“I know.” He kissed the top of her head.
“When did you start playing with fire? It’s such an unusual predilection.” Bringing something so dangerous to her bed never would have occurred to her.
His hands stilled on her back. “I’ve always been interested in fire. It seemed natural to incorporate it in all aspects of my life.”
“But there must have been something that sparked your interest?” She smiled. “So to speak.”
He was quiet, rubbing his hands in circles on her back. She didn’t think he would answer. Finally, he said, “Fire has always been beautiful to me.” Sighing, he released her and sat on the edge of the bed. He tugged on her hand, drawing her down beside him.
“There’s much I don’t remember about my early years, but I do remember the poverty,” he said.
“But, you’re a—”
“Baron, I know.” He pulled out the few pins left in her hair and combed the thick mass down her back. “My father was a second son and a bit of a scoundrel. He was supposed to go into the church, but he wasn’t very good at it. It was hard for him to wake up in time for the service, let alone write a sermon. After repeated complaints from parishioners of his drunkenness and licentiousness, my grandfather, the third baron of Sutton, cut him off. After that, let’s just say my father, my mother, and I didn’t live well.”
“I can imagine,” Colleen said faintly. She knew the type of man his father was. She’d seen many in her old neighborhood. Too drunk to put in a day’s labor, relying on the meagre wages of their women to keep them in their cups. “And your mother? What did she do to provide for you?”
“She wanted to help.” Max’s shoulder tensed against hers. “She would have become a charwoman to help put food in our bellies, but father wouldn’t hear of it. The wife of the son of a baron, even a second son, didn’t find employment.”
Colleen took his hand, threading her fingers with his. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “My uncle died. He was returning from the Continent, and the ship he was on sank in a storm. Grandfather wrote for us to join him at Meadowlark, the seat of the baronetcy, since my father was then in line for succession.”
“And the fire?” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. There was so much more to the story than he revealed. The fear of a boy going to bed with his belly aching for food. The uncertainty of not having a parent he could trust to see them through. It was a story all too common in London, but one she didn’t expect from the Baron of Sutton.
“The day my grandfather’s carriage came to collect us, my mother gathered all our clothes, everything except for what was on our backs. She piled them in the yard.” Max stared at the wall, as if seeing that long-ago scene. “She set everything on fire and she held my hand as we stood there and watched it all burn. There was a lot I didn’t understand, but I knew the fire represented a new beginning. A clean start. My mother was crying she was so happy. That fire was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
They sat in silence, holding hands. Colleen rested her head against his shoulder. Her throat was thick, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing she needed to say. She was content to merely sit next to this man. Her future was uncertain. Her plans in a disarray. But she wouldn’t regret a minute of her time with the baron. He truly was the finest man she knew. And she would treasure every moment they had together.
He cleared his throat. “Regardless, that feeling never left me. Growing up, whenever something bad happened, I would start a small fire, usually on the manor grounds, and the flames would settle me.” He turned and looked down at her, his mouth twisting. “My grandfather and parents were not amused, as you can imagine. But they couldn’t stop my fascination.”
“Thank you for telling me.” There wouldn’t have been many people he’d told. Colleen sat up tall. “I’m honored.”
Max opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say more, then snapped it shut. He scratched his cheek. “Damn, it feels strange without my beard. It will take me a while to become accustomed to.”
Scooting off the bed, Colleen gathered her clothes and began to don them. “You don’t have to get used to it. You could always let it grow back.” She missed his bushy, bear-like appearance. Though she must admit, the face under all that hair was startlingly attractive. The beard had hit chiseled cheekbones and a tiny dent in the center of his chin.
“Summerset would never forgive me if I did that.” Max grimaced. “He almost wept in joy when the hair came off.”
“Interesting friends you have.” She pulled her shirt over her head and turned for the waistcoat. She plucked it off the bureau, and something thudded to the floor.
“You lost something,” Max said, tugging up his trousers.
Colleen clutched the garment to her stomach, staring at the gold watch nestled in the green carpet. Half of a chain swung loose from the buttonhole of the waistcoat.
“Colleen?” Max moved towards her.
“It’s nothing.” She cleared her throat. “The chain to my watch broke.”
“I’m sorry.” He shifted behind her then stepped around and picked up the watch. “It was important to you. I’ll get you a new chain.”
A new chain to her past. She shrugged into the waistcoat, took the watch, and slipped it into her pocket. “No, thank you.” No more chains. “It isn’t worth replacing.” Smoothing down her skirts, she smiled up at Max. “Now, tell me how large an apology I owe Lord Halliwell. Was he merely annoyed at being displaced or was he harmed in the process, as well?”
The tips of Max’s ears flushed red. “He received no less treatment than he had coming to him.”
“Ah. So free membership for half a year, along with prostrating myself with contrition.”
She stepped past Max, and he grabbed her elbow. “No prostrating yourself with him in any form.”
