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William took a step forward, crowding her with his larger-than-life presence. “And what made you think that being my wife had anything to do with fairness?”

Victoria narrowed her eyes at him, her chest heaving. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, to tell him exactly what she thought of him. However, she knew there was no point. She had made a deal, and she was to live with him for the next three months.

Victoria skirted past him and entered the tower, her head held high. Perhaps, it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. But as she stepped inside, her optimism rapidly waned. It was as bad as it seemed, perhaps even worse.

The tower felt oppressively small and cramped, its dimness engulfing her with a sense of foreboding. There was no hall or corridor to speak of, just a room that was an odd combination of a kitchen and dining area. And it was round! She shouldn’t have been surprised, it was a round tower, after all.

There was a large hearth, larger than she’d ever seen in an English house. The size of the crackling fire and warmth briefly reminded her of Saint Petersburg. A big oak table, a few worn chairs, old cupboards, and a single small rug lay near the fireplace. A large armchair nestled in the corner by the hearth, big enough for two people to sit side by side.

Is that it?

Victoria twirled around slowly, taking in the entire room. She noticed a winding staircase tucked into the eastern side of the chamber. Intrigued, she went to explore the rest of the house, climbing the creaky stairs only to find herself met with a closed door. There was no landing; the stairs directly led her to a door.

With a determined push, she opened the door and found herself in what she assumed to be a bedchamber. She blinked, her eyes trying to adjust to the dim interior. It had a single narrow bed nestled by the window, not the grand four-poster bed she was accustomed to. The room appeared large enough for two people, provided those two people did not move while they slept. A hearth, though smaller than the one in the other room, still dominated the space it occupied.

Victoria stepped inside and turned slowly, taking in the humble decor—if one could even call it that. The walls were stark and unadorned, with no other furnishings except for the bare necessities. Most of the space was occupied by Victoria’s trunks lining the unembellished stone walls on either side.

William walked in just then, and she stared at him. “That’s it?”

One side of William’s mouth kicked up in a smile. “There’s a dressing room through those doors, including a bath and a chamber pot,” he said proudly.

Victoria blinked in stupor. “But where am I to read?”

He waved a hand toward the bed.

“Where am I to do needlework?” she continued.

“Downstairs. There is a really nice armchair by the hearth.”

She scoffed. “And where am I to write letters?”

He puffed out his chest and hid his hands in his pockets. “Have you noticed the table downstairs? Perhaps you’d like to see that room again.”

She spun on her heel and shouldered her way past him. “Surely you jest! This is just a suite of rooms. We do have more rooms?!” she asked as she made her way back downstairs.

William followed her on her heels. “We do not. Listen, pet. Until today, I have always lived alone. What do you think I need a large townhouse for? To collect dust? Besides, it would take forever to clean, and I do not like people snooping through my things; therefore, I do not have servants—”

“You don’t have servants?” Victoria stopped, and William stumbled into her back. She turned toward him and watched him with her mouth wide open.

He gritted his teeth. “Just the carriage driver, Matthew, and a couple of stable hands whom I trust. I don’t have any use for anyone else.”

“Then why in the world did you refuse my servants?” Victoria had never had a conniption before, but she was certain she felt the beginnings of one.

“I am not going to fill my house with people I don’t trust. Yes, I did have a grand mansion and a bevy of servants at one time, but that place was burnt down by your friend’s uncle. Then I was forced out of the country, and now, I have this.” He spread his arms to punctuate his speech.

“Well, you do not live alone anymore. And I need a maid. Who is to undress me?”

He gave a wolfish smile. “I can accomplish that task all by myself.”

“You are shameless.”

“I assure you, you are right.”

She turned away and paced the length of the room. “And where are you going to sleep?” There was a poignant silence in answer. She turned back to him to see a smug smile on his face. “If you think I am going to share a bed with you, you are sadly mistaken. I’d rather die!”

“I doubt you will die. I have some rugs; you can always sleep on the floor.”

“Ah!” She gasped, her hands fisted by her sides. “You are despicable.”