Page 35 of Impossible
He wanted to ask what she meant, but didn’t. She’d just said she was trying not to trust people too easily. Perhaps she meant him, particularly since she was apologizing.
She waved her fork. “I’m hopelessly doomed to try to make friends with everyone.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” he said, wondering if he could try that. Well, perhaps not that exactly, but something like it. She’d talked about living instead of existing. That appealed to him, even if he didn’t quite know how to go about doing so.
He supposed he could start by taking notice of those around him, by caring for his retainers and his tenants. “You can hire people for the household—maids for the kitchen and Mrs. Bundle.”
She stared at him, her fork frozen above her plate. “Can I?”
“No valet. I’ll consider a butler, but he has to be just right. And I’ll speak to Og about the grooms.”
“Thank goodness. I’d rather not have to manage that aspect. Speaking to Og, I mean. Would you like me to see about hiring grooms after you do so?”
“Yes, please. I doubt Og would do it even if I asked.”
“I’m so thrilled.” Her enthusiasm nearly made him smile. She stood and went to pour herself a cup of tea, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Would you like a cup?”
“I prefer coffee in the morning.”
Nodding, she found the coffee, poured him some, then returned to the table with both.
“To new beginnings,” she said, lifting her tea toward him.
“Er, yes.” He raised his coffee awkwardly, and she tapped her cup against his.
After swallowing, she said, “You won’t regret this.”
He didn’t think he would. In fact, he felt a tad lighter already. After a few more bites and another drink of coffee, he set his napkin on the table.
“You’re finished?” she asked.
“I thought I’d go and speak with Og now.”
“Why do you never finish eating?” she blurted.
He tensed. The Max he’d been would have told her to mind her own business, and he would have stamped from the room. Instead, he took a steadying breath. “I lose my appetite.”
She almost looked surprised that he’d answered. “Why?”
The urge to glower at her and simply walk away was overwhelming. While he didn’t want to do that, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give her an honest answer either. He wavered on whether to politely decline to answer or—and this made him queasy—respond with the truth.
“My meal was interrupted once, and I haven’t been able to finish one since.” He didn’t give her the details, but they rose in his mind. The summer evening, the boy running to tell him that he’d seen soldiers coming from where Lucia had been cleaning clothes, the terror that erupted inside him as he ran to find out what had happened. The bloody ribbon…
“Does that frustrate you? Not being able to finish meals, I mean.” She leaned toward him slightly in what appeared to be genuine concern.
“I haven’t thought too deeply about it, but I suppose it does, particularly since Mrs. Debley is such a fine cook.”
“Hmmm. I will ponder this.”
Max realized that she saw him as something to fix. While she wasn’t wrong, he didn’t like being the subject of such scrutiny. Though, he suspected that was precisely what had been happening since she’d arrived. She was, rather openly and unapologetically, a very inquisitive and managing person.
“You needn’t bother.” He stood. “I’m not your assignment, Miss Treadway, as much as you’d like me to be.” Shehadprovoked him to make a few changes, but that would be the extent of it.
She pursed her lips before he turned to take his leave. Max didn’t look back.
He made his way directly to the stables, finding Og with Topaz. “Good morning, Og.”
Og looked up from brushing the horse. “‘Good morning’? You look like his lordship, but you can’t be him.”
