Amelia was fuming as they stood at the entrance of their new house that Antony was planning to lease.

"You expect me to live here?" she asked angrily. One might think her anger was unreasonable as it was a comfortable five-bedroom house with luxurious furnishing.

"You prefer to stay in my bachelor lodging?"

"Should I remind you who owns this house?"

"We are leasing it."

Amelia tried hard to keep an even voice as she said, "You want me to live in a house owned by your ex-fiancé Lady Bliver?"

"She is no longer Lady Bliver, she is Mrs. Long."

"Oh, you remember that? If you both are having an affair can't you at least keep it private-"

Before she could finish the sentence he had her pinned against the wall with his hand painfully squeezing her neck.

"You don't dare to insult Matilda in front of me. Do you understand?"

She tried to push him away, but he was too strong for her.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, squeezing harder.

She tried to say yes, but all she could do was gasp. He let her go.

Amelia ran without a backwards glance. She cried for the first time after her mother's demise.

Too soon it was her wedding day. The marriage was a simple event at the Advent Castle. None of the attendees would have witnessed a marriage more bizarre than that one. The bride walked to the altar alone. The groom didn't take her hands throughout the service. Once the vicar pronounced them husband and wife, both left without even a peck on the cheeks.

"Antony, I don't know what happened between the two of you. But you can't make Lady Amelia live in your bachelor lodging. She needs handmaids and maids. Please reconsider!" Emma pleaded.

"Emma, she is my wife. I request you to leave me to deal with her as I wish. Rest assured, she will be taken care of."

Emma looked like she was going to argue but Lord Advent placed a hand on her shoulders hinting her to stop.

Amelia didn't protest as they reached his house, it had a sitting room that acted as his study as well, a kitchen with an attached dining area and a bedroom. The whole terrace had a garden, with flowers and fruit plants.

Amelia knew Antony was punishing her, but she didn't care. On several occasions she had been without a handmaid or help, the times she dismissed them to get back at her father.

Antony left her alone the whole day. He arrived late to find Amelia sleeping comfortably in his bed. The house was in complete disarray.

She had meticulously tied all his clothes into a pile and replaced his wardrobe with her clothes. The contents of his study table were emptied and stuffed beneath the bed. With the little time he gave her she had managed to move almost every thing that Antony owned. Antony sighed and got to work, restoring everything.

Amelia was woken in the middle of the night. She was lying alone, wondering what made her wake up abruptly she made her way to the kitchen.

Someone was moaning, it squeezed her heart. It was a painful moan. Antony was lying on the sofa, his face contorted in pain, his body curled into a fetal position. He let out a pained moan, again.

"Antony!" Amelia called and rushed to his side.

"Antony! Wake up!" she shook him while repeating.

When he finally opened his eyes they were beyond grim. It was impossible to think someone lived behind those eyes, it had a dead and defeated look like it had seen and lived through all the misery in the world.

"Antony! Are you hurt?" Amelia asked.

His eyes turned to her. She knew he looked at her but he was seeing something else.

"Antony! Can you hear me?" she patted his cheeks.

Several minutes passed before Antony recovered. The dead look in his eyes stayed.

"What happened?" Amelia demanded.

"Nothing."

She made an impatient noise.

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Antony sounded least convincing.

"Well, try to keep 'nothing' down from tomorrow. I couldn't sleep."

Amelia got back to her bed angrily, but she couldn't stop worrying about him. She felt guilty for making him sleep on the couch on their wedding night. She hated herself for feeling anything towards him, if anything he should be the one to apologise as he was the one who tried to kill her. Cursing herself, she returned to the couch with pillows and a blanket.

"Here," she said and dropped them on his head angrily.

"It's ok, I don't need it."

"It's bloody January, everyone needs a blanket."

"I don't like people who curse."

"Makes no difference, you already hate me."

"You don't have to do it for me," he pointed to the pillow and blanket.

"I am not doing it for you, I am doing it for me corny-faced."

Antony chuckled and shook his face as she stormed off. Amelia woke up late in the morning, again to find herself alone. A maid had already cooked and cleaned the house.

A warm bath was waiting for her in the bathroom. She bathed and opened the wardrobe only to give vicious death threats. She couldn't find any of her dresses. She looked everywhere in the whole house. She found none.

"Is this how you are planning to play? You picked the wrong one, Mr. Bennet," she said under her breath.

Antony couldn't stop grinning thinking of Amelia. He wondered if her rage reached new levels. He had hidden her clothes in the attic and even if she managed to find they had an attic, he had locked it and bought the key with him.

"Are you grinning? Marriage does suit you," Marcus said, in an astonished voice.

"I am not grinning," Antony protested but he knew it was a lie. He hasn't smiled like this in a long time and the muscles in his cheeks felt rather odd.

Antony's grin vanished once he reached home. He should have known, the vixen had no conscience.

All of Antony's shirts were dumped into a laundry bag. His white shirt was brown with dirt. Most clothes had soup stains and others were craftily soiled. He didn't have anything to change into. Amelia was once again sleeping on his bed wearing his shirt.

Sighing heavily, he went to sleep on his couch where a pillow and blanket were laid out for him.