Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

" A pologies for the intrusion," Max said, standing from the drawing room settee as Daniel entered with a puzzled look on his face. Dickie, meanwhile, remained seated, his gaze cast down as if he had just been summoned to the headmaster's study at Eton.

Daniel smiled hesitantly. "Not that this is not a rare pleasure, but may I ask what brings you here at such an hour? Did I leave something at Greenfield House?"

Behind him, a feminine gasp cut through the air. Caroline darted forward, halting in front of her brother as if she could prevent what was about to happen with her body alone. Guarding her brother against the truth and the scandal that was about to break.

"I can explain," Caroline pleaded, clasping her hands together. "It was not a headache that led me to leave early last night, it was?—"

"Dickie and Lady Caroline are to be married," Max interrupted, swiftly detailing the events of the ball that Daniel had clearly been unaware of.

As Max spoke, Daniel's face clouded over, his gaze hardening as he met his sister's wide eyes. Unlike Dickie, Daniel obviously knew what such a scandal would do, and would not take much convincing. It was something of a relief to Max as he concluded, "So, as I am sure you understand, we must remedy this without delay. Dickie, is there something you would like to say to Lady Caroline?"

Smoothing down the lapels of his dark green tailcoat, drawing in a shaky breath that could be heard by all, Dickie got to his feet. Schooling his face into an expression resembling sincerity, he bowed his head to Caroline, then slowly sank down to one knee on the Persian rug.

"Caro, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?" he asked tightly, keeping his head bowed.

Nervous laughter bubbled up from Caroline's side of the room, drawing a cold stare from Max. What sort of fool would dare to laugh at such a serious situation? What sort of oblivious creature would mock the one chance she had to save herself? Max had known her to be reckless and rash, but he had never, until that moment, thought her to actually be stupid.

"Get up, Dickie," Caroline urged. "This is absurd."

" My Lord ," Max corrected tersely, indescribably bothered by the informality.

Dickie raised his head. "I am sorry, Caro, but I must fix this. I know it is not what you desire—I know it is not what either of us desires—but it is the only way."

"But I do not love you," Caroline said quietly, her face ashen.

She glanced at her brother in desperation, her thin frame beginning to tremble as she no doubt realized that there would be no escaping this. Then, she looked back at Dickie, as if willing him to stand up and retract the proposal, as if willing him to burst into laughter so she would know it was all a silly joke.

Max watched the carousel of emotions turn across her undeniably beautiful face, her plump, full lips thinning as she clamped them together, the rosy apples of her cheeks turning a shade redder, a muscle twitching in her slim jaw, her fingers agitatedly sweeping back stray locks of her raven black hair. She turned her eyes, the color of fresh honey, on Max and a glint akin to hatred flashed for a second, as though she blamed him and not herself or Dickie for what was happening.

Daniel put his arm around Caroline's narrow shoulders, hugging her to him. "Love is not everything, dear heart."

"That is easy for you to say when you have found your true love," Caroline rasped in reply, tears suddenly shining in those warm eyes of hers, turning them cold. "Should I not be granted the same courtesy? You have always said that I could wait until I found someone that I loved the way Mama and Papa loved each other! You promised me!"

Daniel held her tighter. "That was before, dearest Caro. This scandal will see the light of day, and when it does, any hope you might have had of finding a love like that will vanish in the glare." He expelled a weary breath and pressed a kiss to his sister's hair. "I am so very sorry, Caro, but Dickie is right—this is the only way to prevent your ruination. It is a very honorable thing that he is doing, and you must meet it with the same sense of duty."

Caroline looked up at him, imploring him. "Do not command me to do this. I beg of you. I will be… trapped. I will be miserable. Dickie and I have often jested about how unhappy we would be together."

"The ton can be cruel, Lady Caroline," Max interjected, as Dickie rose to standing once more. "And as my brother seems to be a dear friend of yours—someone you do not mind spending time alone with—I suspect that something like love will have room to grow between you."

Caroline gaped at him as if he had just struck her across the face with a glove, that glint of hatred transforming into a brighter burn of blame and anger. Why it was suddenly Max's fault was a mystery to him, but if he had to bear the brunt of it to ensure that Dickie and Caroline were both protected from scorn, then so be it. He would be the villain if that was what it took.

