Disclaimer: see previous chapter

Author's Notes: When I read over the first chapter, I couldn't help facepalming at how I sprang Nel's character. /facepalm (Didn't I warn you guys that multi-chaptered fics are not my forte?) So I'm going a lot slower with my story development this time around, though I guess this chapter is still pretty fast paced. Darn it, fail twice in a row? XD

And thanks heaps for the reviews guys. You guys rock. /hugs

…

"What do you mean, married to me by proxy?"

Gisella calmly sipped her tea, not looking a bit concerned in the face of Grimmjow's anger. "I did try to tell you earlier, but you insisted on ignoring me. You can only blame yourself for this surprise."

"Madam, you have five seconds to explain yourself before I have you shipped back to Northbury manor tonight."

"Really, no need to be rude, Grimm. If you would recall the bargain that we struck a few months back concerning the future Countess of Northbury?"

Grimmjow's eye twitched as he thought back through the conversations, a sinking feeling making his stomach churn. "I don't recall."

"Hmph, just as I thought," Gisella sniffed, pausing a moment to take a sip from her tea before continuing. "We drew papers so you cannot claim ignorance on this. You agreed that if you could not procure a suitable bride by the end of October, then you would be forced to agree to my choice of a bride. And if my memory serves me correct, it is now November." A smug expression covered the dowager's face before she moved to cover it with another delicate sip from her teacup.

"Bloody hell."

"Really, Grimmjow. Such language."

"You married me to some damned chit by proxy! My language is the least of your concern!"

Gisella lifted a brow. "Could it be that the Earl of Northbury isn't going to uphold his word? Need I remind you of the penalty of not upholding the contract, Grimm?"

"And what of her background? Is she at least suitable for the position of countess?"

Gisella took another sip of her tea, looking calmly at Grimmjow. "She is the daughter of a merchant. Hardworking, able to run a household, polite, well-mannered and of good breeding."

Grimmjow snorted. "Good breeding? I would hardly think so with a merchant for a father."

Gisella smiled, "Details, my dear boy. Her mother was Lady Alessandra, the daughter of the Duke of Charlton. The Duke wrote Alessandra out of his will when she ran away with Neliel's father, but have since made amends with their daughter at the birth of their granddaughter, Nel. It also seems that the Duke and Duchess are without an heir, and therefore, the next in line for the title is dear Neliel. You see, my boy? Your bride actually outranks you. How do you feel about that?"

Grimmjow scowled. He didn't even want to think about the woman upstairs. He was bone tired, and all he really wanted at this moment was to sleep. He drew to his feet slowly, sparing a glance at his grandmother. "This isn't over," he muttered before exiting the room, dragging up the stairs for the second time that night. He opened the door to his bedchamber, pausing but for a moment when he noticed that Neliel was still in his room.

"What the hell are you still doing here?"

Neliel turned a perplexed look at him. "Is this not where I'm supposed to be?"

Grimmjow gave a harsh laugh at that, before striding across the room to where she sat on the bed, her legs dangling over the side. He roughly grabbed her up, bodily lifting her to her feet and ignoring the cry of pain that she gave at his treatment. He pulled her towards the door of the adjoining bedchamber, throwing the door wide open and pushing her towards the cold, unprepared room.

Neliel's brow furrowed, and she turned back to face her husband of less than half a day. "I am not a maid servant whom you can order out on a whim. I am your wife, like it or not, and you should treat me as befit my station."

Grimmjow's eyes widened in bewilderment, "treat you as befit your station? My God, woman, you are nothing to me, nor do I recognize you as my wife. So stop harping on and let me be. I have had enough of both you and my grandmother's meddling ways."

He slammed the door in her face, and Neliel huffed in annoyance. Were it not for the fact that she understood his position, she would have liked to box his ears in. As it was, she let him be. Though if he thought she was going to allow him to continue to treat her in a similar fashion in future, he would be sorely mistaken.

…

Breakfast the following morning was a strained affair.

Gisella stared from one side of the breakfast table to the other, noting the strain in Neliel's face as she calmly ate a piece of toast, while Grimmjow on the other hand was openly scowling at his eggs, not that that wasn't something he did every morning, but she could tell that he was a lot moodier than usual.

