Page 101 of Impossible
He just hoped he discovered how to get through the pain of loss—again—without falling into despair.
After sending his cases downstairs, Max made his way to Lucien’s office. He’d spent a perfectly horrid night not sleeping. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the nightmares or not being able to sleep because he was plagued by doubt and uncertainty.
Leaving was the right course of action. There was no reason for him to stay in London.
Lucien stood from his desk as Max stepped into the doorway. “Morning! What happened last night? I heard you were in the club, but I didn’t see you.”
“My shoulder was aching,” he lied. “I turned in early. I wanted to be fresh for today. I thought I might try riding Arrow for at least part of the trip.”
Lucien’s brows jumped. “Wonderful! He should be here shortly. I imagine you’re looking forward to seeing him.”
“I am, actually.” More than Max would have thought. He’d missed his horse. It was just one of the emotions he’d quashed since returning to England.
This reunion with Arrow felt right. He wished he’d been the one to realize he wanted it. But as with everything else in his life since Spain, he’d needed others to give him the push, to make him realize what he ought to do.
“Have you said all your goodbyes?” Lucien asked. “I imagine it will be a while until you return to town.”
Max ignored his question. “I suppose I’ll come back when Parliament reconvenes.”
Lucien grimaced. “I’m afraid you may be an earl by then. I did put it out that you didn’t think the elevation was necessary, but the general consensus is that you deserve it and changing the title from viscount to earl is easier than awarding you a new title.”
“Is it?” As a second son, Max had never paid any attention to that nonsense.
“How should I know? I know as much as you about such things.” Lucien started toward him. “Come, let’s go down to the dining room so we can see when Arrow arrives.”
Max turned and accompanied Lucien downstairs, where they immediately encountered Glastonbury.
“Morning, Warfield, Lucien.” Glastonbury looked to Max. “I brought Prudence to meet Miss Treadway and thought I’d come see if you’d left.”
Damn. Max glanced toward the ladies’ side of the club. He really ought to say goodbye to Prudence before he left since he hadn’t seen her last night. He had, however, sent her a note that morning. Besides, he couldn’t just wander into their side of the club, and that had nothing to do with the paralyzing certainty that he’d encounter Ada.
“You seem a bit pained, Max,” Lucien noted. “Everything all right?”
“I was just thinking I could say goodbye to Prudence in person since she’s here.”
“Actually, I think they just left,” Glastonbury said. “They’re taking an excursion on the Thames.”
They were? Damnandblast. Max had wanted to take Ada onto the water, to help her conquer her fear. She’d done so much for him. Despite that, she’d said she’d let him down. She could never do that.
He’dletherdown. He’d turned away from her last night. He’d done the absolute wrong thing, which was to retreat into himself when things became too difficult.
Bollocks.What was he doing?
“You’re sure that’s all?” Lucien asked.
“No,” Max whispered. He wasn’t sure of anything. Except one thing—he loved Ada. “I’m afraid I’m broken. That I’m not a whole person.”
Lucien stepped closer. “You aren’t broken, and youarea whole person. You’ve come so far. Don’t lose hope.”
“I’d echo that sentiment, if I may,” Glastonbury said quietly. “I feared I was broken for a very long time—most of my life, really. My, ah, family has a mental affliction that occurs in many of us, and I was certain I would be affected.”
Lucien blinked at him. “I didn’t realize that.”
“I worked very hard to keep it hidden. My father was terribly afflicted. It is the reason he nearly bankrupted the viscountcy.” Glastonbury smiled weakly. “I loved him, but he was exhausting. And terrifying. I never knew what kind of day it would be, whether he’d be happy and more like himself or disconsolate and difficult.”
Max’s blood went cold. Glastonbury could have been describing him. He’d been that person, and anyone at Stonehill could attest to that. Hell, even Lucien could. Max darted a glance toward Lucien and flinched inwardly to see that he was watching him.
“You arenotlike that,” Lucien said, accurately assuming what was racing through Max’s mind.
