Page 58 of Impossible
“Never too far away,” Prudence murmured, a smile lifting her lips. She was so clearly in love, and Ada couldn’t have been more thrilled. No one she knew deserved to be happy more than Prudence.
Perhaps that wasn’t exactly true any longer. She desperately wanted Max to find happiness. He’d suffered so much.
“I still can’t believe you’re the one happily married,” Ada said with a light laugh.
“Me neither. You are far more likely to fall in love.”
“You know I’ve already done that.”
“Just as I know that it didn’t work out,” Prudence said. “My hope for you is that it happens again, but that it’s forever.”
Ada wasn’t sure she wanted that. She’d loved Jonathan very much. Leaving him had been incredibly difficult, but then she’d had no choice. She’d created her own miserable and awful situation because she’d been foolish and overly romantic. Honestly, she should turn her back on romance and perhaps even optimism entirely. That wasn’t her nature, however. So she would continue to be romantically minded—for others.
And yet, she couldn’t deny that she felt…somethingfor Max. She’d come to care deeply for him, but that didn’t mean it was love. Honestly, she didn’t want to think about what she felt.
“As it happens, I’m too busy at present for any of that,” Ada said breezily, glad she’d decided not to tell anyone what had happened between her and Max. What would be the point when it was a singular event?
Lucien had gone to speak with MacNair and Glastonbury. Ada recalled what Max had told her about his escapades with Lucien and MacNair. She wished Max would come to London and see his friends. It would only help his healing.
Perhaps she ought to write to him about that. She could ask about his former horse and Mrs. Tallent, and suggest he come to town. Would he write back? She regretted not seeing him that morning before she’d left. But what was she to do, ask Mrs. Bundle to wake him?
No, it was best that they’d parted as they did. Her last memories of him were of her body entwined with his, their lips joined, and shared joy.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Prudence asked. “I can see you’re thinking about something, as you so often are.”
“Woolgathering, you mean. Nothing in particular. I’m just glad to be home. Now, tell me all about your newly married life.” Ada escorted her to a settee and put Max from her mind.
For about an hour, anyway.
Chapter12
Max shifted anxiously in the hack on the way to the Phoenix Club. It was Friday and there would be an assembly, so he’d changed his clothes at the hotel. He hated that he felt harried, but he’d only arrived in London a short while ago.
He was still irritated that he hadn’t been able to leave Stonehill the day before. The new grooms had started that morning, which meant Og could drive him to London. Except Og had been exceptionally disagreeable regarding the new grooms and leaving them in charge of the animals on their first day. Max had nearly directed one of the new lads to drive him instead.
But Og had insisted he would drive the coach, provided they left today. Max had acquiesced, if only because he understood what it felt like to battle one’s own mind. Og was mired in his ways and in having independence, and Max was asking him to do two things that would cause him stress: welcome new retainers and drive him farther than the village.
The hack stopped in front of the Phoenix Club. Max stepped out and immediately considered climbing right back in. He rarely went out in public and hadn’t in some time. Was he ready for the stares and murmurs his appearance would provoke? His scarred visage was bad enough, but they would also speculate about him and his notable absence.
He pivoted, but the hack was already pulling away. Exhaling with resignation, Max faced the club once more and noted there were two entrances. Because, as Ada had explained, there were two sides of the club. Which one should he use?
The gentlemen’s side, he supposed. But which one was that?
Max loitered for a moment, hoping for some sort of divine indication. Except he didn’t believe in divinity. Not after what he’d seen and done.
Scowling, he was about to march toward the door on the right side of the building when he saw a trio of ladies walk up the short steps. They were quickly admitted inside.
Not that door, then.
Veering left, Max made his way up the steps. The door opened, and a green-liveried footman held it while Max moved inside.
Immediately, he was greeted by another fellow in dark green livery, but this one had gold on his collar. He seemed to be someone of import.
“Good evening,” he said to Max, his voice even with an edge of curiosity. “Forgive me, but I don’t recognize you. Are you a member?”
“Not officially.”
The man’s eyes flickered with surprise and dismay. “Then I’m afraid I can’t admit you.”
