She stopped, staring with hunger and renewed pain at Max’s tall frame by the door. She couldn’t let him in, for with just one glimpse of him, the composure she’d drawn around herself this morning like a protective shield was already slipping. She moved to step back, thinking to retreat upstairs again, but thenhe leaned forward, cupping his hands to the glass, and saw her.
Straightening, he gestured to the door, indicating she should let him in, making it too late for her to run away.
Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door. Her hands shook as she slid back the bolt and opened the door.
“Good afternoon,” she said, trying to smile as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
He didn’t smile back. His face was grave, his eyes dark and opaque in the afternoon sunlight. “We need to talk.”
Her mask faltered. “What is it?” she asked, stepping back, pulling the door wide to admit him. “Has something happened?”
He came in, closing the door behind him, taking off his hat. “I can see you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
His lips pressed tight together, and a knot of fear twisted in her stomach. Something was very wrong. “Max?” she prompted when he didn’t answer. “What am I supposed to have heard?”
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a newspaper. He handed it to her without a word.
Evie stared at the printed words, trying to take them in. Compromising letters, secret meetings, smears on her character that blackened her reputation with callous disregard. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, looking up. “The note you sent me, where you told me not to eat first because you were bringing a picnic dinner for us. They got hold of it?”
“It appears so, yes.”
“I noticed it was gone when I got back and unpacked,” she murmured, a strange numbness coming over her. “I thought I’d left it behind, but I must not have done. But how could anyone get hold of it?”
“Your maid would be my guess. She may have taken it for money, or been an innocent dupe, it’s hard to say.”
Evie’s numbness shattered, and her knees gave way.
He caught her, dropping his hat to pull her hard against him. “It’s all right,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “It’s all right.”
His words, such a palliative, tore a laugh from her throat, a caustic sound of disbelief rather than humor, for she knew nothing could be made right after this. A woman’s good name, once lost, was almost impossible to regain. She pulled away, stepping out of his hold, taking a wild glance around, wondering what would happen to her now. No one would come to a shop owned by a fallen woman. “Oh, God,” she choked, and suddenly, she felt as if she were suffocating. “Oh, God.”
“Evie, listen to me.” Max closed the distance between them, putting his hands on her arms. “You will be all right. I will take care of you.”
She laughed again, a wild laugh with an edge of hysteria. “The scandalmongers seem to think you’ve been taking very good care of me already.”
“That isn’t what I mean. Evie...” He took a deep breath. “Marry me.”
“What?” she whispered, unable to completely take it in. “What did you say?”
“I want you to marry me.”
This was becoming more unreal with every moment. “You don’t want to marry me. You’re only proposing out of obligation.”
“Of course I feel an obligation. How could I not, given that I am to blame for all of this? But if you think the idea of marrying you was not already on my mind, you would be wrong.”
She was stupefied. “What?”
“Why do you think I abandoned the idea of marrying Helen? I told you at the ball I can’t marry simply for suitability. What did you think I meant?”
“Not marrying me,” she countered at once. “Given your history and my background, I can’t imagine why you’d even consider such a thing.”
He smiled a little. “And I can’t imagine how you think I wouldn’t consider it, especially after you seduced me so shamelessly last night.”
She stared at him, diverted by an appalling new thought. “Max, you don’t believe I came to your room to gain a marriage proposal, do you? Because I didn’t. I would never attempt to trap a man with something like that. I’m sure there are some women who’d happily try such a low trick, especially with a man like you. You’re a duke, after all, and terribly rich, but you know I don’t care about any of that, so I hope you don’t believe I—”
“Evie,” he cut in gently, “I was teasing.”
