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All of the things that had happened since he had found her, his anger had ebbed.
And she was beginning to grow accustomed to him. More than that, even.
She reached toward him, and he jerked back. “I’m fine,” he said.
“Oh. You seem... I...”
“Do not worry about me. I’m not worth your concern.”
“You’re not ready for this,” she said.
“Who are you to tell me what I’m ready for?”
“The woman who has been living in your home these past two weeks. Do you remember how to dance? There will be dancing, you mentioned that.”
“Do you know how to dance?” he asked.
“I do,” she said. “My father made certain that I was apprised of all the necessary social graces for... Well I suppose it was for me to become somebody’s wife when the time came. It was just beneficial to me to ignore it.”
None of that life had been for her.
She had felt privileged. To not be like Rose. To not be a maid.
She had not been occupied with doing work, her life had seemed easy, and it had seemed indulgent. But it was never forher.
Much like now.
She had been collected, and she might have been anyone.
For some reason that hurt. Sharp and painful in her chest.
“I’m certain that I remember how,” he said.
“And will there be a dinner? You will be expected to sit and make conversation.”
“That’s why I have you.”
“I cannot make all the conversation for you. How will you tell people we met?”
“That I found you in a hut on my property.”
“You can’t do that,” she said. “I have only ever been one place in my entire life, and even I know that you can’t do that.”
“You make too many demands,” he said.
“I have been made your prisoner. How is it that I’m too demanding? You’re the one who decided everything needed to be difficult.”
“Fine. Then we will prepare. Your way.”
“One thing you prove to me for certain today is that you need more practice dealing with people. Turning tables is not going to help win you any favors whether you show up with a wife or not.” She frowned. “Why do you need a wife?”
“Look at me,” he said.
She tilted her chin up and looked him full in the face. “I am.”
“Be honest with me. Do you think anyone would look at me and see anything but an object of pity?”
“Perhaps it’s because you were yelling at me, but I do not pity you.”
