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“Tia?” I ask by way of greeting.
“Out in the garden, I believe, sir.”
Something in his tone catches my interest, but I set that aside to think about later. Right now, I’m on a mission. With a nod, I straighten my suit coat and head toward the balcony beyond the ballroom.
Her soft, melodic laugh catches my ear as soon as I step out onto the terrace, and I turn in the direction of the sound. It’s gentle and feminine, and it reminds me of the smart, innocent girl I met a few months ago.
A sliver of jealousy needles its way into my chest as I wonder who might be making her laugh. But as I reach the stairs to look out over the gravel walkway, I’m stunned by what I see.
Tia’s on her hands and knees, dirt covering her fine clothes as she digs in the garden alongside two of the groundskeepers. The woman beside her chatters happily, scarcely coming up for air as she tells some outlandish story. The smile on Tia’s face is warm and soft, her happiness sincere as she sets a flower into the hole she’s dug and scoops the earth back around it, tamping it down gently.
I rush down the steps, making a beeline toward my wife, who seems completely oblivious to her inappropriate behavior. Or perhaps she doesn’t care. Whatever the case, I fully intend to correct her on it.
“Tia!” Reaching her, I grasp her arm and pull her up off the ground, bringing her to her feet.
She stumbles into me, her palms finding my chest in an attempt to balance herself because I handled her too roughly. Clenching my teeth in frustration, I soften my grip, trying to steady her without doing more harm.
“What do you think you’re doing, rolling around in the dirt with the help?” I ask once she’s firmly on her own two feet. “It’s completely inappropriate.”
The gardeners shrink away from us, silent as they stare up at me in shock, and when I glance their way, they quickly drop their eyes, busying themselves with their work once more.
“I was gardening,” she says, her voice immediately defensive as she yanks her arm from my grasp. She peers up at me with guarded eyes, her laughter of a moment before, gone.
“Why?” I demand, looking her up and down.
Dirt darkens her fingernails and mars her creamy skin. She even has a smudge on her chin, and my fingers itch to wipe it away. But I restrain myself, confident she doesn’t want me touching her right now.
“Because I would prefer to do something useful with my time than wander around the grounds any longer, and since I’m not allowed to leave, you can hardly judge me for doing what I can with the limited options available.” Her onyx eyes flash passionately as her hands land on her hips, her body language telling me she’s gearing up for war.
I straighten as I study her delicate features in her sudden fury. I like this side of Tia, the outspoken young woman who’s not afraid to say it like it is.
“What do you care if I get dirty?” she continues, her voice scathing. “It washes off easy enough—far better than blood, I’d wager. And at least I’m doing some good, trying to add beauty back into the world. I’m not hurting anybody. So, what’s so terrible about planting a few flowers, even if it’s beneath me? That’s far better than the butchering you’ve most likely performed this morning.”
Taken aback by her sharp tongue and willingness to speak her mind, for a moment, I’m left speechless. But I’m also unable to argue with her reasoning. And as she glares up at me, I let my shoulders relax.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have thought about how you might have to fill your time.”
Tia falters, seeming surprised that I would have it in me to apologize. “Well… perhaps you could at least give me a car or allow my sisters to visit.”
Her tone is grudgingly accepting of my apology as her arms cross defensively over her chest.
Such a simple request. I would have granted her far more to keep her out of the dirt and behaving more appropriately as my wife. “Done,” I agree readily.
Again, Tia seems startled, and her arms drop as her perfectly shaped brows press into a frown. “Really?”
The simple question brings me back to the night I first met her, and I can’t help but smile. “You doubt me?”
Her expression tells me she recognizes the line immediately, and she does not look happy. Instead, hurt flashes across her face, quickly followed by resentment. “Can you blame me?”
Touche.
Sighing, I hang my head as I nod, giving a moment to acknowledge the injury I caused. Then I raise my eyes to give her a grave look. “I mean it, Tia. I’ll hire you a car and driver, and your sisters are welcome to come here whenever you want them to visit—and stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
I give a single nod. Then I glance down the pathway. “Will you walk with me?”
Confusion washes across her features before she quickly dons her mask of passive complacency. “Okay. Sure,” she agrees.
