“You said it yourself, Max—Dickie will not be found unless he wants to be found.” She spoke quietly, her eyes worried as they searched his face. “So, if you are thinking of searching the entire city for him tonight, do not.”
He met his wife’s gaze. “Can you imagine how you would feel if you heard from someone else that Daniel was in London, but had not bothered to pay a visit?” He shook his head, realizing he had said more than he wanted to, revealing a side of him thathewanted to keep hidden. “I am tired, that is all.”
“You wish to leave?” Caroline asked, her hand moving up his arm until it paused in a gentle caress at his neck.
He sighed, considering it rather ironic that Dickie could cause trouble even without being present. “No, there is no need for us to leave just yet. You are in your element, you are gaining admiration; I would not be the reason we depart early.” He hesitated. “Besides, it might be the last gathering we attend for a few days.”
“Oh? Why is that?” She grinned. “Have I exhausted you already?”
Max took her hand from his neck and held it for a moment. “We have permission to visit the property that Albert wishes to sell. I thought we might venture there tomorrow or the day after.” He released her hand. “Of course, we will return in time for your brother’s ball, so do not concern yourself with that.”
“Tomorrow?” Her voice wavered. “Very good. That sounds… excellent. But, if I may, how are we going to explain the purchase when we are trying to convince everyone that we are hopelessly in love? Or, rather, whenIam trying to convince society of that.”
Max folded his arms behind his back to further avoid temptation. “We will use a ruse of it being our summer house. As I rarely spend so much time in society anyway, no one will know that we are not together. If they ask, you tell them that I am ‘tending to business.’ That excuse always seems to work.”
“I see.” She nodded slowly. “You have certainly put a great deal of thought into it.”
He could not tell if she was happy about the news or if it concerned her. Nor did he know if the news made him happy. Indeed, he should have been elated that everything was going so smoothly, but where a burden should have been lifted, it only felt heavier.
“You know that I am a gentleman who likes to prepare well,” he replied, cursing himself for missing the sparkle in her eyes. It was all gone now, the performance ended.
“Not interrupting, am I?” a voice suddenly said, very much interrupting.
Max turned to find James Forster approaching him with a smug grin on his face, knowing full well what James was about to do. The seed had already been sown and even when they were young boys at Eton, James had never liked to see someone else have what he did not.
It might be good for Caro. Good for us to not be stuck to one another’s side all the time.
“Your Grace.” James bowed his head to Caroline. “I wondered if I might have the pleasure of dancing the next set with you?”
Max could feel Caroline’s eyes on him, but he avoided her gaze, choosing to look over at the dance floor instead. He would not be the kind of husband who told her what she could and could not do. If she wished to dance with James, so be it; Max would simply stand by and enjoy the distance, hoping it might encourage Caroline to envision a more separate future.
Because that is how it must be. That is what we agreed,he told himself, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest.
“I have no argument,” Caroline replied, her voice returning to its former sweetness. “Why, my darling husband was just complaining of tired feet, but I have some vigor left. I doubt he shall mind if I have one little dance with a friend of his.”
Max knew she was asking for either his permission or his refusal, but he could not look into her eyes. If he did, he feared that he would mind a great deal more than he could ever admit.
“You do not mind at all, Maximilian, do you?” James chimed in.
Max flashed a thin smile at his old friend. “Of course not. Enjoy yourselves. I shall be here, resting my weary legs. I might not be old yet, but the beginning of the London Season has assuredly sapped my usual strength.”
“It is to be expected,” James said with wry sympathy. “You did not have a wife before, and there is nothing a wife loves more than society events.”
Caroline chuckled, but it echoed false. “Quite right, Mr. Forster. I simply cannot help myself, though I suspect that, by next year, the novelty will have worn off somewhat.”
“I hope not.” James offered his arm.
With a confused look back at Max, Caroline took James’ arm and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, while Max retreated further to the periphery, wondering what on earth was wrong with his chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
James turned out to be an excellent dancer, his steps graceful and his movements lively. His conversation, however, left little to be desired. It was as if he had rehearsed the questions he was going to ask before he had invited Caroline to dance, lacking any of the ease and amusement that she relished with Max.
“You are very beautiful, Your Grace,” James said for the tenth time, smirking as if he had just invented flirtation. “Maximilian is a fortunate man indeed.”
Caroline smiled politely as she hopped from foot to foot. “You have mentioned that already.” She turned in a circle, coming back to face him. “But what of you? Do you consider yourself fortunate?”
“What do you mean?” James frowned.
