For all his other wicked sins, he wasn’t in the habit of ruining innocent young ladies.
But even so, he couldn’t quite make himself promise he wouldn’t do it again, if given the chance. So, he’d simply have to make sure he didn’teverget the chance.
He’d stay away from her, that was all. He simply hadn’t been himself last night. No, he’d been mesmerized by a pair of green eyes, and seduced by the scent of ginger, the flavor of dark sugar on his tongue. Of course! He’d only kissed her last night because he’d been . . . confused.
As soon as he saw her this morning, he’d find she was just an ordinary young lady, much like every other, and not the green-eyed goddess he’d dreamed about last night. Whatever madness had him in its grip would dissolve then, and he might get back to the business at hand.
Revenge. Revenge against herfather, no less.
He tossed his pen aside and snatched his pocket watch up from the corner of his desk. It was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning, and she had yet to make her appearance downstairs.
Where the devil was she?
He rose, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary, and marched to the doorway, ignoring Townsend’s startled look. He wandered into the corridor, peering into the entryway beyond.
Hewasn’twaiting for her. It was important he keep reminding himself of that, particularly given the curious glances Monk kept casting him every time he poked his head out of his study.
Yes, he’d risen earlier than usual, and it was true that once he entered his study of a morning, he rarely emerged for the rest of the day. Nor did he have a habit of pacing about up and down the corridor like a caged animal, but none of that had anything to do with the fact that the entryway had the best vantage point from which to monitor the staircase.
And yes, while it was also the case that Miss St. Claire couldn’t reach the ground floor without descending that particular staircase, that didn’t mean he waswaitingfor her. He was just a touch restless this morning, for no particular reason.
“Is there anything I may assist you with, Your Grace?” Monk edged closer, his gray brows drawn together. Monk had been observing him with increasing puzzlement as the morning waned.
Really, couldn’t a man linger in his own entryway without every servant in the house looking askance at him? It was his house, for God’s sake. “No, Monk. I’m merely, er . . . looking for Mrs. Watson.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I believe she’s in the linen closet with several of the downstairs maids. Shall I fetch her for you?”
“No, I—no, thank you, Monk.” Max sidled back down the corridor to escape Monk’s curious gaze, but not before he saw the man’s lips twitch.
Impertinent scoundrel.
Townsend looked up when he came back into the study, his forehead puckered with a frown. “All right, Your Grace?”
“Of course, I’m all right. Why do you ask, Townsend? Don’t Ilookall right?” Good Lord, was his idiocy visible on his face?
“Oh, yes, Your Grace. Very well, indeed. It’s just that you’re rather restless this morning.”
Max threw himself into his chair with a sigh. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about, Townsend. I’m notrestless. I’m just a trifle agitated.”
Townsend bit back a grin. “Yes, Your Grace.” “What the devil are you grinning at, Townsend?” First Monk, and now Townsend. He was surrounded by impertinent scoundrels. Couldn’t a man get any peace?
“Nothing at all, Your Grace. Is there anything I can do to assist you?”
“No.” Nothing short of rousting Miss St. Claire from her bed and dragging her downstairs so he could be done mooning over her, that is.
“Very well, Your Grace, if you’re quite sure.”
He wasn’t sure of a single, bloody thing anymore. “Actually, Townsend, now I think of it, there is one thing.”
“Of course, Your Grace. How can I help?”
“Miss St. Claire’s bedchamber ceiling. Hire some villagers from Fairford to go to Hammond Court and repair it, will you?” Good Lord, what was he doing? He’d well and truly lost his wits.
Townsend blinked. “Repairit, Your Grace?”
Max huffed. “Are you going deaf, Townsend?”
“Not that I’m aware of, Your Grace, but just to make certain, you want me to see to it the damage to Miss St. Claire’s ceiling is repaired?”
