It was a beautiful portraiture of a couple. Clasping her hands under her chin, Georgiana sighed. The woman seated in the chair gazed at her with what she believed was peace and contentment. Then there was the man standing over her with a hand on the back of her chair. Instead of looking out, he gazed down at the woman with what could only be described as utter adoration.
“What is this?”
She whirled around, eager to share her accomplishments. But her excitement died down at once. Keeping the smile on her face was a struggle as she wondered if she had somehow made another mistake.
It was Owen. And he did not look happy. He furrowed his brow. It was more than that brooding expression she had grown used to—it seemed to be something else.
“I’ve been redecorating,” she reminded him. “It should be a home as much as it is a house. This picture should do nicely here, wouldn’t you agree? They must be your family…” she trailed off as she glanced between him and the portrait again. Her heart skipped a beat.
While she had figured out that the couple had to be his relations, only now did she make the connection. He had the woman’s angular face but his father’s eyes and height.
“My parents,” he murmured. She watched, stunned and still, as his face darkened. “I didn’t think I would see this again.”
And here I had been hoping he had forgotten about them and would be pleased.
“It must be nice to see them again,” she offered when she could think of nothing else to say.
His glower turned toward her. “You found them in the attic, didn’t you? You shouldn’t have gone in there, Georgiana. You had no right.”
“No right?” she sputtered.
“They were put away for a reason!” He reached forward and pulled the painting down. She gaped, her work this morning all gone. There was a giant gap on the wall now. She stared at it before turning back to her husband.
Owen was marching down the hall as fast as he could, with the painting in his arms. Georgiana hurried after him, not willing to let this go without an argument.
“This is ridiculous. They are your parents. They should be on display! And this is my house, too,Your Grace. I can go wherever I like. You can’t tell me one thing only to change your mind!”
Pushing open the doors to his study, he set the painting inside and then faced her. “I can do as I like.”
Then he closed the doors in her face.
Georgiana balled her hands into fists, unable to believe it. Her frustration mounted and turned into a furious rage. Staring down the doors, she considered everything that had happened. Her father had wanted to marry her off. The man who agreed to marry her had changed his mind.
And then in came Owen like a hero, a knight in shining armor. A knight who didn’t want anything to do with her. Every time she made an attempt to please him––redecorating the house, managing the servants, keeping out of his way––she managed to do it wrong because of his say-so.
I can’t do anything right around him. Anything! He won’t let me. What more do I need to do? I cannot win his affection, I can’t even win his attention. Every time he looks my way, he seems to grow upset. But he is the one who picked me. He is the one who chose to marry me!
She hadn’t stepped foot into his study before. It was like the greenhouse, a place she wasn’t meant to be. That was a lesson she had learned long ago with her father—a study was a man’s private space away from everything and everyone else.
“Not anymore,” Georgiana huffed and pushed the doors open.
One of them banged against the wall. She cringed when Owen whirled around to face her. He glared at her, crossing his arms.
“You’re rude,” she announced. Her heart hammered so loudly in her chest that it was all she could hear. There had to be something more she should say, but those were the only words she could think of. “Very rude.”
He stepped forward. “Did you have to barge into my office to tell me that?”
“I did.” Gathering her strength, she nodded. “It was time I told you so.”
Staring at her for a minute, he said nothing. Owen suddenly nodded. Just once. “Is that all?”
“No.” The words came a little easier to her now. “You’ve been rude to me, and I’m not interested in continuing our marriage in the same run of things. I’ve had enough of your odd moods, Owen. All I’ve done is attempt to make this a better home for all of us. I have tried to be kind and courteous to you as well?—”
“By kicking in doors,” he scoffed.
Her nostrils flared. Moving closer, she nodded. “It’s better than what you have been doing! Because you have done nothing. Absolutely nothing! It’s childish, and I’m not interested in being with a childish man.”
This time, he didn’t speak as she caught her breath. Georgiana ignored the deep rise and fall of her chest, though she noted his eyes glanced down once or twice. She didn’t know what to expect of him. After all that had happened lately, she wouldn’t be too surprised if he cast her out. There was probably some miserable dower house he could send her off to whenever he liked.
