Page 82 of Impossible
Max took it, and the other viscount pulled him up. Shame and revulsion swept through Max. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ada. Or anyone, really.
“I’ll get a hack,” he muttered before taking off toward the entrance. His shoulder screamed with pain. He’d forgotten he’d been stabbed.
Ada caught up to him. “We came in your coach. I’ll go with you. Prudence and Glastonbury will take Evie and…Lucien.” She’d hesitated to even say his name.
“Are you all right?” Max was torn between wanting to check every inch of her to ensure she was safe and not wanting to see the fear in her eyes. So he stared straight ahead.
“I’m fine.”
“How can you be fine?”
“I’m better than you,” she said wryly. She gripped his elbow, and he started. Glancing at her, he saw the color had returned to her cheeks. Good.
He bent his arm and held it for her to clasp. He could at least pretend to be a gentleman.
When they arrived at Max’s coach, Og gaped at him. “What the hell happened?”
“A drunken ruffian got a little too close,” Ada explained.
“You’re all right?” Og apparently wasn’t satisfied with Ada’s answer.
“I’m fine.”
Og’s deep frown remained. Max reassured him that he was all right before helping Ada into the coach.
As they moved away from Vauxhall, seated together on the forward-facing seat, she turned toward him. “That was not at all what I envisioned for tonight.”
He couldn’t imagine it was. He’d been a fool to think he could enjoy normal activities, that he could mingle amongst regular people. He was scarcely better than the animals who had attacked her.
She twisted her lips, her gaze settling on his right shoulder. “We need to get your coat off so I can look at your injury.”
He pulled the garment back, wincing as it cut into his shoulder.
“Careful,” she said, helping him ease the coat down his arm.
Tugging it down his other arm, Max tossed the garment onto the floor of the coach. Then he removed his hat and sailed it to the opposite seat.
Ada frowned at the wound. “Waistcoat too.”
Together, they worked that garment free, and it joined the coat.
“I suppose that’s one way to justify new clothing,” she quipped softly. “Not that you needed justification.” Bringing her knee up, she half knelt on the seat, pushing herself against the cushion to allow light from the lantern so she could better investigate the wound.
“How bad is it?”
“A nasty scratch, really, thanks to your clothing. The bleeding has stopped, so I don’t think you’ll need stitching. I’ll bandage it up when we get to the club. I should see if the cook has any poultice or herbs to help it heal.”
He watched as she studied him intently, her face full of concern and gentle, but firm, capability. He thought in that moment that he might love her. That if he could ever love anyone again, it would be her.
Emotion welled in his throat. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Ada.” His voice croaked.
She straightened her leg and sat back down beside him. “I’m all right. Truly. I’ve fought off randy ruffians before. After I left my family, I had to fend for myself for several years.”
He stared at her, uncertain if she was trying to make light of the situation or if she actually thought she could have defended herself alone. “There were three of them. And one had a knife.”
“In any case, this is a moot conversation since I didn’t have to fend for myself. I had you.” She stared at him, and he nearly flinched at the depth of caring in her eyes. “Were you still in the war? From the fireworks, I mean.”
“Not exactly. I just saw that you were threatened, and I moved without thinking. I did everything without thinking.” Just as he’d done that summer night three years earlier.