She smiled cheerfully, looking to start a conversation topic. "And how was your first night at the Jaegerjacques town house, Nel? I trust you slept well?"

The woman in question looked up from her toast, shooting a narrowed look at Grimmjow before replying quietly, "it was a night I will not forget." Her gaze fell back to her half eaten toast, and she resumed with her meal in silence.

Oh, dear, Gisella thought, casting a glance at Grimmjow to gauge his reaction. Just what did he do to her last night?

She cleared her throat delicately and tried for another conversation gambit. "The Master's are holding a soiree on the first eve of December. I believe that it will be a good time to introduce Neliel as your wife to polite society. What do you think, Grimmjow?"

He merely grunted in reply. "Do as you wish, I have no interest in that sort of thing."

Gisella frowned, "really, Grimmjow. I know you do not enjoy attending events held by the ton, but this is the exception, and I really must insist that you show some interest in this."

"I cannot think why, madam, since you seem to be well-versed in acting on my behalf."

Gisella closed her mouth, glaring at Grimmjow. "Well, if you are going to behave so poorly this morning, Nel and I will simply leave you here while we spend your money on a new outfit for the upcoming ball."

Grimmjow paused mid-sip of his coffee cup, a brow raised. He lowered his cup, his gaze running over Neliel's figure. "I see. This is the kind of behaviour I am to expect in future from this marriage?"

Neliel froze at the verbal jab, raising narrowed eyes to Grimmjow, but it was Gisella that flew swiftly into action. Slamming her cutlery down on the table, she turned her dragon's temper on her grandson. "Watch your tongue. I did not raise you to be such an ill-mannered cur." With that, she rose to her feet.

"Come, Nel, let us leave. We do not have to put up with such poor company."

Leaving in a flurry of skirts, Grimmjow scowled at their backs before cursing under his breath.

…

Nel was silent in the carriage as they headed towards Mrs. Beedle's seamstress shop. Gisella sighed and patted her hand. "I'm sorry that you had to witness that. Grimmjow really isn't quite as terrible as he acted this morning."

She looked thoughtful for a moment before adding absently almost to herself. "It must be something to do with his work?"

Nel turned, her interest piqued. "The War Ministry? But Britain is at such a strong position against the French, surely they wouldn't be able to cause us problems?"

Gisella shrugged. "I am not sure what the exact situation is. Grimmjow has always been rather closed-mouthed about his work in the Ministry, not to mention, he had just returned from a three day stint out in God knows where."

Nel bit her lip, casting a glance out the window before turning back and smiling wryly. "I guess I can understand how he feels. I shall try my best not to be too obtrusive while asserting myself as the new Countess."

Gisella returned the smile. "That may be the best way to approach this for now. Coincidently—"

The sudden lurching of the carriage had the two women crying out in surprise. Nel had but a few moments to gather her composure before the door to the carriage was ripped open, and a burly man reached in to grab at the dowager countess. Without thinking, she struck out with her foot, causing the man to grunt in surprise. He turned his gaze on to her, and the lecherous smile he gave her had shivers running down her spine. He made a move to grab her ankle, and she snatched her foot back, grabbing at her reticule at the same time.

Quickly, she removed a pistol from within, aiming it at the man's head, her glare fierce as she spoke coolly, "make one more move towards us, and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

The man's face turned a blotchy red as he looked at the gun then at Nel, as if judging whether or not he could make a grab for the gun. Reading his thoughts, Nel cocked her pistol, her sight not wavering from his. He swore loudly before turning and making his escape.

Poking her head out of the carriage, Nel made sure that he was indeed gone before she turned to Gisella, finding her quite pale and sickly looking. Immediately returning to her side, she banged on the roof of the carriage, shouting instructions to return to the Northbury town house.

"Are you alright?" Nel breathed urgently, taking hold of her hand.

Gisella tried for a smile, "blast this weak constitution of mine. Quite a shock, wouldn't you say, my dear girl?"

Nel's brow furrowed with concern, and she patted her arm consolingly. "Do not worry about this. I am sure that Grimmjow will get to the bottom of this. Let us get you home."