The Convenient Bride (18 page)

***

Max was changing for dinner when Lucy came into his dressing room. Max smiled at her and leaned down for a kiss.

“If you were hoping
to see me naked, you’re too late,” he said, shrugging into his waistcoat.

“Drat,” Lucy teased. “You have seen through my cunning plan.
I suppose I have no choice now but to strip naked and wait for you in your bed.”

She headed towards his bedroom but a firm arm snagged her around the waist and she felt his breath on her neck as he spoke.

“Unless you want to be late to dinner, I wouldn’t even joke about that!”

“Who says I was joking?” Lucy
relaxed back against him. “Besides, the apéritifs will last the best part of an hour.”

Max began to nibble on her earlobe
and guided her through to the bedroom. She had just turned and begun to unbutton his waistcoat, when there came a knock on the door.

Max groaned and reluctantly stepped away.

“Leave it,” Lucy suggested.

“It’s just the valet with my frock coat. I noticed a stain yesterday evening but forgot to give it to him.”

Although he didn’t like help to dress, every gentleman needed a valet to take care of his wardrobe, just as a lady’s maid did for her mistress.

Knowing it wouldn’t take long, Lucy mad
e herself at home on the bed, just in case Max should be considering having a chat with the man. She removed her sapphire bracelet so that it wouldn’t get damaged in their tryst, but she missed the bedside table and it tumbled to the floor. She could hear Max and the valet talking as she reached over the side of the bed for the bracelet, where a flash of red caught her eye.

She knew what it was before she even touched it, for hadn’t the talk of the weekend been Mrs Porter
’s colourful silk chemises? A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she looked over to Max.

Suddenly she knew she needed to be alone and fled from the room, through their sitting room and into her own bedroom, locking the door behind her, then locking the main door to the hallway.

She began to pace the length of the room as she tried to get her thoughts into some kind of order.

***

Max didn’t know why Lucy had run from the room, so after taking the jacket from his valet, he went around the other side of his bed to see what had frightened her. He expected a rat, or perhaps a large spider given how pale she looked. Lucy wasn’t usually prone to fears but when she first came to live with his family, Michael had tortured her by chasing her with things such as live spiders and once, a half-dead mouse. If he succeeded in catching her, he would put them down her clothes, leaving her with an undue amount of fear of those creatures.

Instead all he saw was her bracelet, which he bent down to retrieve. He picked up the red silk that was poking out from underneath the covers under the bed, thinking that perhaps it was a handkerchief
or a scarf that Lucy had left in here but much like Lucy, his heart sank as he realised what it was.

He dropped
his frock coat and seemed frozen in shock for a moment as the implications sank in, then he dashed after Lucy, only to find her door locked. He pounded his fist on the door.

“Lucy, Lucy let me in!”

“Go away, I can’t talk to you right now.”

Max could tell that she was making an effort to remain calm but he could hear the tension in her voice. He wasn’t taking
‘no’ for an answer though and pounded again.

“It’s not what you think! Please, let me in!”

“No! Max, just give me some time alone.”

He was worried about the wrong conclusions she could
reach if she were left alone; he needed to convince her of his innocence before it was too late.

“I can’t! Lucy, honestly, I have no idea what that was doing in my room.

“Maxwell, please, if you care about me at all, wait for me in our sitting room. Pounding on my door is only going to make me angry and this will take longer.”

He
knew that he had lost this argument, for if he continued to bang on her door, he was proving that he didn’t care about her. He lowered his fist.

“I love you, Lucy, please don’t forget that,” he said,
reluctantly turning away and taking a seat in the living room.

When he realised he was still holding
the chemise, his first instinct was to hide it out of sight, then he reminded himself that he was innocent and had nothing to hide. He placed it on the ornamental table beside him, determined not to act guilty since he wasn’t.

The wait seemed
interminable and the minutes seemed to crawl by like treacle. He wanted to pace but only guilty men had something to fear. He settled for fidgeting since he was unable to sit still, his gaze drawn every five seconds or so to the clock over the mantelpiece.

Just over thirty minutes later, he froze as he heard
the lock turn in Lucy’s door.

Lucy felt rather shaky as she emerged
, but she felt that she had calmed down enough to talk this over sensibly.

“Lucy.” Max stood up. “Please, you have to know I didn’t do this.”

Lucy closed the gap between them and embraced him.

“I do know.
”

Max gripped her tightly, as if he hadn’t seen her in years rather than minutes, then abruptly he pulled away,
placing his hands on her shoulders and staring into her eyes.

“Do you mean that? Really?”

Lucy nodded and smiled, then she removed his hands from her shoulders and sat on the small sofa, pulling him down beside her.

“There have only been a few times in my life when I’ve truly been happy, Max. The first was when my sister, Lorena was born. I liked to pretend that I was her mother and spent as much time
in the nursery with her as I could, until the nanny chased me away. And then she died and no one would tell me why. I tried to listen to their conversations but even the adults didn’t seem to know why. She was small but not that small, she was early but only two weeks…”

Max squeezed her hands.

“Then I went to France when I was 12 and was having a wonderful time. My cousins were all very kind, and thoroughly approved of my immersing myself in the different culture, enjoying their music and the different foods and the like. Then one day I received a letter, saying that my family were ill with scarlet fever. By the time I got back, only my father was still alive, and I wasn’t even allowed to see him in case I caught it too. Now I feel as though my life is perfect once more, and I can’t quite believe that it isn’t going to be taken from me again.”

