Olivia filled her plate with ham and thick pieces of sourdough and baby potatoes covered in dried thyme and rosemary. She ate while Max’s family chatted around her. Max was spending the day with Susanna? One day he is making love to her, and the next, he is courting Susanna Dearborn?You pushed him away, you nitwit! He could be warming your bed, but no, you had to throw up your walls.Olivia stuffed a potato into her mouth. Well, he didn’t have to go running straight to another woman. She slathered butter on a piece of bread and took a huge bite.
“Hungry, dear?” Max’s grandmother raised a manicured eyebrow. “I have never seen you eat with such gusto.”
Olivia swallowed her mouthful of food. “Yes, everything is so delicious. But I think that’s it for me then. If you’ll excuse me, please.” She rose and nodded at the table. “Perhaps I can join you all later for cards.” It turned out that Max’s mother and grandmother quite enjoyed spending their afternoons playing cards. They were always looking to rotate in new players for their running game of whist.
Olivia left the dining room and wandered down the corridor. As she passed the drawing room, she was drawn inside by the smell of pipe smoke. Sure enough, she found Julien reading the paper by the window, his pipe clenched between his teeth. He pulled it out and blew out a long stream of smoke. “Hello, chérie. Were you looking for me?”
She shook her head and wandered over to the window. The sun was out today, and the snow stretched out as far as the eye could see in a blanket of white over the fields. Her stomach churned as her imagination flipped through various scenarios. Max flirting with Susanna, offering her one of his charming smiles, the two of them laughing together, seated together on the sofa, their hands brushing, thighs touching.
“Olivia, what has you in such a mood?” Julien asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“You just grunted.”
Had she? She lifted her eyes to the heavens.Good Lord.She needed to gather her composure. A ball of mistletoe and holly hung from a thin ribbon and it made her think of Max and his kisses. Reaching up, she snatched it from where it was loosely tied to the curtains. She turned to Julien; his eyes widened in surprise. She glared at him, daring him to question her.
Then she marched over to the next window and removed the ball of mistletoe there as well. Olivia stalked over to the fireplace. She had to get on her tiptoes to reach this one, but it came down from its nail with a satisfying rip of the ribbon. She dumped her armful of mistletoe into a basket next to the fireplace. Damn the man and his adorable traditions and charming gifts. Max would be turning all that charm toward a new target, but she’d be damned if she would leave him any excuses for kissing Susanna hanging around the house. Olivia grabbed the basket and moved purposefully to the door. “See you at dinner, Julien.”
The next room to attack was the library. Then she had Daniels fetch a ladder and take down the mistletoe from above the front door. Finally, she made her way to the study. Max had kissed her here in front of the fireplace.No more kissing boughs. They led to nothing but trouble.She yanked down the mistletoe hanging above the mantel with a decisive pull. With the last one collected, Olivia let out a long breath. She set the basket down on the large mahogany desk.
This room already felt like it belonged to Max. There were piles of papers and ledgers covering the top of the desk. He had been hard at work learning how the estate worked. The pair of spectacles that he wore when he read lay atop a stack of books by one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace. The room even smelled like him, like coffee and cedar. She sucked in a deep breath. Was she making the right decision by pulling away?
She twisted around, and when she looked down onto the desk, she spied familiar loopy handwriting. A letter with Max’s name scrawled on the front in Henry’s unmistakable hand lay on the blotter. She flipped it over. The seal was unbroken. How very odd. Why hadn’t Max read Henry’s letter yet?Oh, Henry, I believe you would be disappointed in me. You told me to take chances, but instead, I pulled away from him at the first moment of doubt.
She set the letter down and reached for the stout gold clock from the desk, just a little after two in the afternoon. Perhaps she should have gone and opened the shop today. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to play cards with Max’s mother and listen to her wax on about him and Susanna. What was she going to do with herself the rest of the afternoon?
*
Olivia paced backand forth across the plush carpet runner in front of her bed. Indecision ate at her. Nine o’clock. Max hadn’t gotten back from the Dearborn’s until nine o’clock. At Olivia’s request, her maid had hurried upstairs to report the news the minute he arrived home. Had he really had so much fun with Susanna that he had spent the entire day with her?Of course, he had, you ninny, Susanna is a delight. She is also your very best friend.
Olivia crossed to her vanity and grabbed her brush. Running it through her hair in slow, steady motions usually calmed her and helped settle her mind for bed. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. Susanna doesn’t even want to settle down and get married.
Why does this bother you so much?She had been stewing all day. She tried to read a book to distract her thoughts, but all her favorite books were love stories, none of which had happy endings. She had reread Henry’s letter.Travel, take chances, fall in love, he had instructed. Her brush froze halfway down. She sighed and set it aside.All right, Henry, I will take a chance. But if this goes all wrong, I’m going to spit on your grave.
She glanced over at the clock, midnight.Apropos.Olivia rose, slipped her dressing gown over her night shift, slid her feet into her slippers, and grabbed a candle from the bedside table. She took a deep breath and exited the room.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Max set hisspectacles down on the table next to him and rubbed at his eyes. Reading by firelight wasn’t making his mind tired, just his eyes. Despite the long day, he couldn’t seem to shut off his thoughts. He had spent the evening at the pub in Marbury drinking Lucius Grisham’s excellent ale and brooding. But the frigid ride home had sadly sobered the lovely haze the ale had provided.
Lady Ashby had been a surprise. He knew that she would be an entertaining hostess, but he had not counted on how sharp she was. They had a pleasant luncheon with her parents, and then she had insisted on giving him a tour of the stables to show him her horses. Along the way, she had peppered him with questions about his experience watching the Cossacks perform. A dozen questions later, she abruptly changed subjects and asked him quite directly what were his intentions toward Olivia. He’d been so taken aback that his mouth had hung open. To which she just laughed out loud.
“Maxwell Drake, you don’t think I could see you mooning after her all during Christmas Eve? I know my parents would like me to like you, and you to like me, but I only invited you here to find out what your intentions are with my very good friend.” She shot him a saucy grin. “And to hear about the Cossacks.”
Something about her forthrightness had persuaded him to be honest. “I’m in love with her. I always have been.”
Susanna’s brown eyes widened at his statement. “What do you mean always?”
So he had told her the whole sordid tale. Not about Henry and Livvy’s marriage of convenience, of course, but the rest. How he had proposed a fresh start, and she had rejected him. The words had tumbled out, and Susanna Ashby had been an excellent listener. Another surprise.
“She told us very little about you. Which means she must have feelings for you.”
“That makes no sense,” he replied.
“No, it does. Olivia is very private. The bigger her feelings, the more she shoves them down. It’s like she thinks having strong emotions is inappropriate.” Susanna’s mouth tipped up on one side. “We are very different creatures, she and I. You have to understand that Olivia has dealt with a lot of loss in the past five years. You may need to be more patient with her.”
Max stared into the fire as he pondered his conversation with Susanna.Patience.They had been apart for eight fucking years. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure he was capable of patience. A creaking sound came from across the room. His bedroom door opened, and a shadowy figure slipped inside. The door creaked shut, and Olivia pressed back against it. The candle she carried illuminated her beautiful face.