for life, and Phoebe would discover if he had really understood what that meant. She admitted to herself that she wanted more than anything for Max to want to marry her still, but she would not pretend to be something she was not. Growing up and doing her best not to create a scandal every time she set foot out of the door was one thing, but acting the part of dutiful, well behaved wife who sat at home doing needlepoint was a role she had no desire to play, and was not one she could even contemplate.
It was all or nothing and, tonight, Alvanly would not be the only one playing for high stakes.
Chapter 17
Brother,
I will be with you again by late this evening, but I have just received word from Lemoine that a certain Baron Alvanly will try to gamble upon the value of a painting, which is, in fact, a fake. The Earl of Ellisborough and Viscount Kline are in pursuit of this man, and I am assured that they will deal with him. Although I know you would prefer such an affront dealt with swiftly and by your own hand, remember that we have no wish to involve ourselves in an affair of honour with the English. It is more than likely we may have need of their good opinions in the future, and I would rather cultivate their friendship than interfere in something that does not concern us. A warm welcome across the Channel would not go amiss for either of us. After all, we have enough on our plates at present.
I beg you to stay out of it and do your utmost to further relations with our guests. Lemoine has ascertained that the Lady Ellisborough is the adopted daughter of the Marquess of Montagu and that is an association we would be foolish not to nurture.
Make friends for once in your life, Nicolas, not enemies.
―Excerpt of a letter to Nicolas Alexandre Demarteau from his brother, Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.
Translated from French.
11th April 1827. Hôtel Westminster, 2nd Arrondissement, Paris.
Max repressed the desire to sneeze and moved away from the lavish display of hothouse flowers in the centre of Hôtel Westminster’s sumptuous marble entrance hall. Viscount Kline shifted beside him, looking as though he was anticipating Mrs Abercrombie’s appearance as much as Max was Phoebe’s. Max knew well that she would test him tonight, that any decision Phoebe made about their future would be based in some measure at least, upon how he treated her and he was not going to mess it up again.
Any musings or decisions about exactly how he would behave came to an abrupt halt as his eyes lifted to the staircase, and his vision filled with an image that would be seared upon his brain for all time.
“Holy God,” he murmured under his breath.
“Courage, man,” Kline said in his ear, his voice full of amusement.
Max dragged his eyes from Phoebe for a bare moment, to see Kline watching Mrs Abercrombie make her way down the stairs, dressed all in glittering black and silver.
“Once more into the breach,” Kline said softly before meeting Max’s eye and winking. “I was ever a fool for a beautiful woman. Pray I make a wiser choice this time, my friend.”
Max let out a huff of laughter and turned back to Phoebe. Choose me, he willed her silently as she moved towards him, vibrant and smiling, her eyes more blue than grey this time, a summer sky bright with the promise of endless days and passionate, warm nights. Longing swelled his chest, his heart aching with wanting her, with wanting to be worthy of her. He would not fail this time, for if he did, he did not deserve such a prize.
“Good evening, Max,” Phoebe said, her gaze moving over him, studying the black and white of his evening attire. She returned her scrutiny to his face, her blue eyes darker now and he felt a surge of heat, of pride, as he realised she wanted him too. Badly. “You look terribly handsome.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I believe it is I who is supposed to bring compliments, my lady, but you have chased the words, and any ability to wield them, clean away. You astonish me, as always, Phoebe.”
She returned a mischievous look, her eyes glimmering now. “Well, I shall take that as a compliment, though I suspect it could go either way.”