His mother shook her head. “There is no honor among thieves anymore.”
Max glanced over at her scowling face. He patted her arm. “Well, that is all over for me. Now I can afford to pay for whatever you need.”
She nodded. “Yes, this is a boon for our family. Your new title will give us the opportunities your father always craved for you all. You know that he always did whatever he could to give you three the best life.”
“Yes, of course, Mother,” he agreed automatically. Max knew his father had been motivated by greed. No amount of money had filled his need to have more. He had often expressed his bitterness at having the bad luck of being the younger brother, at having to work for a living. But Max kept his thoughts to himself.
Max glanced ahead to where his sister oohed and ahhed over a table of beaded earrings. His father’s side business had afforded them a pampered upbringing. If his mother wanted to romanticize what he and his father had done fencing stolen goods then he would let her. The last thing he wanted was to tell his mother he had almost died in a Venetian gutter.
“I’ve been wanting to speak about Lady Rivenhall,” his mother said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her.”
Max stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She patted his arm. “She is lovely and very amiable. I can understand your attraction. Is she the one you used to write to when you were younger?”
“Yes, we used to be friends.”
His mother shot him a look from under her lashes. “Just remember she is the widow of your cousin. Now that you are the Earl of Rivenhall, you need to live by the rules of society. Just keep that in mind, Max.”
Max frowned. He didn’t need his mother to remind him that Olivia was his cousin’s widow. He was all too aware that she mourned another man. “I just want to bring her some Christmas cheer. Henry died right before Christmas last year, and she is having trouble envisioning the holiday without him. In fact, so am I. I spent many Christmastide here with Henry. I cannot believe he is gone.”
“I understand. Just be careful, my dear,” his mother warned.
They joined the rest of the family as the ladies looked over a table full of ribbons. Max stood patiently with his hands behind his back as the merits of various colors were debated heatedly by his sisters. He glanced down the row to see what else was part of the market. Across from them, he spotted a table full of small barrels of sweets and wandered over. Sugared nuts, crackled toffee, and jellies of all sorts vied for attention besides colorful marzipan cut into fanciful shapes. The sweet smells of sugar and almonds permeated the air.
The woman behind the table smiled warmly. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Hmmm, yes. Can I get a bag of the orange jellies?”
“Certainly.” She took a tin scoop and filled a small burlap sack with the jellies. Then she tied it closed with a bright red ribbon before handing it to him.
Max paid her and tucked the bag into the pocket of his coat. When he turned, his family had moved on to the next tent. This one sold filigree boxes of various sizes. Snuff boxes, cigar boxes, and larger ones for writing supplies covered the table. Ginny and Louisa huddled over one section and when he stepped toward them to see what they looked at, the girls spun around to shoo him away. “Max, go away. How are we to surprise you if you act as our shadow?”
Max held up his hands and backed away, happy to go wander around. At the end of the row, a large tent housed stacks and stacks of fresh greenery. The spicy smell of balsam drew him down toward the display. Wreaths and beribboned lengths of garland hung from hooks attached to the tent poles, and balls of mistletoe hung with twine from the ceiling of the tent.
His grandmother came to stand next to him. “It smells heavenly in here,” Grand-mère announced. “We should get some to decorate the Hall.”
Max fingered a bough of soft evergreen with bright red holly berries and mistletoe nestled into its woven branches. Perhaps if he hung it up at Belhaven, he could steal a kiss from Olivia. He knew his mother was right about how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Livvy. The sane thing would be to keep his distance until she moved out from Belhaven. He needed to be careful not to risk his heart again on a woman who loved another. But kissing Olivia had infected his blood with her taste. He wanted more, far too much more.
The seller approached—a heavy-set man in a bright red jacket. “Can I help you to select anything?”
Max glanced over at his grandmother, who nodded. He turned back to the man. “Yes, we’ll take it all.”
The man’s mouth fell open. He stuttered for a moment before replying. “All?”
“Yes, have it delivered to Belhaven Hall. Except for these,” he pointed to the balsam bough and a wreath, “and that garland there. I will take those with me.”
“Yes, Lord Rivenhall. I’ll have everything delivered this afternoon.”
“Excellent.” Max paid the man without haggling. Another benefit of his new inheritance, he would never have to haggle over price again. Max gathered up the greenery in his arms. “Sir, can you send someone to the inn with a message for my coachman Kit. Tell him I plan to stay in town longer, and that he should leave my horse at the stables when he comes to fetch the ladies.”
“Yes, sir.” The man snapped his fingers, and a young boy sitting in the back of the tent jumped up. “My son will go immediately.”
“And where are you going off to?” His mother’s voice rang out.
Max turned to find the rest of his family behind him. “I have a special delivery to make.”
Four sets of eyebrows rose high. Max just chuckled. “Time to spread some Christmas cheer. Have fun. Purchase whatever you want. I’ll see you back at the Hall.” He leaned over to buss his grandmother’s cheek and then his mother’s, ignoring her sharp look of disapproval. Then Max whistled “Deck the Halls” as he strode up the main street toward the bookshop.