growing smile.

“You appear more at ease this morning,” she said.

“I am.”

“Why is that?”

He turned to face her, and Marie’s breath slipped from her lips. She had never seen Charles with an actual pleasant expression across his features. His eyes were as dark as hers with hair perhaps even darker, but there was a lightness to his features—brows tipped slightly up in the center, smile lines near the edges of his eyes—that made him appear far less intimidating than he had been.

“I smile,” he began, “because I have finally decided to find a way out of our current...predicament.”

Her stomach tightened. “Predicament? You refer to our marriage, I assume.”

“If you wish to call it that.”

So Marie hadn’t been imagining matters. Charles truly was scheming to end their marriage prematurely.