by Wolf, Bree
Adelaide swallowed, and yet, the lump in her throat would not move. Again, she saw kindness in him as well as vulnerability, and it made her heart ache. What had made him reveal this weakness to her−a stranger! −of all people?
Would she be a fool to dare and trust him in return?
If only she knew.
Chapter Eighteen – The Meaning of Anger
Indecision rested in her blue eyes, and Matthew all but held his breath.
Although his muscles trembled with the truth he had just shared with her, he held himself still, knowing that sudden movements frightened her. And so, he held her gaze, felt it sweep over him, study him. He saw temptation come to her eyes, sending a jolt of hope to his heart, before fear once more chased it away.
Matthew had seen how close she was to the women in her family, but had no man ever proved himself worthy of her trust? Certainly not her father to be sure. But what of her brother?
Despite a period of estrangement, his cousins Tristan and Henrietta had always been close, sharing with each other what they would not share with the rest of the world. Always had Matthew envied them, wondering what it would have been like to have had a brother or sister.
The room had grown still around them, and when she spoke, Matthew almost flinched at the sound of her voice. “Your anger frightens me.” The moment these words left her lips, she clasped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide with shock as she took a step backwards, seeking cover.
Matthew nodded, fighting the urge to step closer and offer comfort, knowing she would not see it as such. “I can understand how that might make you fearful,” he said calmly. “However, my anger stemmed from fear for your safety, your well-being. I was afraid your father would harm you. I only sought to protect you, not harm him or anyone else.”
Her eyes dropped from his, and he could see that she contemplated his words. Her brows drew down into a frown as she lifted her gaze to meet his once more. “But…?” She broke off, and her eyes travelled downward and came to linger on his right hand.
Seeing the direction of her gaze, Matthew lifted his hand, seeing the faint bruising on his knuckles. Air rushed from his lungs as he understood. “These are not from a fight,” he explained. “These are from a boxing match, nothing more but a friendly competition. I swear it.”
Her blue eyes returned to his. “Why do you box?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “Is it not a sign of anger? To hurt someone?” The moment she had finished, her gaze once more dropped to the floor as though it had taken all her courage merely to ask what was on her mind.
Matthew sighed, “I admit that anger was the reason why I started boxing, but I never allow it to fuel my actions. Boxing is…” Inhaling deeply, he searched for a way to explain. “Anger has a way of settling into your bones. It lingers, and if you let it, it will harden your heart. I find it liberating to…push myself, my body to extremes. It clears my head and unburdens my heart for I do not wish to carry anger wherever I go. I’d rather let it go, and boxing is the only way I’ve discovered which accomplishes this for me.”
Although his words seemed to have calmed her, the look in her eyes spoke of incomprehension. “And so,” Matthew asked, “what do you do when you get angry? How do you deal with it?”
She blinked, and then she shook her head.
Matthew frowned. “You cannot tell me you never get angry?” His voice was light, and yet, filled with disbelief. Was anger a truly foreign concept to her? Did she truly only ever witness it in others? Did she never feel it herself? How was this possible?
“It serves no purpose,” she whispered. “It only brings pain. The world would be a better place without anger.”
Holding her gaze, Matthew exhaled loudly, taken aback by her confession. “I admit anger does not have the best reputation,” he admitted, “but it is not all bad. Anger tells us when something is important to us. It speaks of passion and even deep affection. Of course, it always needs to be tempered by reason and respect for others, but it does serve a purpose. It shows boundaries, defines them, allows others to see them.”
A smile curled up the corner of his mouth as Matthew glanced down at the tip of her shoes. “If I were to step on your toes while dancing, would that not upset you?” he asked, his voice teasing as he watched her carefully.
Frowning, his wife shook her head.
“Truly?” he asked, doubt in his voice as he smiled at her. “Would you not get upset? Or would you simply not show it?”
Staring up at him, she opened and closed her mouth a few times before he saw her gaze harden with decision. “I ignore these emotions. I−”
“But you feel them?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice stronger than it had been before. “But I’ve been ignoring them for so long that now I hardly ever feel them. Now, they’re only a mild echo of what they once were. An echo easily ignored.”
Staring at her, Matthew shook his head. “That is awful,” he said, unable to believe that she truly did not feel anger. In all likelihood, she had merely learnt to suppress it. What happened to someone if they spent a lifetime suppressing all they felt? “You must re-learn it, reacquaint yourself with these emotions.”
Stunned, she looked up at him, her lips moving before she could weigh her words. “Do you truly wish for me to be angry?”
Grinning, Matthew nodded vehemently, pleased that they were finally speaking to one another. Once again, he glanced down at the tip of her shoe before lifting his own and gently stepping onto hers. “Oops,” he said, a wide grin on his face, amazed at the lightness of heart he suddenly felt. It had been a long time since he had teased someone, and it felt utterly liberating. More so than any boxing match ever had.
His wife’s gaze widened as she looked at him, her face immobile. For a long time, they simply looked at one another trying to see the other for who they truly were before−out of nowhere−the right corner of her mouth gave a slight twitch.
