Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

B eth thought that her husband was making some sort of ill-timed joke about table manners, and the truth was that a servant had forgotten to bring him utensils, but as food began to come out, she realized it was completely serious.

He was eating with his hands.

It was not the only manner that he seemed to miss that was typical for an aristocrat such as himself, but it was the first to catch her eye. The second that his voice was entirely too loud for dinner. It was as though she was in the next room, rather than a few mere feet away.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I was looking into the state of things with the war, and while I am not one to strategize, I believe we could be through with it all soon.”

“The war?”

She hadn’t asked because she wished to know more. She had asked out of surprise, for it was hardly a topic of conversation that a lady was meant to hear.

“Yes, the war. You ladies are made aware that we are at war, are you not?”

“Yes, of course, but is now the time to discuss that?”

“It is important to be educated, especially when it is a war such as the one we are currently in with France. It affects us all, you know. Villages have their men leave for a long time, forever in the worst cases, and then it is harder for them to do what they must do in their day to day lives. Some come back injured, some don’t come back at all. It is appalling.”

It was, indeed, appalling, which was precisely why Beth tried not to listen and instead focus on eating, but her husband was speaking too loudly for her to ignore him.

“Of course, the economy will also take time to recover,” he continued, “Which is not helped by that Prince Regent and his lifestyle choices.”

She murmured at this, which he seemed to take as permission to continue. Beth tried not to groan; this was precisely what she had asked for, was it not? She had wanted a dinner with her husband, and in spite of how outlandish he was being, he did not seem to be doing it on purpose to make her regret asking for it in the first place.

“Now, one might see it as treasonous to discuss a future king in such a manner, but I would have to disagree. If one cannot comment on the situations that we find ourselves in, then what sort of life is that? Surely the prince is not such a coward that he cannot handle a little criticism?”

“I’m quite sure he would survive it, yes,” she said firmly, “My, this is delicious! I shall tell Cook when I see her that this is one of my favorites, I think.”

“It is better when she serves it with potatoes.”

“Then we can tell her that we would enjoy that, too.”

She disagreed, if she were being honest, but at least it was a more proper topic of discussion.

“Is something the matter?” He asked.

“Well, not as such, but… Yes. It astounds me that you carry yourself in such a manner.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Beth looked at him pointedly, chicken leg held up to his mouth with a smear of sauce on his lips.

“How else are you supposed to eat these things? It is a waste of time trying to carefully carve around when I can pick it up. We have hands for that exact purpose.”

“We also have grace and decorum for a purpose, My Lord.”

“And what might that purpose be? Impressing others? I am perfectly happy to do without all of that, especially in my own home.”

He had a point, but Beth did not like it all the same. It was vulgar, and not at all the standard she held herself to.

“I do not mean to say this is any way that angers you,” she said gently, “But this is also my home, now.”

“For a year.”

“Yes, but even so that is a year during which I would like to be comfortable.”

“You have changed every aspect of this household for your comfort. You should be pleased enough with that.”

“Very well,” she sighed, deciding to avoid his gaze entirely so that eating was at least possible.

“Have you always been like this?” He asked after a while.

“Like what?”

“So prim and proper.”

“It has always been expected of me, so I would say so, yes.”

“That sounds terribly boring. Are you allowed to think for yourself at all, or do you simply follow a little rulebook?”

“Given the circumstances of our marriage, one might think that you would know the answer to that.”

“I suppose, but I would also consider that to be a single moment in an otherwise perfect life, where you have never once been a disappointment of any kind to anyone. Would I be correct in saying that?”

Beth bristled at that. She had no intentions of revealing the truth to him, but she could not bear the thought of him thinking she was some perfect and spoiled girl that had had one act of rebellion.

“You would be incorrect,” she replied quietly, “But that is none of your concern. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to have my dinner in peace.”

“You asked me to join you!”

“Yes, I did, but that was before I knew how vulgar you can be if you decide to.”

“That is hardly fair. I am known as a brute. Surely you had some expectations of me based on that?”

“Is that what you are doing?” She asked, “Are you behaving like this to prove those people right? I would have thought you would instead try to prove yourself to be a man worthy of your title, given that that is what all of this is for.”

“There is no escaping what I am. I am from a backwards place with very little dignity, as far as they are all concerned, so why would I be any different?”

“Do you think that I see Scotland that way?”

He was quiet for a moment, and Beth wondered what was going through his mind.

“Do you think that people see Scotland as some land of the forgotten?” She continued, “Where the people are hardly people at all? My Lord, I hope that is not the case, because it would be highly reductive to us. We are not fools, and we are well aware that people from Scotland are people.”

“It is how I have been treated, and so it is more likely to me that it is a general attitude towards my people. It would be quite selfish to believe that they were only concerned with me. The world does not revolve around who I am, I know that much.”

“Then why do you think they dislike you?”

“The very same reason that you do, whatever that may be.”

“I do not dislike you.”

He fell silent at that, and Beth reveled in her small triumph. It had been the truth, after all.

“You do not like me,” he sighed.

“I think you are unkempt,” she confessed, “And you do not think before you speak, and you are highly improper, but that is not to say that I dislike you. You are, above all, someone with a very kind heart. You are misguided, but that does not make you a villain. I have never once accused you of being one, so for you to think I have done so hurts me.”

