Illusion

“Leave that! I want to talk to you,” he commanded, unable to keep the heaviness out of his voice. He so much wanted to put his hands on her hair that his fingers tingled.

Sophy looked up, blinking. He was standing beside the dressing table with the cup and saucer in his hands, watching her with his intense eyes. She stared at him mutely, then put her brush down.

Seth considered her, and hesitated for a moment. When he spoke the words came out with quiet ferocity. “I would be obliged if you would refrain from such activities as you indulged in today.”

There was a flash of indignation. This was not what was supposed to happen. Sophy drew in her breath. Her chin tilted up.

“You expect me to be kept here like a parrot on a perch with a chain around my leg?” Her voice was high, ten decibels above her normal speaking voice.

He picked up his cup, drained it, then set it down with a grimace before he spoke. “You signed a marriage contract. You are my wife, sworn to obey me.”

Sophy jumped to her feet. “In the eyes of the law, infants, lunatics, felons and married women have limited contractual ability. Accordingly, the contract I signed is worthless,” she flung back, mimicking his tone of voice with biting accuracy.

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