Her brows lifted sharply as her voice hardened. "Permit me?" She pulled her hand from his hold. "Why do you think you can forbid me?"
"I will not allow you to place yourself at risk."
She scoffed. "It is the countryside, Alexander. There is no risk."
"Guinevere—"
"Enough, please." Her frown deepened. "I know you speak from concern, but I am not fragile."
"You are still recovering," he reminded, "and I will not have you traipsing about the countryside because of your pride."
"My pride?!"
"Yes! The very one which refuses you to cancel the invitation even for your health's sake."
"I am recovered. It has been a month. I believe that suffices."
"I refuse to believe so."
"Believe what you must," she replied coldly. "I am still visiting St. Stephen's."
"You will disobey me?"
"Oh, you are impossible." Turning away sharply, she swept from the room.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere you are not!"
"Guinevere!"
