His mother turned to glare at Yihui, but her expression slowly eased as Yihui visibly inhaled and exhaled. The duchess did the same. And as the woman continued to ease her breath, Yihui rang a small silver bell that was set near her hand.
To his delight, Olivia stepped forward in her new ducal livery. It looked very good on her, he thought, especially when she smiled which is what she was doing now. Sadly, her curtsy was a tad rough, but he was sure it would get smoother with time.
“Her Grace needs a taste of the new tea. Can you bring it for us please?”
Olivia didn’t speak her answer, but she did curtsy again and disappear.
“I see that the new gowns have arrived,” he commented as he finally remembered the proprieties. He clasped Yihui’s hand and bent over it as he might for the queen. He gave her every respect in word and form, but he reserved a special moment when their eyes connected to tease a finger along the underside of her wrist.
It was scandalous flirtation, but she seemed to delight in it as much as he did. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes took on a dreamy quality he couldn’t resist. She wore a gown of the brightest-yellow silk embroidered with a pair of playful goldfishes dancing along the skirt. It was a whimsical dress and one that surprised him. Of all the qualities he had witnessed in Yihui, whimsy had never appeared.
Until now.
When given the safety to indulge her tastes, Yihui had a playful side that delighted him.
“And have you no greeting for your mother?” the duchess asked tartly. She was right. As the highest-ranking woman in the room, she should have been acknowledged first. But how could he defer any interaction with Yihui? She drew him like the sun. Or more accurately, as a flower just beginning to blossom. She was coming alive despite the hours his mother picked at her and the tedious work of fixing up the apothecary shop.
“Max?” His mother’s tone was exhausted, not irritated.
“Hmm?” Damn it, he’d lost himself in looking at Yihui. “I have waited because I have a surprise for you,” he covered quickly.
“A surprise?” the duchess asked, her tone skeptical as she offered him her hand.
He bowed over her as was appropriate, but when he stood, he pulled out a gilt-edged letter with a royal seal upon it. He handed it to her.
“It is our invitation to the palace, Mother. We have an official date for Yihui’s presentation to the king.”
The lady gasped as she tore open the letter. And then she dropped it into her lap with a horrified cry. “Tuesday next?” she squeaked. “Tuesday next!”
“Yes, it’s an informal gathering, or as informal as these things go. The prince is aware that Yihui cannot dance, but she will be expected to sit with his majesty for a bit, perhaps share some wine. The queen will be there, as well as several dozen courtiers.” He grimaced as he looked back at his fiancée. “I’m afraid we were not officially invited to dine, though that may come if you do well during the first part.” He truly was disappointed with that lack, though he supposed it would come eventually after they married.
Or rather, it wouldn’t come at all because they wouldn’t actually marry.
“What does Christopher think of the situation?” Yihui asked. “Does he have any ideas?”
Max’s jaw tightened as fear burned beneath his skin. “No one has heard or seen Chris since the night…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Yihui was well aware of his worries for his best friend.
“You have not found him?”
He shook his head. “I am at my wit’s end. He has disappeared, and I am alarmed. The Bow Street Runner I hired has learned nothing.”
His mother looked up. “Oh, I hardly think that was necessary. That boy was always wandering off somewhere. He’d turn up a day or a month later with a cheeky grin and a tale of adventure.”
That was true, and certainly Chris was an adult and therefore able to disappear to wherever he wanted. But the last thing he’d done was rush off to confront Noah Pearson, a man Max nowknew led a gang of thugs. According to the runner, Mr. Pearson hired himself out to wealthy people who needed someone to perform unpleasant tasks. That was, after all, exactly what he’d done for the duke. He’d been paid to abduct Yihui and deliver her to the Rose Garden.
So what would the man do if Chris confronted him in a hotheaded rant? Christopher could hold his own in a fight one on one, but one on six? Especially if all six were trained fighters? No man was that skilled.
Naturally, Mr. Pearson claimed he never saw Chris and knew nothing about the man, but Max had the horrible fear that Chris had landed at the bottom of the Thames. And the worst thing was that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He kept the runner searching, Chris’s friends and family were commanded to write the moment they heard word of the man, and he watched for news of bodies.
Yihui caught Max’s eyes, and he knew she shared his worry. She said nothing, and yet he still felt comforted. Waiting without news was horrible.
Meanwhile, a roar and a loud clatter sounded from upstairs. Everyone looked up as if they could see through the ceiling, and maybe they could because his mother brushed the invitation irritably through her fingers.
“I see your father has woken from his afternoon rest,” she drawled. “He will want to speak with you directly.”
Max frowned. “About what?”
“As if I know. His secretary was here this morning to report on political matters which naturally put him in a foul mood. And now…” She shrugged. “I don’t suppose you have happy news for him?”
