Phoebe offered a suspicious smile. “Well, I am pleased to discover that the two of you have settled happily into your marriage. The honeymoon must have served you both very well indeed.”
“It was the happiest month of my life,” Caroline said with a sigh, nestling into Max’s side, one hand resting casually on his stomach. As if she had done it a thousand times before. “Oh, Phoebe, I know I had my doubts, I know that Max and I had strange beginnings, but I am grateful for the day I went into that church. I am grateful that the love of my life was waiting at the altar for me.”
It is too much… It is too compelling… It is too believable…
Max’s head whirled, twisting with the turmoil of the unusual feelings that had begun to creep upon him over the past week. Perhaps earlier than that, if he was being honest.
Phoebe raised an eyebrow, lowering her voice as she asked, “With all due respect, Caro, is this real?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Caroline smiled, eyes alight with so much life and vibrancy that Max wondered if this was what it felt like to be a moth, forever drawn to a flame. “Of course it is real! What a thing to say.”
“It is only that… well, I thought that this was a ruse,” Phoebe whispered. “Anna mentioned that letters were sent, with gossiping instructions about how things ‘actually’ happened that day.”
Caroline looked up at Max. “Letters? What letters? Do you know anything about this, my love?”
My love…She said it as if she meant it, increasing the pressure that throbbed in Max’s skull. Why was she keeping up the pretense among people who knew the truth? Was she trying to tease him? Toy with him? Punish him in some way?
“Caro, you know—” Max began to say, desperately needing to remind her of the scheme that he had put in place to save everyone’s reputation.
She cut him off, fluttering her eyelashes, “I know that I adore you. I know that I am eager to dance and that you have not yet asked me this evening. I promise that my feet are quite recovered enough for a country dance or a quadrille. Why, I would even be prepared for a waltz, though perhaps it would be best to save that for our Friday afternoons.”
“Your Friday afternoons? What happens on Friday afternoons?” Ellen jumped on the remark, clasping her hands together theway Anna used to do whenever someone spoke of her favorite romantic novels.
Caroline grasped Max’s lapel. “We dance where no one can see us or judge us. We waltz and then we have tea in the gardens if the weather is fine enough, and I look forward to it with all my heart.”
He blinked down at her, uncertain of what made him more uneasy—that she could be so convincing or that she had used his story about his mother to her own ends.
“Truly, I do not know that I would be able to smile at all if it had been Dickie,” Caroline added, resting her head on Max’s shoulder. “I pity the poor woman who ends up marryinghim.”
Ellen tilted her head to one side. “I thought you and Dickie were great friends. Indeed, when I saw him on Wednesday, he told me as much—he asked me how you were faring but, as I had not seen you, I could not tell him how blissful the two of you seem to be.”
“YousawDickie?” All the fog of Caroline’s antics was whipped away from Max’s mind, leaving behind sharp clarity. “In London or elsewhere?”
Ellen chuckled. “In London, of course. Where else would he be?”
“Where did you see him?” Max pressed.
“At Lord Debenham’s tea party,” Ellen replied, her tone less assured. “Did I say something I should not have done? He said he was going to visit you straight after the party, so I assumed you had seen him too.”
Phoebe put a protective arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Of course you have not said anything wrong,” she insisted, shooting a pointed look at Max. “Between the wedding and the honeymoon and so many society events, I imagine that Max here has had little time to see his brother. Is that not right, Max?”
“Quite right,” he replied flatly, his mind racing.
Of course, he had suspected that his brother was in London, hiding away from the consequences of his actions. But, surely, he had read the scandal sheets? Surely, he knew there was no longer any reason for him to keep his distance when it would serve everyone far better to smooth everything out?
After all I have done for you, Dickie, do I not at least deserve an apology?
It stung, more than Max cared to admit.
“Thatisa relief!” Ellen said, though she did not look relieved at all. More worried, in truth. “Sister, I thought I might pay a visit to the powder room. Would you accompany me?”
Phoebe smiled. “Certainly.” She looked at Caroline and Max. “There is to be a party at our Mayfair residence at the end of nextweek. Invitations will be arriving in due course, but there is no harm in letting you know now. All of the Spinsters’ Club will be there.”
“As will we!” Caroline said hurriedly, still holding onto Max’s arm.
Phoebe bowed her head. “Well then, I look forward to it.”
The two sisters walked away, though Max’s gaze followed them for a while, wondering if they knew more about Dickie’s whereabouts than they were letting on. Indeed, he was so fixated on considering where Dickie might be hiding that he did not feel the tug on his arm until it had become an aggressive pull.
