Nine Shillings

An Infuriating Man

London - 1842

'That man is infuriating,' I said, striding up and down the kitchen.

Nora was sitting at the heavy oak table peeling and cutting apples for the children. Apparently, I hadn't been doing a good job but my knife work was excellent.

Perhaps I had been hacking them up a bit, in frustration.

'I'm sure he is,' she said without looking at me. 'But he's also right.'

'Right?' I stopped and looked at her.

She didn't even bat an eyelash at the intensity of my stare. 'You've married into money, dear, your girls need to become accomplished young ladies.' She glanced at me. 'But, mostly, they need to learn to play the game.'

'I can play the game.'

She gave me a look and shook her head. 'You play your game. That is not the same.'

I frowned. She had a point, I supposed. I came from outside the system, I had no reputation to lose. Our children were growing up in the system, sort of, the rules were different and I needed to give them the choice whether they played by them or not.

I sighed and dropped down onto one of the chairs. 'He's still infuriating.'

'Has it, perhaps, occurred to you, dear, there may be some unresolved tensions between you?'

I picked up a long curl of apple peel from the plate beside her, tore a piece off, and popped it into my mouth. 'That man gives me nothing but tension.'

She arched an eyebrow. 'And there you go proving my point.'

'What?'

'Talking with your mouth full.'

I shrugged. 'Eat fast or don't eat.'

'Which is not a problem your children have.' She put a small plate under my apple peel. 'As much as I love you, dear, sometimes try to feign a little elegance.'

'Wouldn't know it if it bit me.'

'I'm sure Mr Mathers would, if you asked.'

I snorted and laughed. 'Touché.' I took another bite of apple peel. 'And you know what he casually dropped a few weeks ago? He's a baron, kept that quiet.'

'Is he now?' She nodded. 'I haven't ever heard him mention it.' She smiled, deepening the wrinkles round her eyes. 'Perhaps he was trying to impress you.'

'I doubt Josef wants to impress the likes of me.'

'He told you he loves you, of course he wants impress you.'

I scowled and continued chewing my apple peel.

She tipped her head to the side and kept her gaze on me.

'It doesn't matter if Josef wants to fuck me, I'm taken.'

'That's not the same as saying you wouldn't have.'

'Of course, I would have, if he'd paid me enough.' I shrugged. 'I thought we'd established that.'

She let out a breath. 'Would you now?'

'I'm married now.' Technically, it wasn't a legal marriage. Bran and I had said 'we're married now' and that was it.

Again, she gave me the disappointed look. 'Hypothetically, if you weren't, would you?'

'Yes... if he paid me.'

She put down the apple and knife she was holding and put her head in her hands. 'On my life.'

I chuckled and helped myself to another twirl of apple peel. 'It's a roundabout argument.' I took a bite of peel. 'Josef is going to have to get over it.'

'People don't just get over being in love, dear. If they did life would be much less complicated.'

'Well, what do you expect me to do about it?' I asked. 'It's not as if I can suck him off to get it out his system.'

'That would be lust, not love. Very different.'

I felt very underqualified for this conversation. I wasn't sure what my feelings for Josef were, except profound annoyance. Emotional literacy wasn't my strong suit. I loved Bran one way. I loved my children a different way. Josef... I liked him, mostly... he was my best friend. If it was possible to be best friends with someone you were perpetually annoyed at.

'Josef is my friend,' I said slowly.

'Then if you want to stay friends you have to figure out your dynamic.' She took a bite from an apple slice. 'Which, I think, in your case means he needs to surrender to you being in charge. Or, at least, that he can't protect you all the time.'

'Hm?' I blinked.

'That's what it comes down to, dear,' she said, carefully swallowing her apple bite first. 'It's obvious, he loves you and he feels guilty for not protecting you.'

'But –'

'I know. You had your plan.' She wafted her hand. 'That doesn't make people feel less guilty when they fail to protect the people they love.'

Guilt was a relatively new emotion in my lexicon but I could see the logic. And I could see how, logically, that might make him overprotective.

'He's still infuriating.'

'He's not the only one,' she muttered.

I grinned.