And so he was smiling as he once again scooped up Miss Wong. She hissed as if in pain, but the sound was quickly silenced as she pressed her face—clacking beads and all—into his shoulder. In return, he settled her more securely against him and found she fit nicely in his arms. Indeed, holding her like this was unexpectedly delightful.
Sadly, there was no time to revel in the feelings as—for the second time that day—he found himself in a strange procession. Chiverton led the way, walking as if he were in Windsor Castle. Max came next, careful not to step on the trailing swaths ofMiss Wong’s dress. His sister was behind him, gesturing to the mandarin that he should follow her. He did with his nose lifted into the air. Then behind them all trailed the captain, with every appearance of wanting to escape before he had to explain about the stable.
The bedroom was freshly cleaned and aired, the fabrics done in soft yellows, and the bed was large enough to please a royal. Max set Yihui down carefully in a chair by the window and heard her sigh as her feet stretched out beneath her gown.
He did a doubletake at the sight.
Her feet were so tiny! They appeared barely the size of his fist, tightened down by silk ribbons that seemed strained to near bursting. The outline was of a strange, blunted shape, and he couldn’t tell if it were the ribbons or something else that created that impression. Had her feet been snapped in half? Horror choked him.
She must have seen him looking as she twitched her skirts down, her eyes canted away in embarrassment. Then before he could say anything, the mandarin bustled in, shouting as he stepped in front of Miss Wong.
Max reared back, if only to give space between him and the man’s tobacco-laden breath. Then the officious man waggled a finger before Max’s eyes.
The captain rushed forward. “Begging your pardon, but he says you cannot see before the wedding. It is improper.”
“To see what? She is fully clothed.”
“Her feet, milord. They do put a great deal of stock in feet.”
Then they shouldn’t have broken them. Max folded his arms to keep himself from strangling the man. He had to get these people out of here so he could order a doctor. But his uncertain diplomatic position kept him silent. As well as the captain’s sword. Though he did glance at Emma.
“I think you and Mother should stay back,” he said in an undertone. Emma nodded her understanding, and she and his mother stepped away. Then he heard Yihui’s breath increase in fear. Odd that he could be so attuned to her.
“I won’t leave you,” he said quietly, and he had the satisfaction of hearing her exhale in relief.
Meanwhile, the mandarin made a show of inspecting every corner of the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and sniffed in disdain at the modest robe and slippers set there for guests. He tested the strength of the window and even looked under the bed as if for rodents. And every moment that he spent there increased Max’s desire to wring the man’s neck.
Eventually the mandarin finished. Speaking through the captain, he declared the room adequate. He agreed to be escorted to his accommodations, and Max was happy to follow. He couldn’t wait to see the man’s reaction when he was escorted to the stable. Even Chiverton displayed an expectant smile.
He waited to leave, though, making sure everyone departed. Then he turned to her. “Shall I carry you to the bed?” he asked. “Should I call for a doctor?”
She looked up and he thought her lips curved in a smile. Maybe. He really wished she’d take off those damn beads.
“No. Thank you.” Then she glanced at the door. “No one will come? I will be alone?”
“No one.” He smiled reassuringly, inordinately pleased that they could communicate. “I will return soon so we may speak.” And with that, he bowed deeply and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Now on to dealing with the mandarin.
He rushed down the hallway, picking up the tail end of the procession that was now descending the stairs. He got halfway before he pulled up short.
There, framed in the doorway, stood a very statuesque, very tight-lipped Lady Kimberly. His other fiancée.
Damnation. He should have taken the time to shave.
Chapter Five
Max felt hisentire body tighten with guilt. In one flash, he saw the ridiculous display that surrounded him and knew that he had done the one thing that he’d sworn to never do again. He’d dragged Lady Kimberly into a scandal.
He watched her green eyes widen as she took in her surroundings, then saw her skin pale to a grim shade of gray. She was a private, quiet woman, and whatever gossip she’d heard that brought her to his door was now confirmed by the parade of people coming down the stairs straight at her.
And then, true to her aristocratic bearing, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and arched a single brow in his direction. It both demanded an audience and threw the coming debacle at his feet.
Hell.
“Good afternoon, Max,” she said in cool tones as he made the main floor. “I apologize for not sending word earlier. I wondered if I could have a moment of your time.”
He nodded, his gaze going to the mandarin who appeared confused. The man was clearly torn between giving her a respectful bow and demanding she curtsy to him. Worse, the foyer was choked with servants standing around gaping. Chiverton was clearly not in control of the staff.
