“How strange,” said Tiffany. “Ember is usually so calm.”
Yeah, she usually was. So what had caused her to react that way?
“Mr. DeVille, do set the tea down.”
Mr. DeVille.
As he complied with the command, Max thought back over the last few minutes.Mr. DeVille. It had been his name which had made her shut down like that. But why?
“Tiffany, dearest, do pour tea for our guests. Milord, would you care for a cake?”
As Lysander managed to agree that, aye, perhaps a cake would be enjoyable, Max stood there in the center of the room, feeling like a fool. He needed to set things right with Ember, but how?
He didn’t know, but at least he knew where she’d be.
“Um, if you’ll excuse me…” As he began speaking, all eyes in the room turned to him. The expressions ranged from concerned—Bonnie—to excited—Tiffany, likely at the thought of having Lysander’s undivided attention, even though Lysander just looked irritated. Max sent him an apologetic glance. “I’ve just recalled something I need from my room.”
“Of course,” murmured Baroness Oliphant with a smile.
Max sent a shrug to Lysander, promising himself to make it up to his brother, then hurried out the door.
He needed to get to her father’s workshop.
