Lila raised her gaze. “Will you go down to the dining room now? Can I do anything else for you? I thought I might set out your nightclothes while you are dining, if I may?”
“That would be lovely,” Caroline assured. “Thank you. And thank you for making me look so… duchess-like. I have alwayswanted my hair this way, but my old lady’s maid could never do it.”
She and her mother had shared a lady’s maid, who had remained at Westyork. A kindly but quiet sort of woman who never liked to chatter while she prepared the two women for whatever they were doing. Lila was already wonderful in that regard, filling the silence with talk of everything and nothing.
Lila beamed with pleasure. “I’m so glad you like it, Your Grace! I practice all of the new styles on my sister. She hates it, but she won’t be able to complain now.”
“In that case, for her sacrifices, please thank your sister for me too.” Caroline chuckled and, with one last look at her reflection, she headed out to meet her husband for their very first dinner together.
She was halfway down the stairs when the gong sounded for a third time.
What does that mean? It will be half a lovely evening and half not?
She supposed there was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the dining room, slipped through the partially open door, and stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. The long, oval table had been decorated beautifully, filled with velvety red and crisp white roses, spraysof wildflowers, and sweet bunches of dried lavender and fluffy reeds, sprouting from the top of narrow vases.
Soft candlelight flickered across the stunning scene, highlighting the two places that had been set for dinner… at opposite ends of the dinner-party-length table.
But it was the gentleman in all his finery that drew Caroline’s eye. In a tailcoat of forest green, he stood by the drinks table at the farthest wall with his back to her. Even in the low light, she saw his golden hair curling at the nape of his neck, and those fantastically broad shoulders, straining the seam that ran up the center of the tailcoat.
“Apologies for being late,” Caroline said, realizing he must not have heard her enter. “I… had some trouble deciding on a necklace.”
Max turned, and as he did, he stole the breath from her lungs.
He looked like he had wandered out from one of the pages of the books that Anna kept trying to get her to read. Shedidread them, now and again, though she preferred books that could teach her something. Perhaps, she had been missing out on an entirely different sort of education, all this time.
In truth, when she was not with him, it was easy to forget just how unfairly handsome he was.
“You are not late,” he told her in that deep, gravelly voice, his eyes flitting to her throat. “An excellent choice. Sapphires?”
Caroline nodded, speechless. Who was this sultry, casual gentleman, and what had he done with her harried, preoccupied, reluctant,sarcastichusband?
Husband…It still felt strange, both on her tongue and in her mind.
Max took two glasses off the drinks table, filled with something pale and sparkling, and made his way over to his wife. He passed her one of the glasses and held his own out, both clinking a greeting.
“You look very pretty tonight, Caroline,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
Caroline just stared at him, feeling a sudden prickle of heat across her skin that sank deep into her stomach. As if she had already taken a huge gulp of the drink he had put in her hand.
“Nonsense,” she replied, recovering quickly. “I have had this gown for an age. I doubt it is even fashionable anymore.”
Max went to the chair at the top of the table and pulled it back. “Fortunately, I do not trouble myself with fashions or what is popular.” He gestured to the seat. “Shall we eat?”
“Of course,” she mumbled, hurrying to take her place.
He pushed the chair in behind her as she sat and made his way back down to the bottom of the table. So far away, in fact, that when he sat down, she could barely see him through the veritable jungle of beautiful flowers that he had arranged for their dinner.
“I think you might need a smaller table for less formal occasions,” she practically shouted down to him. “This does not exactly encourage conversation unless I wish to have a sore throat tomorrow.”
He got up again without a word, and as he appeared around the flower arrangements, she noticed he had his cutlery and glass gripped in one hand. Balanced expertly on his other hand was the over-large silver charger that the dinner plates would be served on.
Within half a minute, he was positioned at her side, his place set. He did not seem to mind that he was not at the head of the table. Indeed, he seemed perfectly at ease to her left, leaning back in his chair.
“I suspect moving is easier than purchasing an entirely new table,” he said, taking another sip of his champagne. There was a note of humor in his voice, but any smile he might have offered was hidden behind the lip of the glass.
Caroline shrugged. “Less bold though, do you not think?”
