Not that she was likely to take a proposal from him any more seriously than she had taken the joking one from his sister.
How could he ask her to submit to a life of not fitting in, when he knew from first-hand experience how much that hurt?
“I like your family,” he murmured to Bryony.
Her eyes twinkled. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?”
Someonewas. He wished he could kiss her.
In one costume or another, she always managed to straddle the line between what was accepted in her society and a secret life filled with what was not. She was a walking contradiction and he loved her for it. Baron’s daughter by day, gaming hell financier by night. He could not help but admire her.
“This is a very unconventional gathering,” he murmured to Bryony.
Her grin was instantaneous. “Have I somehow given you the misconception that I am a conventional lady?”
His breath caught. No, she hadn’t. And he adored her for it.
Two months ago, he would never have believed his future would include long nights in his office managing a gaming hell with an equally managing female. He would never have dreamed of meeting her for ices, paying a social call to a girls’ school, or dancing beneath countless chandeliers at a masquerade.
None of that had taken half as much courage as presenting himself on the doorstep tonight. Those stolen moments had been fantasy. He had longed for the possibility of something more. Had not dared to believe it possible, until now.
This was reality. And it was… Splendid.
He brushed the back of his fingers against Bryony’s hand. She smiled up at him from beneath her lashes. He clenched his jaw in determination.
If he could survive an evening in a neighborhood this lofty, with companions this diverse, then he could survive another. And another. And another.
Perhaps even a lifetime of such evenings. Was it too much to hope? He would prove it to himself tonight, and then he would prove it to Bryony.
Maybe they really could make a future together.
Chapter 20
Bryony couldn’t stop smiling. She was overjoyed Max had chosen to accept her brother’s invitation, despite his obvious initial reservations.
She understood Max’s reticence. In other circumstances, his caution would have been sound. He would soon learn to consider her siblings’ homes a safe place. A chance to pass a quiet evening with loved ones without their parents present to scold or pass judgment.
In fact, this was the perfect opportunity for Max to discover how lovable her siblings were. And for her extended family to see for themselves how wonderful he was.
And,oh, was he wonderful, inside and out. She slid another look his way. Tonight he was positively resplendent.
He wore perfectly polished Hessians, along with black breeches and a tailcoat that perfectly emphasized his powerful frame. His cravat was as white and crisp and effusive as that of any London gentleman. Her pulse quickened.
Jaw, only slightly shadowed. Thick black hair curling to his neck unrepentantly. Bold waistcoat as bright orange as flame, like the gaming hell he presided over, like the demon everyone believed him to be.
His armor didn’t fool her. She knew the truth of the man inside. Yes, he was unquestionably arrogant and ruthless and impossible. Of this, she was in full agreement. But he was also gentle and caring. Behind a dark and guarded exterior, shimmered the soul of a poet.
Was it any wonder she loved him?
“When does supper start?” he growled into her ear.
Bryony grinned. “When we’re called to the table. Soon, I promise.”
She wished she could take his hand and place it to her cheek.
He narrowed his eyes. “Is this the sort of soirée where gentlemen separate from the ladies after dinner in order to consume inadvisable quantities of port without being forced by proximity to share the spoils with women?”
She gave a careless shrug. “You may do so if you choose, but I cannot promise the ladies will leave anything but crumbs once the dessert trays arrive from the kitchen.”
