And trust was the vital foundation of any good marriage, was it not?
He glanced down the table and discretely studied the other six hopefuls. They were all beautiful and should have appealed to him. For some reason, he could not muster any enthusiasm for them.
Their smiles were false.
Every last one had a mask in place.
Well, perhaps he was judging them too harshly. Was he not putting on a false face, too? But it irked him that they did not have sincerely heartwarming smiles.
After supper, the men remained around the table having their smokes and port while the ladies retired to the drawing room. Not long afterward, the men joined them. Since this was the first night of the house party and many guests had arrived late in the day, the entertainments were light and several of the elders retired early.
Card tables were set up in one of the sitting rooms off the formal drawing room, and a harpist played in a corner of the drawing room to provide music but not overwhelm those guests who wished to converse while strolling along the terrace or in the formal gardens.
Some of the gentlemen retired to the billiards room.
Others liberally refilled their glasses with brandy since Max did not stint on the libations available for the asking.
It was almost dawn by the time the last of the guests retired to their quarters. Since Max had stayed up with these stragglers and then made a round of the house to make certain all was securely locked up, he was the last one to head to bed.
He usually kept earlier hours when at Pendrake Hall, retiring around midnight and waking at cock’s crow to take an early morning ride along the familiar trails that were sometimes shrouded in mist at the start of his ride. He would skip that routine this morning and grab an extra few hours of sleep.
Most guests would not wake until much later.
He would alter his riding schedule and invite those who wished to ride on a shortened excursion around the neighboring countryside in the afternoon instead.
But he gave no more thought to those plans as he stripped off his clothes and fell wearily onto the soft mattress.
“Harry,” he murmured, not certain why this girl with big eyes and a beautiful smile came to mind as he fell asleep.
Indeed, fell into a deep and exhausted sleep.
Max felt as though he had just closed his eyes when his valet came in and drew aside the drapes to reveal a sunny day. “Ah, you are awake, Your Grace.”
“No, Holt. I am fast asleep,” he muttered, sticking a pillow over his head as sunshine streamed into his bedchamber. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine o’clock, Your Grace.”
Max set aside his pillow and sat up, for it was three hours beyond his usual time to rise. “Blasted schedule is completely thrown off,” he muttered.
Holt nodded as he burrowed through Max’s armoire to retrieve clothes suitable for morning wear. “None of your guests are up yet, other than Miss Comeford. I saw no harm in allowing you to sleep in a while longer. I doubt any of them will stir much before noon.”
“I suppose you are right.” He paused a moment, debating whether to ask about Harry’s whereabouts. Well, he was master here. Why should he not be kept apprised of the comings and goings of his guests? “Where is Miss Comeford?”
Holt arched an eyebrow. “You’ll find her strolling in the garden.”
Max hastily washed and dressed, and then hurried down to join her. He felt a jolt of disappointment when he did not immediately spot her. Then he remembered the abandoned structure that had once been the family’s private place of worship several centuries ago, a small chapel in the woodlands on his property.
Did it not make sense that Harriet, who had worked in a convent school, would be curious about it?
He strode past the formal flower beds and into the wilder portion of the garden that had been left overgrown and now partially hid the ancient stone chapel. Sure enough, the old door to the entrance was thrown open.
Light filtered in through the archway and also streamed in through several stained glass windows that were small and dusty.
Max quietly stepped inside and saw her kneeling beside an equally dusty altar.
His heartbeat quickened.
Botheration.