“You might not have said it, but I can see it. I can see when you look at me that you wish there had been some other way through your life without saddling yourself with someone so awful as myself. Am I not correct in saying that?”

“You are not.”

“Then what do you think?”

“My thoughts are for myself and nobody else, My Lord. It is improper for me to tell people what I think of them.”

“And so you will keep any unsavory thoughts of me to yourself, is that it?”

“I try to, but if you are to insist on it then I will tell you what I truly do think of you, as I did moments ago. I am not a weak little thing, but there is a fine line to walk if you do not wish to be seen as cruel.”

“Is it worth it to you, if it comes with a cost?”

“Yes.” She nodded firmly, “If it means that I am liked, and I can go through my life without too many hardships, then yes. It is easier to be good and kind, and so that is what I will do. I do not understand why you cannot do the same.”

Silence fell once more, and when she went to eat she realized that she had finished. It was her cue to leave the room, with the discussion being over with as well as the meal, but as she rose from her seat he joined her.

“Join me for a drink, will you?”

He was smirking at her, a lopsided grin that went up to his eyes. It was boyish, almost, and Beth hated how well it worked on her.

“I am tired, My Lord.”

“Just the one?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling too. How did he have this effect on her? She had always been good at holding her tongue, but he was drawing something else entirely out of her and she did not know whether it was safe or not.

“So,” he said as he poured her a drink in the parlor room, “Would you like to know the truth?”

“It would be nice,” she nodded, taking the glass of amber liquid from him.

“Then take a drink. I wouldn’t sip it, if I were you. It burns more.”

“Burns?” She asked, “What is this?”

“Drink it first, and then I shall tell you. All in one, just as I said.”

She eyed him carefully. He was strange, but she doubted that he would go so far as to poison her. With one fluid motion, she tipped the contents into her mouth and swallowed, immediately feeling that burn in her throat.

“Oh!” She exclaimed before screwing up her face, “That is awful.”

“It becomes bearable after a while, pleasant even.”

“It is dreadful. Are you trying to cause me harm?”

“It is harmless, so long as you do not overindulge,” he laughed.

“I would never call that stuff indulgent! Why do you men do this to yourselves?”

“I shall have you know that this is the drink of my people, and it is the one thing you Londoners seemed to get right even here. It makes everything else almost tolerable. Almost.”

She scoffed at him, pushing the glass away.

“Very well. I had the drink, and now you must tell me everything.”

“I didn’t say I would tell you everything. I promised you the truth, namely as to why I have such a distaste for the place you grew up in.”

“For my people.”

“Not all of them! For example, you are English, and I find you interesting, especially when you are yourself and not the stuffy young lady you were forced to be.”

“I was not forced!”

“Were you not?”

“Well… I was not forced with any threats per se. I simply knew that if I did not fall in line, then I would not marry and become a spinster, and I had to be more than that for the sake of my family.”

“We are matched in that respect. I would have gladly been the owner of an inn in Glasgow all of my life, living without all of this, but my sisters deserve better than that.”

“Then you understand,” she pointed out, “We are not forced by anyone but ourselves.”

“That does not mean that we have to do everything perfectly out of fear of rejection by the other members of the ton. I do not understand why you bend so easily.”

“Because it gives one an easier life, and a happier one at that.”

“Would you honestly say that you are happier than I am?”

“I am not sure. Are you?”

But Beth was, in truth, quite confident of her answer. Of course he was; he had not been subjected to the criticism of society all of his life like she had been, constantly under watch by people waiting for her to fail. It had been an exhausting life, only made worse by the fact that she had eventually disappointed them all.

She turned to Adam, who seemed just as unsure of how to answer as she had been. He was a handsome man, beneath all of his brooding and self-confidence that bordered on egotistical. She felt a camaraderie to him– he had not chosen his life any more than she had chosen her own, after all.

“Is this what you do every night?” She asked, when he did not answer her other question.

“Most nights, yes. I rather enjoy taking the time to myself to do as I please. If what pleases me is a whiskey, then so be it.”

“I’ve never had one before tonight, and I cannot say that it was particularly pleasant.”

“I know a way to make it that will be a little more pleasant to you. I can make it for you sometime.”

“I suppose there is no harm in trying it. However, if you give me one of those dreaded headaches that afflicted my mother, I may well not be able to forgive you.”

“Then the matter is settled. In the meantime, perhaps you and I might make a few public appearances, as you requested?”

Beth’s heart raced. That was precisely what she had suggested, but seeing how he conducted himself, and knowing that he did not care if others saw him act in such a manner, she was less inclined to want to do so.

“Eventually, yes,” she replied, “But we need not rush into that. After all, we have an entire year to make our presence known.”

“If you insist. I have done the gentlemanly thing and made the offer, and so my work is done.”

She laughed at him gently. When not determined to be vulgar, he was quite fun to be around. It would make for a bearable year, at least, and the rest of her life should their paths ever cross after the fact.

Would he even want that? Would she? He was a nice enough man, and he would be a nice enough husband, but it did not make seeing his ineptitude in conversation any easier.

“It is rather late,” she said gently, “I shall retire to my bedchambers.”

“Very well,” he nodded, “Sleep well.”

She smiled, but she knew perfectly well that she would not.