Page 36 of His Bride

“I’m not stupid. I made a little mistake.”

“You made a mistake that could have serious consequences. It had consequences for Emmaline Carpenter. I don’t know why Arthur hasn’t lectured you for it. You need lecturing.”

“I don’t think it is for you to say what I do or do not need. I answer to my husband, not you.”

“You’re quite literally in my guardianship.”

I don’t know why she is talking to me this way. She can’t do anything to me. She can’t touch me. I’m not scared of her.

I am scared of her; I just don’t want to be. I am married now, and I am tired of living in the shadow of one woman or another. My mother and Maraline were always telling me what to do. I don’t want Lydia replacing them. That comment about me being silly to have snorted the Soma could have come directly from Maraline’s mouth.

“I am his wife! And you are my guard! You do as I say!”

Next thing I know, my butt is hitting the floor. I don’t know how, but she just dropped me on my ass while barely touching me. She doesn’t seem to have moved at all. I don’t know how the hell she did that. Magic, maybe?

I look up at her from my position on the floor, and I think of the scariest, worst thing I could say.

“I’m going to tell on you!”

I hate that the first words out of my mouth are a completely childish threat.

The smirk that appears on her lips tells me I sound just as pathetic to her, maybe even more so.

Arthur

I can hear Mila and Lydia disagreeing in the dining room. My bride might have discovered one of this apartment’s secrets, but there are many more. I chuckle to myself at her impudence, knowing that Lydia will not tolerate it.

I could go out there and tell my bride to respect Lydia, and tell Lydia to be nicer to my bride, but I know they will do better to sort these matters out on their own.

“You’re a bully,” Mila complains.

“I’m a bodyguard,” Lydia replies.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of guarding me by pushing me around, are you? You know what? I am going to tell on you.”

I compose myself behind my desk and wait for the inevitable arrival of my young bride. I can hear her coming down the hall, stomping loudly all the way.

“I want a new bodyguard!” she says, bursting through the door. “She pushed me over because I told her…”

Mila pauses when she realizes that what she actually said was Lydia had to do as she said, and quite obviously that’s not the case, because Lydia does asIsay.

“She pushed me over,” she repeats herself, finishing the sentence there.

“Do you want me to fight all your battles for you, my sweet bride? Should I perhaps invest in a nursemaid, rather than a bodyguard?”

Her cheeks flare red with embarrassment and annoyance, as she realizes that not only am I not going to side with her, I am in complete agreement with Lydia.

“Someone needs to ensure you stay safe. You’ve shown very little capacity for keeping yourself in one piece so far.”

She has no idea how gentle my words are relative to her sins. I am known for my ability to deliver a tongue lashing like no other. This is barely a little verbal nudge.

“You told me to go with the damn woman,” Mila says. “I don’t know why you set me up to fail that way. Is this what you people do? Put others in danger and then blame them when things go wrong? I trusted that you had told me to go with a nice woman.”

She has a point, a good point.

“You’re right,” I admit. “I did not believe Ms. Carpenter would put you in harm’s way in that fashion. I have never been in the ladies’ lounge, for reasons that are most likely abundantly clear.”

It feels good calling the erstwhile Duchess Emmaline Carpenter, Ms. Carpenter. It feels less good listening to my bride’s response.