This time, when she glanced at him, her eyes danced with laughter.
The sight made him feel simultaneously as though he would like to kiss herandshake some sense into her. He wasn’t sure which urge would win, given the chance.
“We did,” he said stiffly.
Lydia glanced between them, laughing slightly. “A shame you didn’t marry. You seem to almost finish each other’s sentences.”
Lady Thalia laughed politely, but Maxwell fixed Lydia with another glare; the girl closed her mouth.
She didn’t know—no one did—the circumstances around the ending of the engagement. It wasn’t precisely a sore point, but he would rather it was not commonly known that Lady Thalia had been forced into an engagement with him and had begged him to end things as she could not.
That had been before the age of her majority; now she was, presumably, at liberty to refuse all gentlemen who approached her, which had to be why she remained unmarried. Maxwell could hardly imagine it was due to a lack of personal charm, much as it irritated him to note.
“Now, I really must speak of Alessandro Rossi,” Simon said, no doubt to cover for the awkward lull in conversation. “I have heard he is everything that is fashionable!”
Anna coughed, and Lydia’s eyes lit up.
“I have heard of nothing else ever since I arrived in London,” Lydia said eagerly. “The mystery surrounding him is fascinating, do you not think?”
“No,” Maxwell said shortly. “I think a man who cannot step forward to claim his artistry is no artist at all.”
Lady Thalia jerked as though he had struck her. “How can you say such a thing?” she demanded, turning to face him. It was as though she existed to oppose and try him. “Surely the true mark of artistry is that one can remain anonymous and still be praised.”
“Do you own one of his pieces?” Maxwell demanded.
She blinked, as though surprised. “No.”
“Then what do you know of his skill?”
Anna coughed again, although it appeared to be because she was hiding a laugh. Maxwell knew he was making a fool of himself, engaging in such a heated debate with his former betrothed, but the way she had leapt to the defense of that nobody made something irrational boil inside him.
“I know enough,” Lady Thalia countered. “And is not the opinion of everyone else worth taking into account?”
“So, I am to capitulate on my standards merely because everyone else possesses different ones?” He raised a brow at her, which usually compelled whoever he was arguing with to choose a different argument, or perhaps even to conclude he was the victor.
Not Lady Thalia.
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes seemed to grow even brighter. He could imagine her as a great warrior of old—perhaps Freya, the Norse goddess. A bold, defiant creature.
Now he was getting fanciful. What the devil was she doing to him?
“Perhaps if your opinion differs so drastically from that of others, you are the problem and not them?” she suggested archly.
He stepped closer. “Are you suggesting my tastes are in question?”
“Doyouown any of Rossi’s pieces?”
“I do not, and I have no intention of purchasing any.”
“Then what do you know of quality? You have been out of London for the past two years, and to my knowledge, Rossi is a newcomer on the scene. His sculptures have not been available for purchase for long. So, Your Grace, if you have not seen hissculptures, and do not know the man personally, what right have you to an opinion?”
Joyce gaped at this audacity. Lydia choked back something that might have been a protest, although it was far too high-pitched for him to make out any words. Even Simon, ordinarily game for a debate, looked a trifle shocked.
And Maxwell, damn him, felt heat slide through him at her open defiance.
There were many things he wanted. Primarily among them, never to speak to this harridan again. But second among them was a desire—a rather forcible desire—to learn what else that devious mouth of hers could do.
The challenge was alive in his bones, and when he stepped closer, and she didn’t move away again, a thrill ran through him. “You state your opinions very decidedly for one who has also not purchased one of Rossi’s artworks.”
