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Charles followed Marie as they took themselves on a tour through the house, which was even smaller than it had appeared on the outside.

With rooms that flowed into one another, the cottage’s layout was fairly standard—though the dining area only had room for four seatings and the sitting room barely had space for three chairs.

“It is quite small,” Marie said in a soft voice as they peeked into the kitchen on the main level of the house. “But at least it is clean.”

Charles eyed the corridor walls draped with spare webs at the edges. “Depends on your definition of clean.”

“Frightened of spiders, are you?” she asked over her shoulder. “Worry not. I am no stranger to trapping them for my mother. I’d be happy to provide my delicate husband with the same courtesy.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you all the same for your generous offer.”

Charles could handle a little spider now and again, but the worst of the matter was when they climbed the stairs—stairs that were barely wide enough to fit one person at a time—and reached the bedchambers.

Each door was closed apart from the first room at the start of the corridor. Together, they made their way toward it, both of them leaning halfway into the room and peering at the two trunks resting side by side near the bed.

His and Marie’s trunks...placed in the same room. No doubt this was another request from Mother.

In the same moment he glanced at Marie, she glanced at him, and her expression said it all.

She did not approve.

He didn’t pay too much attention to her expression, however, for the small doorframe they stood within brought them nearly as close to each other as the fountain had. Their eyes dropped to each other’s mouths simultaneously, but Marie looked away first.

“One room will not do,” she said. “Especially if we are to seek an annulment.”

He watched her in silence.

She must have taken his lack of response as confusion rather than what it was—a desperate attempt to stop himself from replaying their kiss in his mind over and over again.

“Correct me if I am mistaken,” she began, “but I was under the impression that for a couple to seek an annulment, they must remain...apart.”

“I believe you are correct,” he said softly.

Energy sparked between them as their eyes met again, and Charles’s breathing shallowed.

“Will that be too difficult for you?” she asked.

He barely registered her words. All he could think about was having just one more look at her lips. That was all he needed. One look, and he’d be satiated.

And yet, when he glanced again at those perfect, rosy lips and traced the gentle slopes and curves with his eyes, he knew in that moment, his desire for her would never be quenched until he could drink from those lips again.

“Charles,” she repeated sternly, “will that be too difficult for you?”

“Not for me,” he lied. “You?”

“Not a chance.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Are you certain? You are the one who kissed me if you recall.”

Her eyes flicked between his, then finally, she looked away. “I assure you, that was a moment of weakness and fury that will not be repeated. At any rate, I think it wise if we do not share a room”—she motioned to the small bed barely suitable for one person—“or that.”

He entered the room, pushing aside images of holding Marie in his arms as they fell asleep together. It would be necessary to hold her, after all, in so small a bed.

“I’ll have mine moved directly.” He glanced to the wardrobe. “And the clothing of mine they have no doubt placed within there, as well. I only hope they’ve already prepared another room.”

“I can check for spiders first, if you’d feel safer.”

He rang the servant’s bell near the bed, then turned to face her. She remained in the doorway, her eyes upon him with an expression comparable to when they’d first met—calculating but otherwise entirely imperceptible.