Page 61 of Impossible
“Max?” Dougal shook his head. Then came the smile, or at least a hint of it. “I mean, Warfield. I apologize for the many times I will likely forget.” His features creased with genuine joy, and Max was hard-pressed not to feel a rush of sentiment. “It’s been too long, my friend.” His Scottish brogue was thick with emotion.
Then Dougal embraced him, and Max froze. He’d barely touched anyone the past few years. Only Ada had gotten this close.
Giving Max’s back a thump, Dougal stepped back. “It’s so good to see you.” He looked to Lucien. “Did you know he was coming and not tell me?”
Lucien shook his head. “He surprised me as well.”
Dougal looked from Lucien to Max. “Would it be boorish of me to suggest we abandon the assembly and go directly to the Siren’s Call?”
Laughing, Lucien said, “No, but I can’t leave my own damn club in the middle of an assembly. I haven’t thought of the Siren’s Call in years. Tomorrow night?”
“I think we must,” Dougal said, grinning. He gave Max a pointed look. “Don’t try to refuse. I won’t allow it.”
“I haven’t been out in years.”
Lucien’s gaze was earnest and sympathetic. “If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll leave.”
Max was torn. Facing people—exposing himself—made him anxious. But he’d come all the way to London, so perhaps it was time he tried.
“We’ll force you if we must,” Lucien said with humor, but Max recalled the numerous visits he’d paid to Stonehill over the past few years and how he’d tried to force Max to do any number of things. The last time he’d done that, they’d come to blows.
“You won’t force me to do anything,” he told Lucien with a considerable chill. “I’ll go.”
Dougal clapped his hands together. “Brilliant!”
“We were on our way downstairs,” Lucien said. “Care to join us?”
“In a while,” Dougal said. “I just came from there, and after dancing with Miss Jones-Fry, I find myself in need of a large glass of whisky.”
“Are your feet all right?” Lucien asked with a faint grimace.
“They will be.” He grinned toward Max once more, then gave his arm a quick, firm clasp before going to the sideboard.
Max continued from the library. Lucien caught up with him, and they made their way downstairs.
“This way.” Lucien led Max through a wide arched doorway cloaked with dark green draperies. They stepped into the large, sparkling ballroom. Along with the windows across the far wall, mirrors reflected the flames of hundreds of candles in the chandeliers overhead. Dancers glided across the parquet floor, and nondancers were gathered at the opposite end—the ladies’ side. The musicians were situated above them in the mezzanine. It was a marvelous scene, and in that moment, Max was rather proud of Lucien’s accomplishment. He’d always worked to bring people together, both for good and…not so good purposes.
“They’ll likely be on the other side,” Lucien said. “Unless they’re dancing, but I don’t see them. Come.” He walked along the edge of the ballroom.
Max trailed him, trying to keep his attention focused on Lucien’s back so he wouldn’t see people looking at him. Or more accurately, he wouldn’t see their reactions.
He did an excellent job until they were nearly to their destination. Then his gaze strayed to a group of four ladies huddled together, their attention fixed on him. They stood to Max’s left, so of course they could see his scarred face. Two of them wore matching expressions of revulsion while the third looked away. The fourth studied him intently as if she wanted to remember every ripple in his flesh so she could draw it later.
Somewhat repeating what he’d done earlier with the footman, Max sneered before he snapped his teeth together, lips bared, as if he would take a bite from them. All four recoiled, and he nearly smiled.
“Here we are,” Lucien said, stopping. He turned, his expression darkening. “You’re ready? I confess I feel a trifle wary surprising her like this.”
“I’m not going to be rude, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Well, I wasn’t actually, but you make a good point. Though, you seem to be on your best behavior tonight. Or at least better behavior.”
“I’m trying.”
A brief smile flitted across Lucien’s mouth. “I can see that, and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me. Truly.”
“None of this is for you.” Max realized he sounded cruel, but it was the truth. He wasn’t sure if he and Lucien could ever return to the friendship they’d shared before the incident in Spain. If Max thought deeply about it—and when did he ever do that—he might realize he hated knowing Lucien had seen him at his very worst, that it was easier to keep his distance from the one person who had witnessed the worst day of Max’s life.
More than that, Lucien had interfered where he shouldn’t have. Never mind the fact that he’d saved Max’s life. Max hadn’t wanted to be saved, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to be recognized as a hero after what he’d done. “If you please, introduce me to my half sister.”
