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“And whose fault is that?”

She was even more upset with him than he had thought. The way she looked at him, the antipathy that she directed at him, hehad no doubt that she hated him. Worse than that, he could not blame her.

The other night, he had been caught by surprise by her sudden appearance. And then caught further by surprise by the way she had acted… and his reaction to it. He had wanted to get her out of his room, needing some distance so that he could cool down and hopefully remind himself what this marriage was supposed to be. But in his haste, he had hurt her, and then he left her for a week so that hurt would fester.

She was being rude to him, and while Frederick wanted nothing more than to assert his position because he did not appreciate being spoken to like this, he realized that for now, that might not be the best option.

“Can we start again?” he sighed.

“No, I do not think?—”

“I am trying to apologize,” he snapped, to which she balked. “But you are making it next to impossible.”

“Apologize?” She narrowed her eyes, as if looking for the trick. “What for?”

“For the other night, the way I acted and…” He sighed and attempted to look regretful. “And for the things I said. I spoke in haste and rather rudely, and I realize now that some of the things I said might have been misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” she scoffed. “It was rather hard to misunderstand anything you said. From what I remember, you were perfectly clear in explaining that our marriage is to be solely one of convenience.Yourconvenience,” she hissed. “You do not want anything to do with me. I might as well be a houseplant for how you spoke.”

“I did not mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?” She raised a warning eyebrow at him, the look on her face suggesting that no matter what he said, she would not listen.

“You are right about one thing,” he began carefully, struggling to look into her eyes and not at her body. “I do wish for this to be a marriage of convenience—but that is not a bad thing,” he hurried to add before she could cut him off. “My marriage to your cousin, Miss Gouldsmith, was supposed to be the same. A perfectly natural arrangement.”

“You made it sound a little more than that.”

“I am not marrying for love,” he continued, still trying to meet her rueful gaze. “Nor should you expect me to. And nor do I expect the same from you. Considering how this arrangement came to be, I cannot imagine that was even a consideration.”

She opened her mouth to argue but bit her tongue as the obviousness of what he said sank in. “Still,” she snapped, “it is one thing not to marry for love and another to tell your wife-to-be that you don’t want to so much as touch her…”

“Is that what you want?” Frederick could not help but smirk. “For me to touch you?”

Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks flushed. “N-no!”

“No?” He chuckled.

“I mean—what I meant was, marriage is more than just a man and a woman living together. There are…” Again, her cheeks flushed such that her entire face turned red, and she had no choice but to look away. “There are expectations.”

“Touching, you mean?” His eyes flicked over her suggestively, lingering on her body just long enough that he caught himself, realized what he was doing, and looked away.

She forced herself to look at him, leveling him with a glare. “Is marriage not a means to produce children? An heir! And unless you know another way to do it, then yes, touching is part of the expectations.”

Frederick studied her for a moment as a sudden realization dawned on him. Clearly, she was angry at him for what he had said. And clearly, she did not like the idea of being treated as a near stranger in his house. But was it possible she wanted more from this marriage than even that? Was it possible that she… that she wanted him?

“Your expectations, perhaps,” he said slowly. “Not mine.”

“And why not? Why are you so insistent on avoiding me?”

“I am not here to justify myself,” he scoffed. “And if I had known how desperate you were for my touch, I might not have bothered.”

“I did not say that!”

Oh, she was fiery. A storm in a teacup, the way she simmered and stewed. And while that might have turned him off, for some reason, it sparked a sense of excitement in him. He had met many well-bred ladies before, most of whom were proper and boring and not worth his time because he did not wish to pursue someone who bored him. What was the point?

“Can we please do away with the pageantry?” Frederick sighed, opting for a slightly different approach.

“Excuse me?!”