'Tis the Season for Lady Sarah - Maggie Dallen Page 0,38

and never returning. You will be quiet.” Then Max pointed at Theo. “And you will explain. Now.”

Theo cared for Max like a brother. But he loved Sarah with all of his heart. “I must insist we return to the house. This is no place for such a conversation.”

Max spun in the snow and began marching back toward the house. “Fine. But you can begin your explanation on the way.”

Theo fell in step next to his friend and Stallworth began to trail behind them, but Max raised his hand. “Please finish collecting boughs, Mr. Stallworth. Decorations will go up tonight.”

Theo breathed a momentary sigh of relief to hear Max’s voice return to normal, but Max’s next question left Theo cold. “Did you kiss my sister?”

Theo drew in a slow breath. “Yes.”

Max didn’t say another word as they approached the house and Theo didn’t speak either. Because he wouldn’t talk for Sarah. And because...he knew she didn’t want him the way he wanted her.

With every step, Max moved faster until he was practically running up the front stairs.

They reached the doors and Max burst through them, barreling down the hall. Theo kept pace, ready to do...whatever was necessary. He just had no idea what that was.

But as Max threw open the salon doors where all the women currently congregated, dread dropped like brick in his stomach.

“Sarah,” Max bellowed, pointing across the room where Sarah sat holding a book of poetry. Upside down. “Sarah,” he said again when she didn’t immediately rise.

She stood then, carefully handing the book to Lady Abigail, who sat next to her. “Yes?” Her voice was calm, cool. Theo relaxed too. Whatever else, she’d face this with all the grace the situation required.

“The Earl of Everly would like to propose.” Max turned toward him, looking at his friend with a dark glare that Theo had never seen before.

“What?” Sarah squeaked. “Max? What’s the meaning of this?”

“You know very well.” Max spun back, pointing at his sister. “Which is why when he proposes in a few moments, you will accept.”

Sarah’s face paled as several gasps spread about the room.

Max turned back to Theo. “Well?”

Theo met Sarah’s gaze, her eyes pleading with him to do...he wasn’t certain. But if he’d made mistakes before, he’d not repeat them. Not now. Or he’d try very hard not to. The single word stuck in his throat. “No.”

“No?” Max asked, drawing up to his full height. “No...what?”

“No, I will not propose. No, Sarah will not accept.” There. He’d said it. It was either the worst mistake of his life or the best choice he’d ever made.

14

The dowager marchioness let out a cry and promptly swooned, landing on a settee.

Sarah rushed to her mother’s side, wrapping her arms about her mother’s shoulders, fanning her face. Then she looked up at Max. “Are you happy now?”

“Me?” Max cried. “This is your fault.”

She arched her brows, glancing around at the crowded room meaningfully. “I chose to make a public spectacle?”

Max took a half step back, bumping into Theo, who rested a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should take this discussion to your study.”

Sarah stood, planting her hands on her hips. Her poor, broken, mangled heart was being put through another form of torture, and her head…

Her head knew not what to make of this. She found herself glancing over at Abigail, as if she might know. Abigail gave her a sympathetic wince as she shrugged.

No help there.

Marigold and her friends were merely staring at the gentlemen with wide eyes, clearly speechless at the scene before them. And Theo…

She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Theo.

Why would Max force him to propose?

And why would he refuse?

She closed her eyes tightly as a wave of pain washed over her. The answer was obvious.

He’d refused to propose because he did not truly care for her. Not the way that she cared for him. Because he’d realized that she was right and he would never respect her enough to love her. Because—

“I must insist. I need to speak with you in private, Max.” Theo’s voice was a low growl, one she’d never heard from him before. “In your study. Now.”

She watched her brother’s reluctant agreement and tried not to be too bitter that he would listen to his friend but not her.

They were nearly to the door and she felt rather than saw every gaze in the room sweep in her direction. The moment they were out of sight she would be expected to answer questions.

“Sarah,” her mother