“I am Maxwell Drake. I believe I was expected.”
The man’s mouth opened and closed. “Lord Rivenhall! I am Mr. Daniels, the butler. Welcome, welcome. We were not expecting you until tomorrow. John, who is usually at the door, is ill. Oh, dear. Let me take your coat.”
The poor man was so flustered Max’s annoyance at having to let himself into his own house dissipated. “It’s all right. I did plan to arrive tomorrow but was eager to finish the journey, so I pushed through from Marbury this afternoon.” He handed his greatcoat to Mr. Daniels. “Is Lady Rivenhall at home?”
“Yes, right this way.”
Max followed the butler to the right, down a corridor lit with sconces. The butler opened the fourth door and stepped inside to announce him. Max waited in the doorway and scanned the space. A pretty drawing room with creamy yellow walls and white moldings. Large windows along one wall framed the gloomy landscape outside. Across the room, a settee faced a large fireplace where a cheerful fire roared. And there she was. Her profile was achingly familiar even after so many years. Olivia sat facing a man with dark curly hair and a chiseled jawline. The two were deep in conversation. Then she leaned forward, and the man embraced her in a long hug.
“Pardon me, madam,” the butler approached the two. “You have a guest. Lord Rivenhall has arrived.”
Olivia jumped to her feet, her expression one of guilty surprise. And no wonder, after being caught in an embrace with her lover. The stab of jealousy was sharp in his gut and utterly ridiculous. Lady Rivenhall was a widow of almost a year; she could take any lover she wanted. Of course, someone with her beauty would not be pining away alone.
He cleared his throat. “Please don’t let me interrupt.”
Chapter Two
Maxwell Drake filledthe doorway. His hair was wet from the weather, and his expression enigmatic. Her memories of him were of a tall, lanky boy with a smile that would split his face open. This man in front of her looked stern and forbidding. His boyish features replaced by sharp cheekbones and jawline carved from granite. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curved up in a thin wry smile as he stared at her. Olivia’s heart raced in her chest at seeing him again.
“Max, I mean, Mr. Drake.” Olivia shook her head, trying to gather her scattered wits. “I mean, Lord Rivenhall, what a surprise. We were not expecting you until tomorrow.” She walked around the settee to give herself a moment to gather her composure. But the closer she got to him, the more details she noticed, like the breadth of his shoulders under his fine wool jacket and the golden hue of his suntanned skin. His amber-colored eyes roamed over her as she approached, assessing her as she did him, perhaps looking for the similarities to the adolescent selves who had known each other so well.
She paused before him, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Although his expression was carefully neutral and his posture stiff, his eyes blazed with a wild gleam that reminded her of the boy she’d known. She gave him a tentative smile. “Welcome home, Max.”
“It’s good to see you, Livvy. I’m so sorry for your loss. I didn’t know about Henry until just two months ago.”
Olivia wrapped her arms around her waist. Anger flickered like a small flame in her chest. “Yes, well, I guess when you are off traveling the world, it’s hard to keep up with your correspondence.” Max’s eyes widened at her sharp comment, but she didn’t regret it. Max had broken promises and turned his back on friends, turned his back on her. She faced Julien. “Please let me introduce you to Mr. Galey, he was a dear friend of Henry’s. Mr. Galey, this is the new Lord Rivenhall.”
Julien stood and gave a slight bow. “Welcome, Lord Rivenhall.” He smiled sadly. “That is going to take some getting used to.”
Max nodded. “You and me both. Please call me Drake.”
Olivia held out a hand to Julien, so grateful to have someone to share her grief with. They had each loved Henry in different ways and forged a strong bond of friendship in the last year. He gave her hand a brief squeeze.
“I think I will go find a book from the library. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Julien headed for the door.
Olivia turned back to Max, and she almost took a step back, his dark eyebrows were pulled down, and his lips pulled into a scowl. She straightened her shoulders. “You must be chilled to the bone. Can I offer you anything? A brandy? A hot toddy, perhaps?”
“A brandy sounds good,” Max replied.
Olivia walked over to the sidebar and poured two glasses. A brandy sounded like just the thing to burn away the shock of seeing Maxwell Drake again. Ever since she had received the letter from the solicitor that he would be arriving this week, her stomach had been in knots. She’d told herself her nerves were because his arrival would mean she would actually have to leave Belhaven Hall and do something with her life; that the nerves had nothing to do with the man himself. It had been eight years since she’d seen him last. Certainly, any old feelings of puppy love she had held for him were long gone.
But the minute he walked through the door, her traitorous heart had jumped into her throat. Well, just because he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on didn’t mean she would turn into a puddle at his feet. He had left her behind and not returned. He didn’t deserve even the smallest of fond feelings. She took in a calming breath before turning back to Max.
“Please sit down by the fire.” Olivia handed him his glass.
Max sat and stretched out his long legs toward the fire. He took a sip of brandy and sighed. “This is excellent.”
Olivia sat in a chair to his right. “Henry had excellent taste.” She took a sip and allowed the smoky flavor to roll over her tongue. When she looked up, Max had his eyebrows raised high.
“Since when do you drink brandy?”
Olivia shrugged. Truth be told, she never drank spirits. But tonight called for something stronger than her usual glass of sherry wine. “I’m not the same girl you left behind eight years ago.”
Max drank from his glass. “Yes, I suppose I am realizing that.”
“Besides, tonight is the one-year anniversary of Henry’s death. So, if there was ever a time to have a drink, tonight is it.” She took a larger swallow. One year ago today, her safe existence had been snatched away. Henry had been her protector and her friend. She’d lived in a strange limbo in the year since, not sure where her place in the world would be now. She would not be able to stay at Belhaven unless Max approved of her idea. Even then, she would have to leave the castle. It was not her house anymore.
Max choked on his brandy. “Today?”