Chapter 15

Evelyn's face turned an alarming shade of purple.

Margaret had finally caught her breath and gasped, "Nathaniel! Let her go!"

Nathaniel immediately released his grip, shoving Evelyn aside before rushing to his grandmother's side. "Are you alright?"

Margaret waved a trembling hand. "I'm fine... Earlier, I... I choked on a prune pit, but Evelyn saved me using the Heimlich maneuver. See that pit on the floor? That's what I coughed up."

Nathaniel froze, his gaze dropping to the small prune pit on the ground. When he looked back at Evelyn, his brow furrowed slightly.

Evelyn stood up, rubbing her sore arm where Nathaniel had thrown her down. She approached Margaret and explained, "I baked those pastries for myself this morning, Ma'am. I leave the pits in because I enjoy the slight bitterness they add when baked. They're not suitable for elderly consumption though, and I sincerely apologize."

She gave a respectful bow before straightening to face Nathaniel. "You should call a doctor to check on her, Mr... I mean, Nathaniel." With that, she turned and headed upstairs.

Nathaniel watched Evelyn's retreating figure with conflicting emotions.

The incident left Margaret shaken. She only fell asleep after being helped to her room. That afternoon, the family doctor examined her and confirmed her blood pressure was normal.

After the doctor left, Margaret regained some energy. "Could you step outside for a moment, Abigail? I need to speak with your brother."

Abigail hesitated, wanting to eavesdrop, but Nathaniel's stern look forced her to leave.

With just the two of them, Nathaniel approached the bed. "What is it, Grandmother?"

Margaret smiled warmly at her handsome grandson. "I'm perfectly fine now, Nathaniel."

"That's good to hear."

"How did you meet Evelyn?" Margaret asked curiously.

"It was... coincidental."

Margaret nodded slowly. "She's a good girl. I like her very much."

A flicker of surprise crossed Nathaniel's eyes. "Just because she saved you?" He found this sudden change puzzling, considering Margaret had been punishing Evelyn moments before.

Margaret's eyes twinkled. "She remains calm under pressure, neither domineering nor falsely meek. When you misunderstood her, she calmly explained everything and apologized. She's sensible and understanding."

Nathaniel fell silent, remembering how he'd nearly choked her in his rage.

"You haven't slept with her yet, have you?"

The abrupt question caught Nathaniel off guard.

Margaret chuckled. "You're in your thirties, for heaven's sake! Why so embarrassed?"

Nathaniel had no response.

"I know you married quickly to appease your stubborn grandfather, but I think you chose well. Marriage isn't child's play. I hope you two will be happy together!"

Nathaniel hesitated to explain the true nature of their arrangement.

Margaret continued, "I missed your wedding because I was with your grandfather before his surgery, but I'll bless your union today. Make sure to consummate your marriage so your grandfather can meet his great-grandchild after recovery!"

Nathaniel's expression darkened. "Grandmother, about that—"

Margaret interrupted sternly, "If you don't listen, I'll tell your grandfather this is a sham marriage. You know his temper—it could make him relapse!"

Nathaniel rubbed his temples. "I'll have dinner brought to you later. Rest now." He turned to leave.

Margaret called after him, "I'll be checking tonight, so don't disappoint me!"

Returning to their room, Nathaniel found Evelyn at the desk, engrossed in writing. She didn't even glance up when he entered.

He approached and looked over her shoulder. "Homework?"

"Copying house rules," Evelyn replied without looking up. "Twenty-first century and you still have written family rules. How medieval."

Nathaniel took her pen. "Stop. No one will punish you again."

Evelyn stretched. "Guess I'll shower and sleep then!"

After being nearly strangled earlier, Evelyn understood the power imbalance between them. Nathaniel could crush her effortlessly. It wasn't fear, just pragmatism—she wouldn't make her life harder than necessary.

For the next three months, her priority was peaceful coexistence with the Graysons, avoiding conflict and minimizing contact with Nathaniel. When the time came, she'd simply leave.

Evelyn stood to pass Nathaniel, keeping her distance, but he grabbed her arm suddenly.

"Ah!" She winced. "What now?"

Nathaniel's gaze sharpened. "So you do feel pain." His grip had found the sorest spot on her arm—where it had struck the coffee table when he threw her down earlier.

Her resolve to avoid conflict wavered under his provocation. "Thanks to you," she snapped.

Startled, Nathaniel released her. "Go downstairs and let the doctor check that."

"Not necessary. It's just a bruise." Evelyn shook him off and headed to the bathroom.

After showering and changing into pajamas, she prepared for bed.

"Come here," Nathaniel commanded from the armchair.

Evelyn eyed him warily. "Why should I?"

He gestured to the first-aid kit on the table. "For your arm."

"No thanks."

Nathaniel's stare turned dangerous. "Are you coming, or shall I come to you?"

Grudgingly, Evelyn approached and thrust out her injured arm. "Fine. Hurry up."

The maid had brought the kit, and Nathaniel had intended for Evelyn to tend her own wound. But she'd misunderstood, thinking he meant to do it himself.

Nathaniel had never served anyone, nor would he. Yet he opened the kit, dipped a cotton swab in medicated oil, and gently applied it to her bruise.

Evelyn had extended her arm to annoy him, never expecting this. "Feeling guilty about today?" she asked.

Nathaniel remained expressionless. "I'm taking responsibility for accidentally hurting you. As for my grandmother, don't hold a grudge—she won't be here long."

"Why would I? She's not a bad person."

Nathaniel looked up. "She made you copy house rules. Doesn't that make her bad?"

Evelyn scoffed. "Bad people don't punish with copying. That's the worst a good person can imagine. The truly bad ones always—" She cut herself off.

"Always what?" Nathaniel pressed.

Evelyn saw no reason to share her past. "Nothing. Are you done? I want to sleep."

Nathaniel still held her arm after applying the ointment. Thinking he doubted her commitment, Evelyn said firmly, "Relax. I promised three months of cooperation, and I'll treat it like a job. Your sister's a pain, but your grandmother was just protecting her. I understand—no hard feelings."

Nathaniel studied Evelyn thoughtfully. He'd assumed her rash and simple-minded, but she showed surprising understanding.

She was also unexpectedly attractive—long lashes framing lively eyes, a youthful face with dimples that animated every expression.

Suddenly, Nathaniel stood, startling Evelyn. "What—?"

Without warning, he scooped her up bridal-style.

Evelyn stiffened in shock. "What are you doing?!" Her question was cut short as she landed on the bed.

Nathaniel removed his jacket, yanked off his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt with aggressive movements.

Evelyn tried to scramble up, but his hands pushed her back down. For the first time, she saw a man's Adam's apple and chest muscles up close—and had to admit they were distracting.

"Stop joking! Remember I'm not your type!"

Nathaniel caged her beneath him, gaze predatory. "What if I ignore that for one night of fun?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to scream, but Nathaniel covered it.

"Mmph!"