Frustration raged within Emilie, as well as annoyance. So much had happened today, so many things that had shaken her to her core.
And the last thing she wanted in that moment was to be ordered around.
Her husband had a habit of doing that, barking orders at her and then just expecting them to be obeyed. He’d done it a thousand times over since the moment they’d gotten married.
Emilie hadn’t realized until that moment just how much it had begun to grate on her skin.
Quick as she could, Emilie threw herself forward. She climbed down, trotting as fast as her legs would carry her to try to catch up with her husband. But by the time she reached him, he was directly outside the doors of the drawing room.
“Ye cannae keep doin’ that,” Emilie blurted, putting her hand on his arm and turning him toward her.
Archer’s eyes flashed as he whirled, clearly startled at having someone put their hands on him. But they relaxed the moment they landed on her.
“What do ye mean?” he asked, a smirk turning up the corner of his lips as he stepped into the drawing room.
He waved his hand in front of him, an obvious invitation for Emilie to step through. Or was it an order?
She was certain that if she refused, Archer would turn it into an order, even if he didn’t mean it as one right then. It was all too much. Emilie had experienced too much in the last few weeks.
Everything that had happened to her was making her question things. Things that had seemed absolute truths up until her marriage. Things that she was certain the nuns would claim damned her heart for questioning them at all.
“Ye cannae keep orderin’ me around,” Emilie hissed, crossing her arms as she stormed past her husband and into the drawing room beyond. “I am nae yers to order. I am nae yers tocommand. I am a person, with a mind and with feelings, wants, and desires of me own. And I daenae want to jump at yer beck and call.”
Archer’s brow ticked up in amusement, the expression absolutely infuriating. He wasn’t taking her seriously.
He didn’t seem to understand just how much she meant it. Didn’t seem to understand how much everything that had happened the past few weeks had seemed to chafe against her skin, leaving her standing before him now feeling raw and exposed.
“Is that so, wife?” he asked, his voice a gruff drawl that danced over the air to her.
She gulped. The dark amusement in his voice had done something to her, had called to some desire deep and low in her belly.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That in almost every interaction she’d had since coming to Castle McGregor, she’d ended up stewing in her attraction and lust for the man across from her. And then rationalizing it almost immediately after.
The more time she spent here, the more it was fundamentally changing who she was.
“That is so,” Emilie argued.
She hugged herself, taking several steps away from her husband. She needed more distance between them. Not when the way that he was looking at her made her head swim.
“Well,” Archer growled, his voice dancing over her skin and setting everything on fire.
He took another step closer, staring at her with eyes like molten steel.
“I have bad news for ye, wife,” Archer continued, either unaware or not caring about the effect that he was having on her. “Ye agreed to be mine the moment ye married me. And I never let go of what’s mine.”
Archer stared at his wife, amusement flickering in his eyes. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, her chest heaving as she panted for breath.
“What do ye mean I’m yers?” Emilie argued, but her voice had lost a bit of its heat. “I agreed to be yer wife. I dinnae agree to be yer property.”
Archer let out a low, dark chuckle despite himself.
“It’s the same thing in the eyes of the law.”
His words seemed to rock through her with a jolt, and Emilie took several retreating steps back. She began shaking her head.
“I am nae yer property,” she hissed, a fire lighting anew inside of her.
He’d seen this side of his wife a couple of times now, and each time he was struck with a bit of awe at how beautiful she was like this. Fired up and glaring at him, it was like all the masks and pretenses between them fell away.