The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,43

felt convinced that his problems were over. His household would be peaceful again. Soon he could be about settling his own future. He smiled across at the golden vision, content that his planning would soon come to fruition.

Chapter Eight

Lord Bancroft Paige was perched on the edge of a chair in front of the mahogany desk, his polished boots pressed together and his hands on the knees of his tailored biscuit-colored trousers. Although Max had made small talk in order to put the man at his ease, all his best efforts had been wasted. Like a primed pump, Paige was ready to blurt out his news at the least opening.

"Saw you at Tattersall's last week," Max said, leaning back in the leather chair and stretching his legs. "Were you after the bays or that black stallion?"

"The bays, sir," Bancroft said. For the first time in the interview he relaxed against the back of the chair. "A pair of sweet goers if I ever saw them. Thought to add them to my stable but Percy Waterston was before me. I was surprised since I thought the man was sadly dipped."

"I had heard some such story but I hadn't given it much thought," Max drawled. In actual fact, he had given it a great deal of thought. Since he planned to offer for Honoria it concerned him that rumors persisted that her brother was an inveterate gambler. The times that he had seen Percy he found the stories too credible. And now to purchase those bays. Must have had a run of luck. "Did you find any other cattle to suit?"

" 'Fraid not, sir," Bancroft said, his expression glum. "Thought the bays would have shown well. I must admit I was hoping to impress your ward."

"Amity? I fear you're well out there. Miss Fraser is unimpressed with the normal run of the mill thoroughbred," he smiled in remembrance. "You must ask her sometime to show you Lady Guinevere, a mare she purchased last week."

"A hunter?" Bancroft asked.

"I shouldn't think so," Max said, shaking his head. "Although at this point it's most difficult to tell."

"Beg pardon, sir?"

"Devil take it, Paige," Max snapped in exasperation, bringing the man to sharp attention on his chair. "If you call me sir one more time I shall throw you out on the street. Makes me feel positively decrepit. By gad, sir, I can't be above five years older than you. Call me Max."

"My apologies, si-Max," Bancroft stammered all too conscious of the dangerous gleam in the man's eye. "I was trying to show proper respect."

"Get on with it, Bancroft. I seem to be in an ill humor today but it has little to do with your errand." Max rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why he was feeling so savage. He knew why Paige had requested the interview and he should be delighted. He sighed in resignation, determined to be gracious. "Was there anything special you wished to see me about?"

"Well, yes." Bancroft edged to the front of the chair, smoothing the material over one knee before he raised his head. His face was flushed and in the early morning light a sheen of perspiration glimmered on his forehead. "It is about your ward."

"Miss Fraser? How singular." Now that the time had come, Max decided to be as difficult as possible. After all he needed to find out if the man had character of his own or had borrowed courage from his sister.

"Over the last few weeks I have had an opportunity to observe Miss Fraser and I find her to be a charmingly mannered young lady."

"You observed her, you say?"

Bancroft missed the glimmer of humor in the other man's comment and became more agitated. "I was not spying on the girl!" he said much offended. "It was just that I have been aware of Miss Fraser when we have chanced to encounter each other."

"How splendid."

Finding small help from Max, Bancroft stood up, too restless to be confined to the chair. He tugged his jacket to remove any wrinkles and then paced in front of Max's desk, running a hand through his carefully arranged curls, much to their detriment. It was several minutes before he felt composed enough to broach the subject and then in a burst of energy he spoke. "I should like your permission to pay my addresses to your ward, Miss Amity Fraser."

"That's the ticket, Bancroft," Max applauded. "For a moment there I thought you might refuse the fence."

"Sir?" he said in bewilderment.

The man