Page 39 of Impossible
He hadn’t been with a woman in years. Not since Spain. He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. It was natural that after kissing her the other night that he wanted her. Especially since he’d kissed her thinking she was Lucia.
Until he realized he wasn’t dreaming, that he was awake. That it was Miss Treadway in his bed. Somehow, he’d mustered the fortitude to pull away. And it had haunted him since.
Last night had been a torture he’d forgotten—longing for a woman and not being able to have her. She’d sat on the other end of the settee, not terribly far, but she might as well have been in India.
The entire time he’d been consumed with thoughts of her—her lips on his, her body writhing beneath him, the touch of her hand on his neck as her tongue tangled with his. Hell, he was growing hard thinking of her now.
Had she given the kiss a second thought? Or did she think he’d been in the throes of his nightmare, unaware of what he’d done? She hadn’t mentioned it, but then neither had he. He was too ashamed for taking advantage.
And so he’d pretended to read the book about sheep instead of engaging her. She’d tried and he’d remained aloof. Hell yes, he’d been a rake in his youth, but to admit that would be to open a part of himself that was long buried. That carefree lad was gone, killed in Spain, never to return.
Oh, but what a time he’d had those years in London, swanning about with Lucien and Dougal MacNair. Occasionally, his brother Alec would come along. Max smiled, thinking of the good times they’d shared. Until his father had put a stop to their fun.
Max indulged a moment of emotion—he missed his brother. Learning Alec had died when he returned from Spain had been a crushing blow. He simply hadn’t known how he was going to manage. So he didn’t.
You aren’t really alone.
No, he supposed he wasn’t. Apparently, he had a half sister. He now recalled the young woman who’d come here looking for a job several months earlier—just before Yuletide. She hadn’t revealed her identity, not her real one. If she had, would he have employed her?
He didn’t like the answer.
Thankfully, Lucien had been here that day, and Miss Treadway said he’d helped her—Prudence. Lucien had done that again when he’d come here recently pleading for her dowry. Twice, Lucien had rescued Max’s half sister when he wouldn’t. Because he’d been too mired in his despair.
He really was the horrible beast everyone thought. But he knew that already. Hadn’t he aspired to be that awful? It was the best way to ensure everyone left him alone.
Now it seemed he might be ready to…not be alone.
Miss Treadway was right about his half sister, as she was turning out to be about so many things. Their father’s adultery wasn’t her fault. Max was angry with his father, whom he’d admired and whose legacy he couldn’t possibly live up to. Especially after what Max had done in Spain.
Max took a breath to soothe his suddenly thundering heart.
You were thinking about your half sister.
Yes, her. Prudence. Perhaps he should give her the dowry.
He sat back in the chair. Damn. Just look at all the change Miss Treadway had wrought in not even ten days in his household. She was a veritable storm, leaving devastation in her path.
Was she really, though?
In truth, he felt better today than he had in years. He probably owed that to her. He should thank her, but he doubted he would. He wanted to kiss her again so that she would know it was him and not some fevered dream. But he wouldn’t do that either.
She would leave in a few days, and he’d let her go. He just hoped the light wouldn’t go with her.
“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”
Ada looked over at Mrs. Tallent as they walked from the stables to the house. “I understand you’re nervous, but I truly believe this is an easy and excellent answer to what the estate needs.”
Mrs. Tallent narrowed one eye at Ada. “His lordship is supportive of this?”
“Er, yes.” Ada hadn’t found the time to speak with him about Mrs. Tallent specifically, but she was running out of time. “I believe he’s ready to hire a steward.”
“But is he ready to hireme?”
“He needs someone as soon as possible, and you are more than capable.”
“I am also a woman,” she said wryly. “I don’t know a single man who would employ a woman as a steward.”
Ada could understand that view. She’d been shocked when Evie had wanted to bring her back to London so she could work as a bookkeeper at a private club. But Evie had been confident that the owner—Lucien—would hire her. What Ada hadn’t realized was that Lucien saw Evie as a partner in the business. He was the owner, and she was the manager, overseeing the daily operations with Ada’s help. It was a unique and surprising relationship. Would Warfield be open to a similar arrangement with a woman?
