It really was ridiculous. Because Marguerite knew that Percy hadn't been here long and had to adjust. It was nearly four months for her and she still had issues adjusting. And truly, Percy was doing well with the adjusting and she had known plenty of men who had grown up in the way Percy had who would be taking this whole situation in far more dramatic turns, far less willing to adapt. The ability to adapt had undoubtedly saved Percy's life while he was being the Pimpernel. In adjusting to whatever was thrown at him for whatever costume he was wearing at the time. Because times in France from when they were from? They were always changing. Always dramatic and one had to be careful.
Hearing the footsteps of her husband, the petite actress sighed and brushed her hair out of her face, taking the cucumber as he handed it to her.
"That's one word for it."
Well, she hadn't lashed out at him. That was something. Being a passionate person, it was easy for Marguerite to fly off with her emotions, to feel everything so very deeply and respond as such. So okay, right now she was just in a bitter mood, not uncommon for how she sometimes got during the lies and secrecy. And it was almost always about clothing. The money he spent on them when there were people starving. Even when she tried to have real conversations with him, Percy had deflected and acted the fop. And she couldn't go through that again. Especially when there was absolutely no reason for them to have that wall between them.
Moving to the sink in the tiny kitchen, Marguerite washed the cucumber. Most of the food was at least provided for those in the complex and Marguerite did try to add to it whenever she had the chance to, but she still would rather not waste a perfectly good cucumber just because she was frustrated and upset. Because she didn't know why he was acting this way, why the amount of bags they brought was such an issue. She knew that fashion was still rather big here and it was a way of life. But was it so bad to have to reuse things? She didn't think so.
"Because I really cannot see a reason for it. There are no secret identities, no suspicion to deflect." Grasping the knife, Marguerite turned to go back to what she was doing. "I'm not selling myself just so you can have an unlimited wardrobe, no matter how important you seem to think it is. There are more pressing things to worry about, whether you like it or not."
Marguerite had never been good at holding things in, which at least did mean she would talk about things. And maybe she was acting just as irrational given the comment, but her job at the theatre really didn't pay all that much, the initial gift card only could get them so far, and really. War. They were in a damn war and going to camp to be prepared yet Percy was bothered about clothing. She shouldn't be so harsh because she did understand. But it still was upsetting and confusing and it was better than believing that Percy was lying to her again.