Page 107 of How to Ruin a Rake

Allegra left the breakfast table in some haste, retreated to her bedroom, and yet again fought the desire to cry. In her heart, she knew she was doing the right thing by letting Max return to London, but she didn’t really want him to go. She wanted to tell him she was with child and that she never wanted him to leave her ever again.

Her stubbornness, as her mother would no doubt tell her, had got her into a bit of a pickle. If she accompanied Max to London, he wouldn’t be able to behave as he probably wished. He’d have to squire her about town, and everyone who saw them would believe Landon’s insinuations that he was under her thumb.

Except she didn’t want him to be free, and if he came back to her after a night of debauchery, she might just brain him with the poker. She’d never considered herself a violent person, but Max seemed to bring out the best and the worst in her. She also wasn’t sure if her delicate stomach would survive the long carriage journey. If she constantly had to stop, Max would become suspicious.

But what if he left and something happened to her while he was away? What if she died? Allegra immediately pictured her deathbed with only Mrs. Smith and Anne in attendance while she fought to tell them to let Max know that she loved him. …

The door opened, and Max came in. He stopped to look at her.

“Why the tragic face? We will argue occasionally; it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t thinking about you at all.” Allegra rose to her feet. “There are other things that upset me, you know.”

“Like what?” Max walked through into the dressing room as he took off his coat and Allegra followed him.

“The current state of the world.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“You don’t consume my every thought, Max Devereux.”

“I am well aware of that.” Max flung open one of the doors and took out a warmer coat. “In truth, you can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“I am trying to ensure that you continue to have all the opportunities your marriage to me might have curtailed.”

“Such as?” Max buttoned his coat.

“The ability to act as a free man.”

“But I’m not free, am I? I’m married to you.”

“And I promised you I’d not interfere when you … ​resumed that single life.”

He went still. “Do you realize how damned insulting that is?”

“It’s the truth.”

“You want me to go to London and pretend you don’t exist?” He strode toward the door. “Fine, that’s exactly what I’ll do, and I’ll make sure to write so that you can live vicariously through my no-doubt extensive and sordid experiences. Will you excuse me? I’m going out with Mr. Lake.”

Max left the next day after an almost silent dinner and a night spent in his own bed. Allegra only knew he’d gone when Anne came to wake her. A sense of awfulness engulfed her. She’d done what she’d promised, but Max seemed to hate her for it, so what had she actually proved? That she was stubborn to a fault and too afraid to question whether her pledge not to interfere with his life made sense anymore?

By the end of that first, lonely day, Allegra was convinced she’d made a terrible mistake. Max did deserve better. She’d never been a coward, and it was imperative that she tell him the truth, both about her feelings for him and the baby. Then, if he chose to repudiate her, at least she’d know where she stood.

“Mrs. Smith?” Allegra went into the kitchen. “I’ve decided to join my husband in London, after all. Will you ask Brice to organize the carriage for me? Anne and I will leave tomorrow at first light.”

After an exhausting day dealing with his father, who had decided to give Max more funding and responsibilities throughout the various entities the dukedom held, Max simply wanted his bed. His brother George, who was in a very affable mood, accompanied him up the stairs.

“Do you fancy coming out, Max? Some of us are trying out a new gaming hell in Jermyn Street.”

“No thank you,” Max said. “I’m rather tired.”

George laughed uproariously. “That’s a good one. The great Max Devereux turning down an opportunity to gamble after being stuck in the countryside for months. Or has your mind turned to whoring? I can’t imagine you being stuck with only one woman in your bed for the rest of your life. I hear your last mistress would be more than willing to resume her duties, as would half the ladies of the ton.”

Max turned to his brother. “I’m married. I wouldn’t disrespect my wife by indulging in such nonsense.”

“Devil take it!” George stared at him. “What’s happened to you?”

Max smiled. “Perhaps I’ve finally reached adulthood?” He patted his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t despair, one day, you’ll get there, too.”