AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The day had been long. Up at dawn and out around the estate made up for heavy sleep at night. Abigail, her lady’s maid, looked as tired. Aurelia made it a point for someone to accompany her during her days in the field. She wanted no gossips to go around about the way she conducted her life. Her sole aim consisted of helping manage the estate and make it provide for everybody. She planned not to have a man, any man, in her life. Others would not judge her if she must spend too much time with Coleman. Either Abigail, or a tenant’s wife or daughter accompanied her in her tasks concerning the land.
She stood up decidedly. Time for dinner. In the dining room. She gathered her skirts together with her wits and headed for the door before she changed her mind.
Upon opening the dining room door, her heart skipped a beat. Conrad sat at the table, damp black hair, coat and breeches fitting him snugly, his tall frame accommodated at the table’s end. He looked at her, the candles playing with his dark eyes. He came home more muscular, more mature, more… She should not have come, she concluded in haste. She did not want to have anything to do with him, but his presence would never be comfortable.
Their wedding day came to mind. She remembered him at the manor’s chapel altar waiting for her. All starry eyes, she walked to him on her father’s arm, envisioning a fairy tale future with that tall, handsome man. She had barely been able to count the hours for their wedding night when she would tell him about her love for him and life would be a scented garden. The higher the expectation, the bigger the disappointment, as she had learned the hard way.
The seat at his right, where a place had been set for her, she sat murmuring a greeting. Eyes down, she would keep this at a minimum of interaction. The servants served the dinner and descended back to the kitchen to have theirs. She started eating, for the company continued unwanted, but she was hungry after a day’s work.
She took a bite of the roast, closing her eyes at its delicious taste. She mentally praised cook. Her lashes opened again and caught him staring at her. She sustained his dark eyes until he gave in, returning his attention to his plate. As his head moved, the candles danced on his midnight hair, red-bluish streaks shone, causing her to marvel at it. Abruptly, he elevated his head and found her staring. Blinking nervously, she dabbed her mouth, as tension squeezed her.
Conrad filled a goblet with water and glanced at his wife. As he caught her watching him, he wondered at what her mind whirled about. Her woollen high-necked dress might not be fashionable, but it did a good job of revealing the contours of her lush body. And he could not help the rise of his desire for her. The pleasure she evidenced with the food got him eager to discover which other pleasures would seduce her. His groin came alive. She did not seem inclined to small talk. He was not willing to waste the chance at a conversation since she showed up for dinner.
“The roast is delicious, would you not say?” He attempted in a low voice.
Her hand smashed the napkin, her shoulders going concrete. It seemed as if she prepared for a battle or something. Her resistance to him appeared thorough.
“Indeed.” She answered laconic.
Right, so she wanted to pretend he did not come back. Fine. Only it would not happen. He came to resume his life. To have a life if you prefer. About time, he deemed.
“The weather is bound to get better. I did a pleasant ride today.” He tried again.
She morphed into a static creature, straightening her spine even more. Then she filled her lungs with air as if welling patience. Her rejection of him came in heat waves. It made him uncomfortable.
“It’s spring.” Came her near-monosyllabic answer.
It would seem winter would prevail, if her cold voice was anything to go by. Unused to being treated with such contempt, Conrad was uninclined to abide by her frost. Vexation grew in him.
“How are the estate matters going?” According to what he witnessed, he imagined they were all right, but he wanted to hear her talking about it.
She snapped her eyes to him, her rosewood hair catching the candlelight. “There is enough for you to squander.” Laconic, her attention got back to eating.
Her cold welcome added to her friendliness to Coleman did not supply him with infinite patience. Her sarcasm now irritated him. There was no way of him undoing what he had done. And there was no way of her un-marrying him. They stood stuck in this; they must deal with it.
“Does the rotation culture work?” He insisted.
Again, her hard stare found him. “Enough for you to gamble away.” Came the dry retort.
Anger burned in him, as h
e tried to contain it. “The tenants are content, I suppose.”
This time she did not even turn her eyes to him. “They will provide for your whoring.” She sipped her wine.
He stood abruptly, sending his chair to the floor with a thud. Fury burned in his dark eyes. “It is not your place to speak to me thusly!” he growled.
Aurelia startled with his reaction and it fuelled her latent rage. How dare he? She followed suit and stood in a flash, hands propping on the table, torso inclined forward, eyes darting fire, she faced him fully.
“The fact a husband has prerogatives over a wife matters not a bit to me!” She spat furiously.
Mirroring her, he propped his hands on the table and inched in her direction, their heads not far apart; she could see the bluish rim around his iris. Their stares battled silently, both holding their ground.
“How about mutual respect?” He dared.
“Respect?” She measured him from head to hands. “You would not recognise it if it was splashed on your despicable face!” What “respect” had he showed her since they married?
He inhaled by his nose, livid. “You will not address me this way!”
