She lay on the bed crying in her wedding gown. No, she wasn't missing her parents, she was missing the only thing she came here for: a husband. 

'He'll love you more than love itself' she was told by her mother since childhood. Her parents had been planning this wedding the since the day of her birth, had weaved the dreams of her marriage when she was just an infant in her mother's womb, had made her dream of a perfect life with a perfect partner before she even learnt to speak.

And now she was married to a man who refused to kiss his bride when the priest asked him to. Who refused to hold her hand and help her up the carriage. Who refused to let her share the room with him. Who deprived her of love, restricted her to love any other man, chained her to himself for as long as eternity.

She had entered his room an hour ago, her white gown brushing against the floor, her heels making slight sounds of movement. Her veil had been taken care of by the butler and she had been directed to her husbands room with extraordinary delicateness and care. For a second all her dreams had returned, for just a moment she could see the man she had dreamt of for all this while. She found him sitting there rubbing the area between his brows with his long fingers. His green eyes lift up when he saw her enter. Her heart raced for a moment only to pause in the next.

'Your rooms across the hall.' was all that he muttered. She could hear the sound of her heart shattering to millions of tiny piece.

'I... I thought we'd sleep together.' She managed to say. That's when she realized the tone of despiracy in her words. She probably longed for love, and she had realized this just at the wrong moment.

'You thought wrong, I'm not very keen to have you in my room or for that matter anywhere near me. You are dismissed.' He didn't even look at her. His eyes never turned towards her whilst he spoke. 

'But we're marr-' She started with a slightly high voice but was cut of by him. 

'I bloody don't care about what you want, but if you want to live in this house then live by my rules. And rule number 1 is don't utter a word when you're not required to and don't even think of me having any sort of feelings towards you. Rule number 2, follow what I say in one go. Now get out!' He had barked and she jumped out of the room in fright. She wasn't a scared lamb, but today she felt like one. Probably because her injured heart let none of her souls strength out.

She found her room just across his and lay her head on the pillow softly sobbing. She hadn't even got to see his room clearly. All she saw was his green eyes which haunted her and his black hair, which he kept driving his hand through. His lips which kept on barking at her. His hand which shook to dismiss her.

Her eyes didn't want to look around her own room for she knew that the more she looked around, the more she would miss home. She would miss her father's caressing touch, her mother's sweet kisses. She would miss her nannies care and her butlers admiration.

She had been called by utter respect as Rosalind Renard in the past. Now she was Rosalind Addington. 

***

He gazed at the ceiling as he thought of what had happened that day. He had been forced to take a woman, who he barely knew, as his wife. His father had been an idiot to have made a deal out of his son's life. And his mother had left him too early to take a part in the decision. Not that he missed her. 

But this particular woman had walked into his room, shying and blushing as if he was supposed to kiss her. He compelled himself to think that she was a desperate woman. But somehow he didn't feel that way. What was she thinking when she looked at him with her blue eyes? Was she scared? Or was she too daring? Or was she just another player? 

He had seen many women in his life but none like her, none who dared speak to him in a higher voice than his own, none who dared remind him of who he was to them and none who dared marry him. 

Yes, she was beautiful but never would she be of his liking for it was his pride to have women after him, but not a single one beside him. It was his pride to be a lion and nobody deserved to be his lioness. Nobody deserved to be loved by him.

He was Archer Ronald Addington, one the richest and the proudest men in England and no woman deserved him more than himself.