“Oh. Yes. Eloisa, my maid, mixes this amazing paint to cover blemishes—” She caught herself, moved her hands to her waist, and tilted her head in the other direction. “But I’m sure that’s not why you wanted me in your office,” she reminded him. “Is something wrong?”
He never should have kissed her. Because the words “wanting her in his office” suddenly took on an all-too-inappropriate meaning.
He removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d had a good reason. Hadn’t he? “Nothing’s wrong,” he said.
“So, what is it?”
“You don’t have to help Wallace, you know.” Max sat behind his desk, making it easier to keep his hands to himself. “Or bring food.” Only Caroline would take it upon herself to feed an office full of unrefined newspapermen.
“I know. But by helping him, I’m helping you.”
And by helping Max, he presumed, she hoped to help her brother.
His gaze dropped to her hands, her fingertips ink-stained… Ah yes. “Speaking of, I need your help proofing tonight—but on one condition.”
“That’s why I’m here. What’s the condition?”
“You aren’t to leave the building without me.” He couldn’t put it past her to hail a hackney to take her back to her mother’s house alone. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll escort you. Yes?”
“I’m perfectly capable—”
“This is non-negotiable.”
For a moment, he thought she might argue. But she nodded. And then, she closed the door and claimed the seat across from him. “Did you have a plan? For catching him?”
She was more single-minded than even he was.
“We’ll run two galleys. One before corrections and one after. I don’t usually take the time, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”
“We’ll do two proofs, then.” She sat up straight, serious as an apoplexy. “It’ll take longer, but I haven’t come up with anything else either.” And then she tore open one of the packages and bit into an aromatic pigeon pie.
Not like a dainty little debutante, but with the same relish as his other employees.
Max rubbed a hand across his mouth to keep from laughing.
Because although Caroline Rutherford might initially appear sweet and easygoing, that simply was not the case. True, she had some very sweet moments, but he was coming to realize the lady was, in fact, a force of nature.
“I’ll just have a few bites. If we’re going to read through the galleys twice, there’s no time to waste…”
But Max sat back. “No. Finish your meal.” There would always be work to do. “And thank you.” He waved around his own pie. “For this.”
“You’re quite welcome.” She exhaled, and some of her boundless energy subsided. “Mother knows it’s my favorite.”
“She knew you would be here late?” Max was rather startled any mother would allow her daughter so much freedom, but the Rutherfords weren’t the average Mayfair family.
For the next twenty minutes, he sat listening to Caroline talk about her parents, her sisters and brothers, and the home she preferred in Willowbrook Springs. Her eyes dimmed when she spoke of her father and the other men who’d perished in that fire.
Despite her substantial losses last year, she had not lost hope. In fact, all the surviving Rutherfords had left a strong impression on him, especially with their bold presence in Mayfair.
When she’d finished, she brushed her hands and gathered up the napkins. Before rising to leave, however, she asked, “Was there anything else you wanted?”
You.
Her gaze locked with his, and it seemed they said more to one another in those two seconds than they had all evening. Max licked his lips. “I’ll keep you appraised if anything comes up.”
Wrong choice of words. He could only be thankful he was sitting behind his desk.
Caroline licked her lips. Max swallowed hard.
