sighed. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t wise to recommend that she save her histrionics for the stage. In any event, the longer I knew her, the more obvious her true, grasping nature became. She was good enough in the bedchamber and possessed of a mildly amusing wit, but, ultimately, she grew as tiresome as all the others.’
Alastair paused, his eyes losing focus as a hard expression settled over his face. Max knew that look; he’d seen it on Alastair’s countenance whenever women were mentioned ever since the end of his ill-fated engagement. Silently damning once again the woman who’d caused his cousin such pain, Max knew better than to try to take him to task for his contemptuous dismissal of women.
He felt a wave of bitterness himself, recalling how easily he’d been lured in by a sad story convincingly recited by a pretty face.
If only he’d been content to save his heroics for the battlefield, instead of attempting to play knight errant! Max reflected with a wry grimace. Indeed, given what had transpired in Vienna, he was more than half-inclined to agree with his cousin that no woman, other than one who offered her talents for temporary purchase, was worth the trouble she inevitably caused.
‘I’ve no desire to return to London either,’ he said. ‘I’d have to avoid Papa and the government set, which means most of my former friends. Having spent a good deal of time and tact disentangling myself from the beauteous Mrs Harris, I’d prefer not to return to town until she’s entangled with someone else.’
‘Why don’t we hop over to Belgium and see how Dom’s progressing? Last I heard, Will was still there, looking after him.’ Alastair laughed. ‘Leave it to Will to find a way to stay on the Continent after the rest of us were shipped home! Though he claimed he only loitered in Brussels for the fat pickings to be made among all the diplomats and army men with more money than gaming sense.’
‘I don’t know that Dom would appreciate a visit. He was still pretty groggy with laudanum and pain from the amputation when I saw him last. After he came round enough to abuse me for fussing over him like a hen with one chick, he ordered me home to placate my father and the army board.’
‘Yes, he tried to send me away too, though I wasn’t about to budge until I was sure he wasn’t going to stick his spoon in the wall.’ Setting his jaw, Alastair looked away. ‘I was the one who dragged the rest of you into the army. I don’t think I could have borne it if you hadn’t all made it through.’
‘You hardly “dragged” us,’ Max objected. ‘Just about all our friends from Oxford ended up in the war, in one capacity or another.’
‘Still, I won’t feel completely at ease until Dom makes it home and … adjusts to life again.’ With one arm missing and half his face ruined by a sabre slash, both knew the cousin who’d always been known as ‘Dandy Dominick’, the handsomest man in the regiment, would face a daunting recovery. ‘We could go and cheer him up.’
‘To be frank, I think it would be best to leave him alone for a while. When life as you’ve always known it shatters before your eyes, it requires some contemplation to figure out how to rearrange the shards.’ Max gave a short laugh. ‘Though I’ve had months and am still at loose ends. You have your land to manage, but for me—’ Max waved his hand in a gesture of frustration. ‘The delightful Mrs Harris was charming enough, but I wish I might find some new career that didn’t depend on my father’s good will. Unfortunately, all I ever aspired to was the diplomatic corps, a field now closed to me. I rather doubt, with my sullied reputation, they’d have me in the church, even if I claimed to have received a sudden calling.’
‘Father Max, the darling of every actress from Drury Lane to the Theatre Royal?’ Alastair grinned and shook his head. ‘No, I can’t see that!’
‘Perhaps I’ll join John Company and set out for India to make my fortune. Become a clerk. Get eaten by tigers.’
‘I’d feel sorry for any tiger who attempted it,’ Alastair retorted. ‘If the Far East don’t appeal, why not stay with the army—and thumb your nose at your father?’
‘A satisfying notion, that,’ Max replied drily, ‘though the plan has a few flaws. Such as the fact that, despite my service at Waterloo, Lord Wellington hasn’t forgotten he was waiting for me when he was almost shot in Vienna.’ The continuing coldness of the man he’d once served and still revered cut even deeper than his father’s disapproval.
‘Well, you’re a natural leader and the smartest of the Rogues; something will come to you,’ Alastair said. ‘In the interim, while we remain at Barton Abbey, best watch your step. Mrs Harris was one thing, but you don’t want to get entangled with any of Jane’s eligible virgins.’
‘Certainly not! The one benefit of the débâcle in Vienna is that, with my brother to carry on the family name, I’m not compelled to marry. Heaven forbid I should get cornered by some devious matchmaker.’ And trapped into a marriage as cold as his parents’ arranged union, he thought with an inward shudder.
Picking up the decanter, Alastair poured them each another glass. ‘Here’s to confounding Uncle and living independently!’
‘As long as living independently doesn’t involve wedlock, I can drink to that,’ Max said and raised his glass.
Chapter Two
‘No, no, you foolish creature, shake out the folds before you hang it!’
Caroline Denby looked up from her comfortable seat on the sofa in one of Barton Abbey’s elegant guest bedchambers to see her stepmother snatch a spangled evening gown from the hapless maid and give it a practised shake.
‘Like this,’ Lady Denby said, handing the garment back before turning to her stepdaughter. ‘Caroline, dear, won’t you put that book away and supervise Dulcie with that trunk while I make sure this girl doesn’t get our evening dresses hopelessly wrinkled?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Caroline replied, setting down her book with regret. Already she was counting the hours until the end of this dreary house party so she might return to Denby Lodge and her horses. She hated to lose almost ten days’ training with the winter sales approaching. The Denby line her father had bred had earned a peerless reputation among the racing and army set, and she wasn’t about to let her stepmama’s single-minded efforts to marry her off get in the way of maintaining her father’s high standards.
Besides, while working in the fields and stables in a daily regimen as comfortable and familiar as her father’s old riding boots, she could still feel the late Sir Martin’s kindly presence, watching over her and the horses that had been his life. How she still missed him!
Sighing, she closed her book and dutifully cast her gaze over at Dulcie, who was currently lifting a layer of chemises, stays and stockings out of a silken rustle of tissue paper. She should be thankful she’d been delegated to supervise the undergarments and leave the gowns to her stepmother. At least she wouldn’t have to cast her eyes on them again until she was forced to wear one.
Better to appear in some hideously over-trimmed confection of unflattering colour, she reminded herself, than to end up engaged.
‘I’ll help with the unpacking, but afterwards, I intend to ride Sultan before the light fades.’ As her stepmother opened her lips, probably to argue, Caroline added, ‘Remember, you agreed that if I consented to come to Mrs Ransleigh’s cattle auction, I’d be allowed to ride every day.’
‘Caroline,
