enough how to deal with him. It was only when he’d spoken of Max thinking of her in such a way she’d become quite… quite….
“Really, he said nothing you need reprimand him for.”
Phoebe crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped her wretched face did not give her away. She did not wish for Max to speak with Alvanly, or for Alvanly to tell him what he’d said.
Max studied her, his jaw tightening. “I see.”
What the devil did he mean by that?
Phoebe glared back at him, realising he thought Alvanly had been flirting with her, and that she’d liked it. Indignation swelled in her chest. Max still thought her a fool, he thought her too silly to see the truth of a man like Alvanly. Well, damn him. Let him think it.
“Is that all?” she asked tartly.
Max nodded and let her go, and Phoebe fled.
***
Max watched Phoebe run from him and tried to fight the wave of furious jealousy that rose inside him. No right, he scolded himself. He had no right to such feelings. Lucian had asked him to keep an eye and he would. He would look out for her and pray he could steer her out of trouble. Max could not make her want him or think of him as a man who desired her, as she clearly thought of Alvanly. That she might throw herself away on such a creature, a fellow who would drink and gamble and whore his way through her fortune and make her wretched too…. It made him want to break something. Max clenched his fists and reminded himself that he was a rational human being, and that breaking Alvanly’s nose for flirting with her was not a rational reaction. It didn’t seem to help.
He took a breath and forced himself to walk the perimeter of the ballroom twice before trusting himself to seek out the baron.
Alvanly looked up as Max approached, a smirk at his lips.
“Well, I wondered how long before you came to speak with me.”
“I had to take the time to remind myself I was a gentleman,” Max replied, his voice as easy and conversational as the baron’s.
Alvanly’s eyebrows shot up. “My, my. I admit, that is… unexpected. I had not thought you would take such a direct approach.”
“I would. Her father might not.”
That gave him pause. There were stories enough about Montagu and the power he wielded for the baron not to take Max’s words lightly. The marquess might attack obliquely, and Alvanly would never see it coming. Max could see the glimmer of fear in the man’s eyes, there and gone in an instant. Alvanly laughed and shook his head.
“Well, either way. Neither of you has a thing to worry about. I like the girl, but I’d not have Montagu for a father-in-law. No dowry, no matter how large, is worth the terror of enduring that for a lifetime, believe me.”
“What are you playing at, then?” Max demanded, sickened that the fellow might be leading Phoebe on, that he might engage her heart and then hurt her with his callous disregard for her feelings.
The baron laughed, shaking his head at Max with a pitying expression. “You poor bastard. She hasn’t got a clue, has she? Well, don’t fret, Romeo, I won’t make her fall in love with me. Not that I think I could, though it is galling to admit as much. She has my measure, I believe.”
Max gritted his teeth, not troubling to deny his feelings for Phoebe. Denial would only confirm the man’s suspicions.
“Why are you hanging about like a bad smell, then?” he demanded instead, restraining the uncouth longing to shake the truth out of him, or worse.
“Now, there is no need to hurt my feelings, old man. I swear to you, I have no desire or intention to trap the girl into marriage. I just like her. She makes me laugh and she enjoys my company. That’s all. I’ll not stand in the path of true love, cross my heart and hope to die.”
Max felt there was truth in Alvanly’s words, but there was something in the man’s expression that he could not like.
“Are you going to demand I stay away?” he asked Max, with a considering tilt of his head.
“No,” Max replied, though it nearly choked him to do so. “You’ll tell her I warned you off, and no doubt that would make her twice as determined to seek you out. No, you do as you please, but you’ll have me to