“Lucy, I never-”

“No, Max, this isn’t your problem, that’s what I’m trying to explain, this is my problem. I’m sorry for how I reacted but I ran because if I had talked to you then, my fear might have made me say something unforgivable.”

Max nodded. “I think I understand. Thank you for explaining it to me.” He had known that she was damaged from her losses but he had never heard it put in such simple terms before. Of course he understood.

“And I realise that my reputation doesn’t make it easy for you to trust me either-”

“Max, I care nothing for your reputation. I know the man that you are and you have never broken a promise to me, but sometimes you might just have to give me time to remember that.”

Max kissed her, softly and sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she assured him, but she didn’t seem nearly so pleased that their conflict was over as he did.

“What else is bothering you?” he asked.

“Who put
it there,” she answered.

Max hadn’t even stopped to consider t
hat yet and he frowned at the thought.

“Giles,” the answer came quickly.

“Max, please, your jealousy over Giles is getting tiresome.”

“I'm not jealous, Lucy-”

“Then why, when we have a house full of guests, many of whom we don’t know particularly well, do you single out Giles? Yes, he is a flirt and yes, he can be a little indiscreet at times, but he isn’t malicious, Max, and he has never been inappropriate with me.”

“He’s probably waiting until we’ve had a terrible row and you’re feeling vulnerable.”

“Oh Max, don’t be absurd, he isn’t bright enough to be that cunning.”

“Then who do you think is behind this?” he asked
, trying to remain calm in the face of her defence of Giles.

“I was wondering if perhaps Madam Poisson could be in the area. Most of us have been out of the house all day at the tennis tournament, so it’s conceivable that she could sneak in and have planted that chemise, especially given that we
now know she has a rather Machiavellian nature.”

“How would she get here? No one could miss a carriage and the driveway is almost a mile long, she couldn’t walk that distance and not be noticed by someone. Assuming that she did manage it, the chances of anyone getting past all the household staff unseen, are even lower.
”

“Well someone must have put it there, Max.”

“I agree, but probably someone who is staying here and can move around without arousing suspicion.”

“And who would you think that person is? Aside from Giles.”

Max sighed knowing that he wasn’t going to change her mind at the moment. “Well, I suppose it’s possible that Marie knows one of our guests, I'm far from the only gentleman she entertained.”

“You think someone could be acting on her behalf?”

Max shrugged. “I don’t see why any of our guests would have a grudge against us, do you?”

“Well, no. Perhaps the staff? Some of th
em did come from London with us; Marie could have offered them money before we left, in return for causing trouble.”

The clock over the mantle gave a small chime.

“Well, I think that figuring out who is responsible will have to wait,” Max said. “Our guests will be waiting for us.”

Lucy nodded and stood. “And let’s try to imply that we have spent the last hour in very p
leasurable pursuits, I don’t want whoever did this to think that it worked.”

Max nodded and picked the chemise up.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting this back where we found it. Perhaps whoever left it will come back to check
whether it has been discovered yet, or not,” Max went into his bedroom and returned a few seconds later, sans chemise and now wearing his frock coat. He held his arm out for Lucy. “Now my darling, let’s try and put this out of our minds for a few hours and have a pleasant evening.”

Instead
of taking his arm, Lucy took ahold of his lapels and pulled him down for a sinfully enjoyable kiss, which not only served to help relax her after the turmoil of the past hour, but also left them looking ever so slightly rumpled.

“I’m terribly sorry we’re late,” Lucy said with a beatific smile as they swept into the parlour. “I had a little trouble
with my gown.”

She could see a few people exchanging knowing glances
, so she knew her lie had been taken in the correct vein. Her kiss-reddened lips and Max’s satisfied smile, only added weight to their story.

Having obviously been waiting for them, the butler rang the bell to signal dinner and the couples filed through to the
dining room. Max and Lucy had to sit at opposite ends of the table, but their earlier kiss had ignited both their passions and they couldn’t help but exchange a few ardent glances around the candelabrum.

She tried to look for any odd behaviour among her guests but everyone seemed
to be acting normally. Given Max’s suspicions, she paid special attention to Giles but he seemed as carefree as he usually was, flirting with the ladies on either side of him, regardless that Mrs Booth was married and that Miss Martin only seemed to have eyes for someone else. Giles caught Lucy’s eye and smiled a few times but that was customary for him.

After dinner
the ladies withdrew to the drawing room and Miss Steadman regaled them with a few songs on the pianoforte, at which she was very talented. Then Miss Beaumont took a turn and after her first song, the gentlemen joined them. Max took a seat next to Lucy and kissed her briefly, then they sat politely as Miss Beaumont played. She wasn’t as proficient as Miss Steadman, but she had a more melodic voice.

She noticed Max paying more attention to their guests than usual, probably looking for any unusual behaviour, as she had been. When finally it was an acceptable hour, they excused themselves to go to bed. Some joined them while others stayed up, playing cards or talking.

“You know,” Lucy said as Max, changed and ready for bed, joined her in her bedroom. “We might have overlooked a suspect in the chemise saga?”

Max could tell from
her tone that she wasn’t being completely serious.

“Oh?” he said, stripping off his night shirt as he climbed into the bed.

“Well it is Mrs Porter’s chemise, and she is the type of lady to buy scandalous underwear. Perhaps she left it as an invitation and when you return it to her…”