Page 63 of Impossible
Max’s expression was impassive and perhaps bordering on irritated, which worried Ada. “I came to give Prudence her dowry.”
Ada brushed the back of her hand against Max’s. It was the best she could do when what she really wanted was to take his hand and kiss it and convey how happy she was that he’d decided to do this.
“That’s wonderful,” Ada said, barely containing her joy.
Max looked down at her, his brow slightly creasing. She had no idea what he was thinking.
Cassandra, who stood between Glastonbury and Lucien, smiled at Prudence. “Better late than not at all, I suppose.”
Max flicked a glance toward Prudence, but fixed his gaze across the garden. “I want to apologize for not giving it to you before. I was, er, shocked to learn you existed.”
Ada could feel his tension. She inched closer to him, hoping her nearness would soothe him. Or at least let him know he had an ally.
“Is three thousand pounds adequate?” Max asked.
It was an astonishing sum, but Ada knew he could afford it. She brushed her hand against his again, hoping he understood how proud she was of him. She’d tell him so as soon as she had the chance.
Prudence exchanged a look of surprise with her husband before she addressed Max. “That’s most generous, thank you. I know you don’t have to give me anything. By law, I have no claim whatsoever.”
“You aren’t responsible for the circumstances of your birth,” Max said quietly, which was almost exactly what Ada had said. “Nor are you to blame for my father’s perfidy.” The anger and hurt in his voice were unmistakable.
Prudence’s features softened. “Thank you. No one was more distressed to learn of my real parents than me. My mother—the woman who reared me—told me before she died, and I sometimes wish I didn’t know.”
Max nodded slowly. “I can understand that. I wish I didn’t know that my father had been unfaithful. It rather changes what we thought we knew to be true, doesn’t it? The very way we view the world.”
“Precisely,” Prudence said softly.
Ada’s heart swelled. She hoped she was seeing the beginning of a wonderful sibling relationship—they could both benefit from it. Or perhaps Ada was just projecting her own desires on them. Having lost her family, she realized she was always looking for a replacement, even if it wasn’t in her best interest.
Prudence gave him a look that was both tentative and sympathetic. “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through.”
Ada felt Max tense—his arm twitched, sliding gently against hers. She wanted to clasp him, to let him know she cared.
Glastonbury cleared his throat. “Thank you for the dowry, Warfield. It is deeply appreciated. I hope this won’t be the last time you and Prudence talk or spend time together.” He slid his arm around Prudence’s waist and drew her close.
“I’m grateful that you appear to care for my sister,” Max said rather flatly, making Ada wonder what was going on in his mind. “Just promise you’ll never be unfaithful.”
Glastonbury’s blue gaze turned to flint. “I wouldnever. Pru has my entire heart.”
A lovely smile lit Prudence’s face, and Ada felt a surge of envy. What she wouldn’t give to share a lasting love like that. Alas, she doubted that would ever happen. Ada certainly didn’t expect it to, nor was she certain she’d have the courage to pursue it. It seemed that fate kept telling her she should be alone.
Ada slid a covert glance at Max. Brow furrowed and jaw tight, he appeared unsettled. She didn’t want to ask and draw attention to any discomfort he might be feeling. Disappointment snagged at her mind—she thought this encounter had gone rather well.
“I should get back inside,” Cassandra said. “No doubt Ruark is wondering where I’ve gone to.”
Max inclined his head toward Prudence and Glastonbury. “I’ll arrange for the dowry payment.”
Prudence looked him solemnly in the eye. “Thank you. Truly.”
Nodding, Max clasped his hands behind his back. Prudence and Glastonbury turned and walked toward the club. Cassandra and Lucien followed.
Ada stayed back, waiting until they were out of earshot before facing Max. The same thrill she’d experienced upon seeing him wound through her again. She was so glad he was here. “I’m so pleased to see you. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“Because I know you, and there’s a telltale set to your jaw.”
He shook his head at her, exhaling. “You are far too clever for your own good. Certainly for mine. I was hoping I might have a few minutes to speak with Prudence alone. I should have realized that was too much to expect.”
