“No need.” Caroline straightened up, pulling her shoulders back. “I know the way.”
Heading up the stairs to the mysterious study that she was, ordinarily, prohibited from entering, she asked fate for a sign.
If the door is even slightly open, then things will improve this week.
Turning left on the landing, making slow progress down the hallway, she squinted into the gloom. But it was not until she was almost nose to wood with the study door that she saw her answer—it was firmly closed.
It was too vague. It means nothing,she told herself, knocking lightly.
“You can leave it outside,” Max’s voice replied.
Caroline opened the door, anyway, echoing Max’s intrusion on their wedding night. He looked equally shocked, raising his wide-eyed gaze from an enormous ledger.
“Oh…” He closed the ledger and set it down with athump. “I did not realize it was you. I should have known by the knock. Mrs. Whitlock likes to really pound on the door.”
“Judging by your expression, I would not be surprised if you had forgotten I was even in your house,” Caroline replied, forcing what she hoped was an affable smile.
He frowned a little, perhaps confused by that smile. “I confess, I have been distracted.” He gestured to an upsettingly tall stack of correspondence, ledgers, dossiers, and papers. “Now,wasthere something you wanted? I really must be getting back to it.”
“I suppose you would have had time to manage all of this beforehand if you had known you were to be married,” Caroline said, confidently striding across the room and sitting herself down in the chair opposite her husband.
The study was a far cry from the one that had gotten her and Dickie into such a mess. Where that had been steeped in elegant academia, giving the impression of a headmaster’s domain, this study was airy and decidedly sparse.
Max sat in a white-and-gold brocade chair at a modest writing desk. A solitary bookcase nudged up against one wall, filled with more of those hefty, leatherbound ledgers. Aside from the chair where Caroline sat, a threadbare rug on the floor by thefireplace, and a charming portrait of a spaniel, there was nothing else in the room.
“Indeed,” Max said tightly.
She pointed to the portrait. “Is that your dog?”
“No, I believe it belonged to the former duke, but I thought he looked rather handsome and sweet, so I keep him within my sight for encouragement,” Max replied.
She squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was teasing. But he seemed to be entirely serious… and the tiniest corner of her frosted-over being began to thaw. For such an imposing, dutiful, masculine man, she had not expected him to have any sense of whimsy.
“Do you like dogs?” she continued.
His demeanor warmed as if he had just reached home after a lengthy, difficult journey. “I adore them.”
“I always wanted one, but I was never allowed,” Caroline said, folding her hands in her lap. “Have you ever had one?”
“When I was a boy, I begged my father and the kennel master to let me have one of the old hounds. Bessie, her name was. I adored that darling girl though she was half-deaf, had not a single speck of brains between her floppy ears, and barked at the slightest thing. She passed shortly before I was due to leave forEton.” He cleared his throat as if he had said too much. “So, I never had another.”
Caroline arched an eyebrow. “You were well-paired then.”
“Some might say so,” he replied, with the ghost of a smirk. “And you? Did you ever have a dog?”
“I just said that I did not.”
“Yes, of course. See, you were right—Bessie and Iwerewell-paired. Half-deaf, you see.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat. “With respect, Caroline, was there something you needed? These letters and ledgers will not wait.”
She could have kicked herself for pointing out his error instead of asking him more about Bessie, enjoying some banter. Indeed, she would havelovedto hear more about Bessie, observing Max’s face when he talked about something he liked. It was peculiar how a smile and some warmth could make himimpossiblyhandsome, to the point where she could forget her unrest about their marriage and just admire the Lord’s most perfect handiwork.
But she could not turn back the clock or steer the conversation back to Bessie.
“Actually, I thought I might offer my assistance,” she said, sitting straighter in her chair. “You have a lot to do. I am excellent witharithmetic and organization, and I am not inexperienced in the running of an estate. So, let us do it together.”
Max stared at her blankly for a moment… and then burst out laughing, the rich sound turning icy as it reached Caroline, bristling down her spine. All of her goodwill drained out of her as her eyes narrowed into a glare, irritation burning across her skin like a rash.
“I do not see that there is any reason for laughter,” she said, offended. “Would you laugh at my brother if he had offered the same thing? Would you laugh atyourbrother? Would you laugh at Anna if she was in my place, trying to lighten your burden?”
