“I’ll nae be sittin’,” he informed her. “This shouldnae take long.”
A confused look flickered across his wife’s face, but it wasn’t something he allowed himself to stew on. It would be better for everyone involved for him to get this over with soon.
“I ken what ye’ve been up to,” Archer began, his words imbued with ice. “I ken that ye’ve been tryin’ to annoy me. And, at first I couldnae figure out why. But I think I have, now.”
Emilie’s mouth popped open in surprise, clearly shocked to have him speaking so plainly about the plot that he’d uncovered.
“Ye’ve been playin’ dumb so that I would give ye an annulment, is that correct?”
She began to sputter, shaking her head as protests fell from her lips. But she couldn’t finish an entire thought, her words all jumbling over each other in an unintelligible mish-mash that Archer couldn’t entirely make sense of.
When he’d finally had enough of seeing her struggle, Archer held up a hand, effectively silencing Emilie.
“I daenae ken what ye’re talkin’ about,” she said finally, the first truly coherent sentence she’d spoken in the last few moments.
Archer stared at her hard, not allowing the ice that he’d constructed around himself to melt. If he did, he wouldn’t go through with this, so he imagined the ice coating himself all over again, holding that coldness close and latching onto it.
“Ye daenae need to pretend anymore,” Archer growled. “Because I’ve figured it all out. And I plan on givin’ ye what ye want. The annulment is yers.”
He had thought that he’d seen relief in her eyes, so when instead she jumped up and immediately began to argue, he was shocked.
“What do ye mean ye’re givin’ me an annulment?” she hurled, fired up in that way that he always found so incredibly attractive. “We’re married. And ye’ve… done things to me. Things that I ken would be a sin if I were to do them with anyone else. Ye cannae go annulin’ our marriage. Nae now.”
“Is that nae what ye want?” he asked, keeping his tone even.
Emilie stared at him, her chest heaving as she stood before him. A few moments ticked by, and the only sound to be heard was the crackling of the fireplace in the corner of the room.
Finally, something within her seemed to deflate, and Emilie’s head began to dip.
“It is what I wanted at first,” she admitted, blue eyes shining in the flickering light of the fire. “I willnae lie to ye about that, nae anymore. Ye seem to want the truth, so I’ll give it to ye. All of it.”
She took a deep breath, clearly trying to draw in the strength to continue with the conversation. Archer knew that he should stop her, that it would be unkind to allow the conversation to continue any further, especially since his mind was already made up.
There was nothing that Emilie could say, do, or promise that would get him to change his mind.
But that fact didn’t quell the curiosity now twining through him.
I can hear what she has to say, even if I ken that it willnae change me mind. Mayhaps it will help to ken the truth, after all this is said and done.
When Emilie began to speak again, her voice was steady and sure.
“I did want an annulment at first,” she explained evenly. “So, aye, I noticed how much ye seemed to be driven mad by foolishness, so I decided to play the fool. I thought that ye wouldnae allow yer children to be raised by someone daft, and that ye’d send me back to the abbey.”
Even though Archer had already worked it all out for himself, the words still stung. His first wife, the twins’ mother, had hated being married to him. She had told him as much on her deathbed.
And all of that came rushing back to him now, knowing how much Emilie had clearly hated being married to him as well.
It’s me. The problem has always been with me. I am the rot that ruins me marriage, I am the rot that ruins me family. Just like me faither was.
“But I daenae want that now, Archer.”
Emilie’s words caught him off guard, and Archer blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what she’d just said. Seeming to take his brief moment of confusion as encouragement, a soft smile tugged up the corner of Emilie’s lips, and she stepped forward.
Her hand jutted toward Archer, grabbing Archer’s own and lacing their fingers together.
“I daenae want to go to the abbey,” she repeated. “I daenae want to be anywhere but here. With ye, and with the bairns. I’ve grown to love them, ye see. The twins.”
Archer nodded. That much he could understand. Even from a distance, he knew that his children were extraordinary.