To Dance until Dawn - Emma V. Leech Page 0,4

be married to the fool by now.”

Phoebe grimaced, still wondering how it was that Max had noticed her predicament. “I would not. I’d rather be ruined.”

“Keep on with pranks like those and you will be,” he said mildly.

With difficulty, she repressed the urge to stick her tongue out at him. She might not be a well-behaved young lady, but she was not a child. The wretched fellow seemed to insist on rescuing her, even on the occasions when she didn’t need it. He always seemed to be witness to her most embarrassing moments, forcing her to take whatever hand he offered to haul her out of difficulty. So, yes, sometimes he rescued her when she needed rescuing, too. She looked around as he chuckled.

“What?” she asked. Did she have chocolate on her chin?

“I was just wondering if you wanted to stick your tongue out at me or stab me with your fork. Going on your expression, it could be either.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes at him.

“Ah, yes,” he murmured. “That was my third option.”

***

The next morning, Phoebe led the children on a treasure hunt she had laid out around the garden. The prize was a lovely picture book with dragons and knights and tales of derring-do, and she was looking forward to reading to them later. It was early yet and most of the adults still abed, though Phoebe thought this quite the nicest time of the day. Their breath blew steamy clouds on the frigid air, the sunlight sparkling on a landscape white with hoar frost as the frozen grass crunched under their boots.

“Where’s the next clue?” her eight-year-old brother Thomas demanded, tugging at her sleeve. His cheeks were flushed with cold, his blue eyes bright with excitement.

“Pip has it,” she said, sending him merrily chasing after his big brother, who was striding ahead with Harriet and Jasper’s son, Cassius.

Cassius and Pip were both eleven years old, and the closest of friends. Bonnie’s twin girls, Elspeth and Greer, were hurrying behind them, determined the boys should not get to the next clue first. Their little sister, Alana, had missed the fun, as had Helena’s youngest daughter, Evie, both having been too sleepy to be roused from bed. The elder girl, Florence, had been striding beside Phoebe, holding her hand, but now ran after the rest of the children, determined not to be left out.

“Good morning.”

Phoebe turned, squinting into the sunshine to see Max striding towards her.

“What are you doing up?” she asked, surprised. “I thought fashionable people were always abed until noon.”

“I’m relieved to discover you believe me fashionable,” he replied. “And whilst I admit I sometimes I allow my indolent nature to get the better of me, I am not blind to the allure of a lovely winter’s morning.”

“That’s nice. Well, if you want someone to talk to, Papa is likely at breakfast now. Oh, Pip, do help Greer, she’s slipped on the ice. Greer… Greer, darling, are you hurt?”

***

Lucian sighed as he saw Phoebe rush off to see to Greer, leaving Max alone without a backwards glance. Matilda had hopes of Max and Phoebe making a match, but she was a romantic soul and always wanted everyone to be perfectly happy. She believed Max was just the kind of steadying influence that Phoebe needed, someone who would keep her safe whilst allowing her rather wild spirit to remain free. Lucian agreed and would approve the match happily, only Phoebe simply did not see the man as anything other than a family friend. Lucian had made this point to Matilda, and it was why he now found himself up at some ungodly hour of the morning. He smiled, remembering his wife and the contented tangle of warm limbs he had left sated in his bed. If not for her insistence, he’d still be there, but she had been adamant that he have a word with Max and give him some advice. How the devil he was supposed to do that, he wasn’t certain, nor did he have a clue what advice to give.

“Max.” Lucian hailed him, but the fellow did not turn, his gaze trained on the children and Phoebe as she led them off into the distance, like some beautiful pied piper. “Max!”

That time he was heard, and Max raised a hand in greeting.

“Have you eaten?” Lucian asked, rubbing his gloved hands together try to get the circulation back to his fingers.

“Not yet.”

“Thank God. Come inside out of this perishing cold.”

Max hesitated, watching Phoebe disappear into the woodland.

“I