By all means, it was not a smile, and no one would have called it thus. Nor was it the ghost of a smile. And yet, it was…something.
As though deep inside, her true self was still there, alive and kicking, fighting to break free, only held back by her iron will. Although she had always seemed fragile and delicate, Matthew realised that she was not. Indeed, she had a hidden strength, a strength that had allowed her to survive thus far and remain the kind-hearted woman she was. Somehow, she had been able to protect herself from the anger that surrounded her, not allow it to affect her, alter her, corrupt her.
Perhaps one day she would share her secret with him.
But for now, he would find a way to make her angry, to help her feel safe in order to be herself. If she could show him anger, Matthew knew there would be no reason for her to hold anything else back.
Still smiling at her, he held her gaze, his head lowering toward hers only a fraction. “I give you my word, my lady, that in the days to come I will strive to make you angry. Be prepared, for I can be relentless. I shall annoy you with everything at my disposal until you cannot bear to look at me any longer without yelling in my face.” Seeing her stunned expression, he laughed. “And that day shall be the day of my greatest triumph.”
After all, anger meant passion, and a life without passion was no life worth living.
Matthew sighed, wondering if teaching his wife to reclaim her anger as well as her passion would help him reclaim that piece of himself he had lost a long time ago. Perhaps they could help free each other with the burdens of their pasts. Perhaps this was the first step toward a shared future.
Matthew could not remember when he had last felt this hopeful.
Chapter Nineteen – A Changed Man
Over the next few days, Adelaide noticed a change in her husband’s demeanour.
In the beginning, while he had never acted unkind or intimidating, he had still always seemed tense. His gaze whenever it had sought hers had been hard and even pained. Adelaide could not recall ever having seen a smile curl up hi
s lips. In truth, he had seemed as miserable as she herself had felt, and Adelaide wondered how she could not have seen it.
Perhaps her fear of him, of what he might do, had blocked out everything else.
Now, he was no longer the same man he had been only a few days ago.
Now, whenever he saw her, whenever their eyes met, his own seemed to light up with such delight as though he were truly happy to see her, as though he had longed to see her. Still, a bit of a wicked smile always played on his lips, and every once in a while, he would wink at her as though they shared a most improper secret.
When he first had looked at her thus, Adelaide had almost fainted on the spot. Her heart had jumped a mile high, and her breath had been sucked from her lungs. She had stared at him with a rather dumbfounded expression on her face as her mind had raced to make sense of what her eyes were seeing. Never in her life had she encountered such a man.
It was quite unsettling.
And yet, as the days wore on and he continued to wink and smile at her, to tease her−for now there was no doubt in Adelaide’s mind that that was exactly what he was doing−Adelaide was shocked to find herself respond without thought. For despite his wicked smile, he never failed to treat her with the utmost respect. He always kept his distance, never invading her personal space. He spoke calmly and kindly, asking her opinion as they set to refurnishing the drawing room. He encouraged her to speak honestly, to say what was on her mind, and whenever they happened to disagree, Adelaide would hold her breath, expecting an angry outburst, while he would simply smile at her, suggesting flipping a coin.
In consequence, the drawing room now showed a rather interesting array of colours and fabrics, and yet, Adelaide could not bring herself to regret their choices. Whenever she set foot in it, she remembered their compromises fondly and found herself unable to keep from smiling when her mother and grandmother finally came to visit, their curious glances gliding around the room.
Judging from the sparkle in her grandmother’s eyes, Adelaide knew that the old woman suspected something. However, as Adelaide herself was still at a loss as to what was happening with her husband, she said not a word, ignoring her grandmother’s watchful eyes.
Over time, Adelaide slowly felt her unease dissipate, and before she even knew it, she was no longer actively avoiding her husband. However, what was most shocking to her was when she caught herself returning his smile one afternoon with a weak one of her own.
Seeing it, his eyes widened, and his own smile deepen in such a way, that Adelaide shrank back, shocked at her own response.
“Don’t ever hide your smile,” her husband had whispered before he had walked away, once more allowing her the room she needed.
Closing her eyes, Adelaide had sagged back against the wall behind her, inhaling a deep breath as her emotions ran rampant in her heart. Had he not promised to make her angry? She wondered. Now, instead, he was making her smile. What was he thinking? Was there a plan involved? What exactly did he hope to achieve with it?
Adelaide’s mind raced as she tried her best to make sense of her husband’s odd behaviour, wondering if she would ever find out. Finally, she got her answer one afternoon as she sat reading in the library.
Snuggled into one of the tall-backed armchairs, she quickly found her thoughts absorbed by the words on the page before her. She did not hear him approach, and her heart skipped a beat or two when the book was suddenly yanked from her hands.
Air rushed from her lungs, and Adelaide pushed to her feet and found her husband standing behind her chair, flipping leisurely through her book as her own heart hammered wildly in her chest. “My lord?”
Looking up, he grinned at her, then closed the book.
Adelaide swallowed as his eyes lingered on hers. “I did not hear you enter.”
