Free Marigold Chain by Stella Riley

I,’
he asked sweetly, ‘supposed to be grateful?’
    ‘ No.
You’re supposed to tell me if you are betrothed – or the
equivalent.’
    Faster than she
would have thought possible, he was across the room and leaning his
hands on the chair-back beside her.
    ‘ You are
either very tactless or indulging in a fit of female curiosity – or
both. But you should have stuck with Matt. You might have found him
easier game.’ He drew a sharp breath. ‘I won’t be interrogated or
discussed – in fact, I’ve a strong dislike of both. Do I make
myself clear?’
    Chloë said
weakly, ‘I was trying to be helpful.’
    ‘ Well,
don’t. I can arrange my life without outside assistance. And though
I’m obliged to you for the Self-Denying Ordinance, I’m not
particularly impressed by sacrificial gestures. Especially when
they’re unnecessary.’
    Rather pale but
capable once more of meeting fire with fire, Chloë said
witheringly, ‘I see. Do I applaud, say thank you or cast myself
down the nearest well?’
    ‘ The
choice,’ replied Mr Deveril, coldly, ‘is yours. What you not do is make any more attempts to
organise my existence. Our marriage, as you said yourself, is only
on paper.’
    She suddenly
felt rather angry.
    ‘ You
don’t need to remind me – and you needn’t be afraid that I shall
try to change it. With an annulment pending, your privacy and your
bed are both quite safe from me.’
    Alex raised one
mocking brow and surveyed her from head to foot until she flushed
to the roots of her hair.
    ‘ My dear
girl,’ he said carefully unlocking each syllable, ‘I don’t need
your assurance of it. You won’t invade my privacy because you won’t
be given the opportunity; and as for my bed … I believe it’s usual
to wait until you are asked.’
    *
    The meal, which
Matt shared with them, was not a success. Mr Deveril delivered an
acid diatribe on the subject of well-meaning interference to which
neither of his listeners felt any desire to contribute. Chloë began
by envying Mr Lewis his ability to let it flow over him without
showing any more reaction than a deaf-mute and ended by wishing she
could sink into the floor. When they had finished eating, she rose
thankfully to clear the board only to be pressed back into her seat
by Matt’s large hand on her shoulder.
    ‘ Sit
down, Mistress,’ he said tersely. ‘I’ll take care of this. You
might as well stay there and see what you’ve taken on.’ He glanced
at Mr Deveril and added, ‘Ashton was out. I’ll maybe try later.’
And picking up the plates, he stumped out.
    Chloë was left
uncomfortably facing her husband who, mercifully, had stopped
talking and was watching her sardonically.
    ‘ Well?
Are you lost in admiration of my loquacity or debating whether or
not to fly the coop?’
    ‘ Neither,’ she returned shortly. ‘If you really want to know,
I was thinking a tongue like yours could start a small
war.’
    The blue eyes
lost their baleful gleam. For a moment, Mr Deveril contemplated her
in silence and then, against all expectation, he said, ‘I
apologise. I don’t suppose the situation is any easier for you but
at least you’ve retained a sense of proportion. It was unfair of me
to reward it with ill-temper.’
    Chloë smiled a
little. ‘Perhaps it’s a bad time?’
    ‘ You
could say that. At the moment, it feels like total bloody disaster
– most of which is entirely my own fault. The only consolation is
that I rarely make the same mistake twice … unless you favour
polygyny?’
    ‘ Only,’
she said firmly, ‘when I can’t get cloves.’
    His brows
soared and he said amicably, ‘I’d say you’ve a fairly smart mouth
of your own, Marigold. However – let us address the practicalities.
As you’ll have realised, this is a lodging house so the
accommodation is somewhat limited but I believe we can get round
the problem. You take my room, Matt will remove to an empty one on
the floor below and I’ll occupy his. That should preserve