"Excuse me, what?!" Daphne watched as the wine she'd been drinking dripped down Harold's face. She worked very hard not to mention that the wine was his colour, as he wiped it off in annoyance.
"Marry me. I brought you here to ask you to marry me, Petunia," he said with confidence that did not have any place in that question.
She somehow held a surprising amount of self-control in that moment, as she had the urge to dump the rest of her wine in his face as well. Perhaps a part of it was the knowledge that she may not have had anything else to drink for a while if she did.
It took a moment for her to know exactly how she wanted to answer him. "You have a hell of a way of asking a girl to marry you, Harold," she said through gritted teeth while gesturing to the surrounding camp. "Besides, we were already engaged, remember? You were the one who chose otherwise. Which, by the way, I forgot to thank you for. I can't imagine how miserable I'd be now if you didn't."
Harold chuckled and shook his head before lifting his eyes to hers.
"Unfortunate circumstances. But I knew you'd be understanding like you always have been. It's one of the things I love about you; one of the big things that set you apart from other women."
His words caused her to clench her fingers into the fabric of her trousers and bite the inside of her cheek. This had been how he'd kept her. He always knew how to turn words in a way she felt obligated to be something specific.
Somehow, in all the spying on her he'd been doing, he missed just how much she grew past his manipulation over the years. She would not even address his "unfortunate circumstances".
"Never will there be a day I marry you. You are delusional, or you want something else by this."
He sighed deeply and leaned back, his arms behind his head. It was not an attractive pose, but perhaps she was biased.
"I'd be lying if I didn't say you'd be helpful for my business. But no, the main reason I want you to marry me is 'cause I never stopped loving you. Nobody is as supportive or reliable as you."
"In the name of all pickled hog feet...what does he think he'll gain here??" She really felt like spitting in his face, but she felt keeping her cool and speaking plainly would be the best course of action.
"Why would I be helpful for business? I'm no merchant."
"You say you are no merchant, but after you joined the ranks of the Company of the East Road, they flourished. Which, I'm sorely offended you joined a rival company, Petty."
She blinked and ran her thumbs along the rim of her cup. "The flourishing had nothing to do with me. I was a caravan guard and assistant. Nothing more."
Harold laughed again, causing her to grit her teeth. It was annoying.
"Nothing more, eh? From all I heard, you were oh so much more to the "boss". So much that he quit when you disappeared. Don't worry though...everyone seems to think you ran away."
He could have continued in commenting on who she was, or insulting her or anything else...but these words caused her to flinch as though she was slapped. His grin told her she immediately needed to remove the scowl from her face and be passive in expression, but she could not manage it. "Why would he quit? He was the only one who could lead it..."
The final sentence Harold spoke finally sank in. Everyone thought she had abandoned them. Furley likely thought his hinting at going to Dale had frightened her. She told him she wouldn't leave him again. How betrayed he must...
"But I know you love me. There's no reason to worry about him, so he'll do whatever he feels like doing and my business won't be touched. I'll give you anything a girl could hope for when we're married, and I'll be able to provide everything. As long as you help me get there as you did with them."
Daphne shook her head firmly. He clearly would not listen to how small her role had been. "Harold, I have not held a speck of love for you for years. You disgust me, and you can give me nothing of what I hope for or desire. By your interest in me and the way business has gone, I can assume your other bride-to-be bailed, and good for her." She almost continued, but she feared the danger she might put Furley in if her words were too careless.
Harold did not even sit up. He smiled at her in a way that caused her stomach to drop.
"Y'know, Petty, one of the other things I love about you is your stubbornness. I'm sure you remember my favourite part about horses, is when the really headstrong ones need forced into submission. I'm very well equipped to keep you here forever, and nobody...I do mean nobody, is looking for you. You will not be free until you marry me."
His eyes held desperation that was like a small boy, if the small boy was also mildly insane. He truly believed this would help him. That her being by his side would fix who he was. Somehow, he was still trying to fool himself that she belonged to him.
She downed her wine in one go. "This would be the kind of wine even Furley would hate."
"I am more free now than you will ever be, Harold Brushwood. Now please kill me before I have to endure more of your idiocy."