A teasing twinkle came to his eyes as he took a step toward her. “Does that upset you? Would you wish for me to announce myself when entering a room?”
Although Adelaide could see that his words were not meant as true criticism or even a threat, she could not help the sudden tension that rose in her body. Whenever her father had spoken to her thus, he had been the one dissatisfied with something she had done.
As her pulse hammered in her veins, Adelaide forced herself to remember her husband’s promise. He wished to anger her for a reason she still could not understand, and so she decided to answer his question honestly. “Not at all.”
The delight in his eyes dimmed, and she could tell that he was dissatisfied with her answer. Still, he did no more but return his gaze to the book in his hands, leisurely flipping through it once more. “This is a good book,” he commented, apparently unaware that he was holding it upside down. “I’ve read it at least three times.” His eyes rose to meet hers as he closed the cover. “I can’t seem to get enough of it. You should finish it.” Holding it out to her, he held her gaze.
Deep down, Adelaide knew that something was up. There was a strange gleam in his eyes that she had not seen there before, and she wondered what it was that he hoped she would do. Still, as silence began to linger, she could not think of anything else to do but take the book he offered.
Stepping forward, Adelaide reached out. However, the moment her fingers expected to feel the book’s leather binding, her husband once more snapped it away, holding it out of her reach.
Staring at him, Adelaide blinked.
Her husband, however, seemed to have trouble suppressing a grin. “It truly is a good book. Perhaps I ought to read it yet again. What do you think?” His eyes widened then as though he had suddenly realised something. “Oh, I apologise. I forgot that you were right in the middle of it. I can wait. Here, you take it.” Extending his arm, he held the book out to her once more.
Adelaide felt her eyes narrow as she looked at him, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that if she were to reach for it again, he would tug it out of her reach once more. “Keep it, my lord. If it means this much to you, you should read it.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” he replied, taking a step closer until the book’s edge almost touched her hand. “It is yours. I insist.” His green eyes held hers with such an intensity that Adelaide could almost feel their caress. And yet, there was a challenge in them.
Beginning to feel annoyed with his game, Adelaide gritted her teeth. Then quick as lightning her hand flew forward. Her fingertips brushed the book’s binding, but she could not grasp it as her husband yanked it away again.
Delight lit up his eyes and he laughed. “You’re quick,” he complimented her. “I barely saw your intention before you moved.”
Inhaling a slow breath, Adelaide tried to still her trembling hands, belatedly realising that it was not fear which had caused the slight tremor in them. “As a boxer, I suppose your reflexes must be good,” she commented, taking a step back…refusing the challenge.
Unwilling to let her escape, her husband closed the distance between them. “They must be indeed.” Then he once more held out the book to her.
Adelaide sighed, “Why are you doing this?” she asked, glancing down at the book. “You must admit that this is rather childish.”
“It certainly is,” he agreed, a wide smile on his face as he leaned forward confidentially. “And no one knows better how to give their emotions free rein than children, wouldn’t you agree?”
Adelaide swallowed as an image of Tillie rose in her mind and her heart immediately ached with longing. Over the past weeks, she had forced herself not to think of the little girl, knowing it would only be all the harder to say goodbye to her if she did so.
“So, you want me to reach for the book again?” she asked, trying to determine what goal he had in mind.
“Yes.”
“And then?”
He shrugged.
Adelaide sighed, “I don’t understand why you would−?” Breaking off mid-sentence, she shot forward…and almost collided with his chest when he moved the book sideways.
Her husband laughed, “That was q
uite clever of you and rather sly. I would never have thought you had it in you to deceive others.”
Adelaide froze staring up at him. “I didn’t−”
“You certainly did,” he objected, that increasingly annoying grin still on his face. “You acted as though you had no intention of retrieving the book, and then when you thought me distracted, you reached for it.”
Clamping her mouth shut, Adelaide inhaled a slow breath, feeling a rather unfamiliar emotion stirring in her body. “Fine, if you will not return it, then neither will I try to retrieve it. There.”
Leaning forward, her husband looked at her, his eyes travelling over her face. “You’re angry,” he observed, his eyes twinkling with delight.
“I’m not!” Trying to relax her shoulders, Adelaide held his gaze, wondering how on earth they had ended up in this ridiculous situation.
“Then prove it,” he dared her, lifting the book so she could see it. “Take it.”
“I don’t understand how that would prove anything,” Adelaide countered, surprised by her own bravery to contradict him. Had she lost her mind? Years of experience had taught her how not to anger a man. What on earth was she doing? This was a game she could not win.
“Well, it’s either or,” her husband concluded with a quietly patient demeanour that was getting hard to ignore. “Take the book or yell at me.”
“Even if I were to yell at you, it would not mean I was angry. I−”
“Then do it,” he dared, his gaze hardening on hers as he leaned forward as though unwilling to allow even the subtlest of her facial responses to slip by him. “Yell at me. Berate me for teasing you because we both know exactly what I’m doing here. You can’t deny that!”
“I’m not. I simply−”
“Then yell at me.”
“No!” she snapped, feeling her blood begin to boil.