The Newlyweds by Elizabeth Bevarly Page B

and about, since they obviously have other more important things to do than become intimately acquainted.”
    Bridget narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, in my world?”
    He lifted one shoulder and let it drop in what she supposed was meant to be a shrug. But there was nothing casual in the gesture. There was nothing casual in him at the moment. On the contrary, he suddenly seemed very, very menacing. His lip fairly curled with contempt as he said, “Just that in the upper-crusty, blue-blooded, rarefied atmosphere where you grew up, I guess people tend to marry for reasons other than love and devotion and passion. So maybe once the honeymoon is over, it’s really, really over.”
    Bridget gaped at him. “Oh, is that a fact?” she said coolly, her back going up at the antagonism he didn’t even bother to hide. Where was all this animosity coming from? she wondered. A few minutes ago they’d been speaking to each other like the professionals they were. Now, suddenly, everything had shifted, and they were snapping at each other like toddlers on a playground. “Like what kind of reasons?” she asked. “Can you give me a for instance?”
    He employed another one of those fake shrugs, then he said, “Sure, I can give you lots of for instances. There are real estate holdings to consider, for example. Got to get some of those to add to the family coffers whenever you marry off a daughter. Or business mergers. Cheaper to marry into a new business than to buy it outright. And then there’s the need to further the family line with the proper mix of DNA. Make sure the blood stays blue.”
    â€œHel-looo?” Bridget interjected. “What century did you just arrive from, Charlemagne? That real-estate stuff sort of went out with the feudal system. Not that you’d realize it, since you seem to still embrace that whole droit du seigneur thing.”
    â€œThat whole what?” Sam said crisply. “You’ll have to excuse me. I went to public school, and we didn’t learn all those fancy French phrases you private schoolies got. We focused mostly on Où est Pierre? And Mon crayon est jaune. ”
    Bridget rolled her eyes at him. “Forget it. It’s not important.”
    â€œI think it is.”
    She expelled an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Droit du seigneur was the feudal lord’s right to deflower all thevirgins who worked his land on their wedding nights, before their husbands had the chance to do it.”
    Sam glared at her. “And you think that would appeal to me, do you?”
    â€œYeah, I do,” she said, “if you’re over there assuming that just because my family is wealthy I’d prefer to marry for financial gain instead of love. You’re obviously living in the Middle Ages, pal.”
    â€œAnd you’d rather marry for love than financial gain, is that what you expect me to believe?” he asked.
    â€œI’d rather not marry at all,” she retorted. “Not that it’s any of your business. And why the hell are we arguing?” she further demanded, her voice raising another decibel.
    â€œBecause we’re newlyweds!” he cried.
    â€œI thought we were supposed to be too preoccupied with other things to be arguing!” she shouted back.
    He opened his mouth to reply, doubtless with something caustic and loud, then seemed to realize how stupidly they were behaving. Bridget had to admit she had no idea how they’d degenerated to this point herself. She, too, quieted, forcing herself to calm down.
    It was the stress of the case, she told herself. She and Sam both were just frustrated by the appalling lack of success they’d had so far with this thing. That was why they were going at it this way. That was why they were fighting over something as stupid as why people married and what they did on their wedding night. This was nuts. And it just