Max had come that day, in his glossy black carriage with the gold, spoked wheels, with his orderly boot tassels, and his handsome beaver hat set rakishly atop his dark waves.
And she’d nearly shot him in the foot.
Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips. What had he been thinking, trying to wrest that pistol from her? Foolish, arrogant, stubborn man! It was a wonder he wasn’t missing a toe now.
But her smile faded again soon enough, replaced by a weight so heavy she thought it might crush her. How could her life have changed so drastically, in so short a time?
How had it come to this?
She stood at the window for a long time, staring into the night, her bare toes numb with cold, and watched the pretty snowflakes whirling through the darkness.
But her answer never came.
CHAPTER26
After weeks of heavy snow and howling winds, the sun chose to shine with renewed brilliance on Christmas morning, illuminating an endless sky the color of a blue jay’s wing. It was the sort of day Christmasshouldbe—a day of beauty, hope, and promise.
But it was utterly wasted on Max.
It was as if the glorious weather were mocking him with its brightness. Inside his chest, in the space where his heart was meant to be beating, there was nothing but a dark, silent cavern of misery.
It was midmorning when Bryce brought the carriage to a stop in front of the entrance to Hammond Court. It would have been much earlier, if Basingstoke and Montford hadn’t caught him rushing out the door just after sunrise and persuaded him to bathe and change before appearing on Rose’s doorstep.
Was she looking down on him from her bedchamber window, even now? Or had she already run for her pistol? He blinked up at the façade, shading his eyes from the sun glittering off the new glass windows, but the house looked as deserted as it had the first day he’d arrived in Fairford.
At least the windows were now intact, and the doorknob and plate properly attached to the door again. There was still a great deal left to do to make the house truly habitable, but there was some comfort in knowing the roof wasn’t about to collapse on top of Rose, and neither was she any longer at risk of freezing in her bed or midnight attacks by a roving band of scoundrels.
It was something, but not enough. Nothing he could do for her would ever be enough. If she’d let him, he’d give her everything.
He’d give her himself. All he was now, and all he hoped to become.
Whether she’d have him or not, well . . . she’d made herself painfully clear last night.
I don’t want anything from you anymore.
He paused on his way to the door, a wave of dark despair crashing over him. Was there any chance at all she’d change her mind? Would she even open the door to him?
He wouldn’t find out by lingering in the drive like some tragic hero. He tried to shake off his doubts, but as he strode to the door the sun ducked behind a cloud, as if to warn him he was marching toward his doom.
But before he could raise his hand to knock, the door flew open.
He caught his breath, but it wasn’t Rose waiting on the other side. It was Abby, her lips tight, her eyes narrowed, her fisted hands planted on her hips. “I expectedyou’dturn up, sooner or later. What do you wantnow, Your Grace?”
“Rose.” It wasn’t a gentlemanly reply, particularly given the low rasp in his voice when he said her name, but the time for subtlety had passed. “I want Rose.”
Abby sniffed. “You should have thought of that before you tried to snatch her home out from under her, shouldn’t you, Your Grace?”
Of course, he should have. That was obvious, wasn’t it? But he smothered the retort on his lips. Abby was standing between him and the inside of the house, so aggravating her didn’t seem wise. She could slam the door in his face at any moment, and it would hardly endear him to Rose if he attacked her door again.
“I’ve come to tell Rose that Hammond Court belongs to her now.” It wasn’t the only reason he’d come, but it was the truth, all the same. “I’ll see to it all the necessary repairs are carried out, and the house is maintained to a decent standard of safety and comfort.”
“Is that so?” Abby swept a suspicious gaze over him. “Just why would you want to do that, Your Grace?”
Why?“Because I . . . because she . . .” For God’s sake, couldn’t the woman see that he was expiring for love for Rose, right in front of her eyes? Even if Rose didn’t want him, he still wished for her happiness.
One glance at him, and it was all painfully obvious, as his reflection in his looking glass had plainly told him this morning. But he’d be damned if he’d confess to Abby that he was in love with Rose before he toldRose, so he said only, “Because Hammond Court is more hers than it ever could be mine.”
Abby’s eyebrows shot up. “That matters to you, does it?”
