“As have I.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” He stomped out.

Ellie rather thought they sounded like a pair of squabbling children, but at that point she was too enraged to care.

The newlyweds managed to avoid each other's company for two days, and they probably would have been able to continue in this solitary manner for even longer had not disaster struck.

Ellie was breakfasting when Helen entered the small dining room, her face scrunched up in an expression of distaste.

“Is something amiss, Helen?” Ellie asked, trying not to notice that the kitchen still hadn't resumed service of toast.

“Have you any idea what that dreadful smell in the south wing is? I nearly swooned on my way over.”

“I didn't notice any smell. I came down by way of the side stairs, and…” Ellie's heart dropped. The orangery. Oh, please, not the orangery. It was off the south wing. “Oh, dear,” she mumbled, jumping to her feet. She ran through the halls, Helen right behind her. If something had happened in the orangery she didn't know what she would do. It was the only place in this Godforsaken mausoleum she felt at home.

As Ellie neared her destination, a terrible, rotten stench assaulted her. “Oh, my word!” she gasped. “What is that?”

“It's awful, isn't it?” Helen agreed.

Ellie entered the orangery and what she saw made her want to cry. The rosebushes—which she had already fallen in love with—were dead, their leaves looking almost singed. Petals littered the floor, and the bushes gave off the most hideous stench. She covered her nose. “Who would do such a thing?” She turned to Helen and repeated, “Who?”

Helen stared at her a moment and then finally said, “Ellie, you are the only one who likes to spend time in the orangery.”

“Surely you don't think I… You think I did this?”

“I don't think you did this on purpose,” Helen replied, looking very uncomfortable. “Anyone could see how much you enjoyed gardening. Perhaps you put something in the soil. Or misted something onto it you ought not have.”

“I did no such thing!” Ellie insisted. “I—”

“Good God!” Charles entered the orangery, one hand holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. “What is that smell?”

“My rosebush!” Ellie nearly wailed. “Look what someone has done to it.”

Charles planted his hands on his hips as he surveyed the damage, then accidentally breathed through his nose and coughed. “The devil take it, Eleanor, how did you manage to kill off the rosebushes in only two days? It always took my mother at least a year to do such damage.”

“I had nothing to do with this!” she yelled. “Nothing!”

Claire chose that moment to enter the scene. “Did something die in the orangery?” she asked.

Ellie's eyes turned to slits. “No, but my husband is about to if he utters one more derogatory word about me.”

“Ellie,” Charles said in a placating voice. “I don't think you did this on purpose. It's just—”