“I did not know it was you!” she retorted, gasping for breath. “I assumed it was the housekeeper. Indeed, you are not supposed to be here.”
He took a step further into the room. “I am not supposed to be in my own home? Has it been claimed by another in the brief time I have been away? Please, show me to the conqueror.”
“This is not funny, Your Grace!”
One corner of his full lips quirked into a hastily smothered smile. “I did not say that it was. Would you like me to close the door and knock again, announcing myself this time?”
“No, I would like you to close the door and stay on the other side of it,” she said hotly, still bundling herself in as many blankets and coverlets as she could get her hands on.
“Are you that cold?” That half-smile graced his lips once more, annoying Caroline. “It would be easier if I fetched someone to light your fire. Or, while I am here, I could light it for you.”
She glared at him. “I am not cold. I am indecently attired. Do you not listen?”
“I listen, but you are hardly in a state of undress,” he replied, walking to the fireplace to start up a blaze, despite her obvious disapproval. “Now, whenyouburst intomyguest chambers unannounced—thatwas a true state of undress on my behalf.”
Embarrassment smoldered like a furnace from the pit of Caroline’s belly to the apples of her cheeks, her skin prickling as if she had a fever as flashes of that night exploded into her mind. Detailed memories that she had willed herself to forget but had never quite been able.
A figure of perfection… Such defined muscle… Such golden skin… Sculpted by the heavens themselves to inspire awe and amazement.
She shook the wayward thoughts away, choosing frustration and still-simmering anger as her vassal to chase away any semblance of admiration for her husband’s exceptional upper body.
“Did you find him?” she asked curtly, staring at his back as he crouched low and began to stoke a fire.
The blankets and coverlets were beginning to suffocate her, sweat beading on her brow.
“Alas, no,” he replied. “He is akin to a mole when he is in trouble, burrowing deep after ruining perfectly good lawns.”
Lawns?What was he talking about?
“Then why have you returned now?” she continued.
“Because I was tired, and I could not find him,” Max said bluntly as if it should have been obvious. “Finding someone who does not want to be found is twice as hard in the dark, and I am notgoing to spend good coin on an inn when I could have my own bed.”
Caroline gulped, hoping he meant a different bed, in a different chamber, far from her. Handsome and divinely formed and breathtaking as he was, physically, she would not be sharing a room with him. Ever.
“Very well,” she said stiffly. “I can understand that, I suppose, but why bother to knock on my door and disturb me? You did not deem me important enough to speak with all day, so why change that now, when I too am weary? Heavens, you did not even know if I was asleep or not! So, what is it you want at such a late hour?”
She realized what she had said a moment too late, hoping he did not take her question the wrong way. She was about to add something in the vein of, “If it is an apology or a ‘thank you’ that you seek, you shall not get it,” but he got there quicker.
“I saw light beneath your door as I was passing to my own chambers,” he said, breathing on the kindling until it exploded into a flame. The smaller twigs and slivers of wood caught quickly, but he did not rush to put any larger logs on. “I hoped we might have a civil discussion, for clarity’s sake. But I see that you are still in no temper for civility—or humor, as it happens.”
Caroline sniffed. “I have yet to hear you say something amusing.”
“I am your husband,” he replied, turning to look at her.
Her eyes widened, her breath stuck in her throat, thrown by the intensity of his gaze. In that moment, those blue eyes of his were almost as dangerous as Dickie’s, combined with that infuriating half-smile. If there was to be no discussion, would he move swiftly on to something else—something expected on a wedding night? There was assuredly a glint in his eyes, but she could not tell what feeling it stemmed from, or if it was just the reflection of the rising flames.
“I am well aware. What has that got to do with anything?” she muttered, steeling herself.
His eyebrow arched upward. “You asked me to say something amusing, so I did.”
She understood the jest, both infuriated by the fact he thought that was at all entertaining, and mildly embarrassed that she had not understood the joke quicker. She blamed it on the unwelcome distraction of his eyes, and him putting the memory of the night at the Grayling Ball back into her head.
“Caroline,” he said more softly, surprising her with the lack of honorifics. “You can be cross with me if that makes you more comfortable, but do not insult my character by thinking I would knock on your door at night to demand anything of you. You are not in any danger here, with me. There is no reason to fear me. My jests might be horrifying, but I am not.”
Caroline wrapped herself tighter in the blankets, regardless of how stifling they were. “That is easy for you to say—I do not know you. Ergo, I do not know your character or what manner ofman you are. Why, in the carriage, you nearly lost your temper with me.Thatwould suggest a good reason for fear.”
“I have had as vexing a day as you, Caroline,” he replied. “Perhaps, we might give one another some grace. I lost my patience, yes, and I am sorry for that.”