"Please, Caro," Daniel murmured, tears gleaming in his own eyes as he peered down at his sister. "I could not stomach seeing you cast out of society. Nor could our mother; it would shatter her."

Caroline's expression softened, the fury leaving her pretty eyes as she turned her full attention back to her brother. In that look, Max could see her resolve crumbling, and though he could take no pleasure in it, he knew it would be for the best, for everyone involved.

"Very well," she whispered, dipping her chin to her chest. "I will do as you ask. I will do my duty but, if I may, I would like a few moments alone to speak with my future husband."

Max raised a concerned eyebrow. "I do not think that would be wise."

She glared at him. "What harm could it possibly cause now?"

"Leave us, brother," Dickie urged. "She is right—a few minutes of privacy will not do any damage now."

Daniel gave a subtle nod to Max, and as they would soon be family, Max did not feel inclined to refuse. So, with a warning look at his brother and an apologetic glance at Caroline—for he truly did feel sorry about the situation—he allowed them their moment alone, stepping out into the hallway with Daniel.

The door closed behind Max, and he prayed that Dickie was right, that no harm could come from giving them a few minutes alone.

Gray light streamed in through the stained-glass windows of the church, casting muted colors onto the unforgiving flagstones underfoot. A small congregation sat restlessly in the pews, their whispers growing louder with every passing minute, gazes flitting back toward the ancient wooden doors, ears pricked for the sound of a carriage approaching or the old hinges squealing.

It was hard to believe that a fortnight ago, Caroline had only daydreams of what her wedding would look like. She had imagined a church crammed to the rafters with guests, and fragrant flowers in every corner, while she wore a beautiful gown of cream silk and a smile so wide that her cheeks ached.

The reality was a sad echo, for the wedding had been rushed through with a special license, the invitations limited to family only. Even the Spinsters' Club were prohibited, aside from Phoebe and Olivia, who were family to her now.

"Daniel, this is ridiculous," Phoebe said, coming to join her husband, who stood impatiently at Caroline's side. "She should not be at the altar if the groom is not here. Let me take her back to the carriage. When Dickie arrives, I will inform you, but we cannot leave her waiting here like this."

Daniel pursed his lips. "It is raining, darling. Better that she waits here than have to run from the carriage back to the church."

"He is late , Daniel," Phoebe urged. "Very late."

"Do you think I am not aware of that?" Daniel muttered back.

There was no clock in the church, but Caroline could feel every precious minute clanging by, ticking the time closer to the hour after she was supposed to be married. She was not certain how long a wedding could be delayed before the vicar could declare that it was not going to happen, but she doubted her nerves could hold out much longer. It had been hard enough to come to the church in the first place.

Olivia appeared, bringing her husband, Evan, with her. The latter had been like a second brother to Caroline for her entire life, his worry a reflection of her own as he set a hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Keep your chin up, Caro," he said softly. "All will be well. He would not dare to jilt you, for he would have me, Daniel, and the rest of the Spinsters' Club's husbands to contend with if he did."

Caroline nodded feebly, glancing back at the church entrance. But instead of concentrating on the worn varnish and black iron studs of the double doors, her eyes flitted to the figure standing sentinel at the very rear of the church. As pale and still as a statue.

Judging by his grim expression, Max Dennis was either going to lose his temper or lose his mind at any moment, his muscular arms straining at the seams of his tailcoat, his broad chest rising and falling with haste, punishing the buttons of his waistcoat.

His sea blue eyes caught her staring, and the lethal glare she received in return made her breath lodge in her throat, her heart racing twice as fast as before until she felt like it might burst clean out of her chest.

How can someone so handsome be so unfeeling?

"Has no one thought to ask Maximilian where his brother is?" Olivia asked, thumbing back at that furious living statue.

Daniel's lip twitched. "Of course I have. He claims his brother was right behind him."

"Right behind him?" Phoebe squeaked. "Well, that is not a good omen, is it?"

Daniel sagged. "What would you have me do, darling?"

"Anything but this useless standing around," Phoebe replied, reaching for Caroline's shaking hand. "She is trembling like a leaf!"

Just then, the church doors shrieked open, and the entire congregation whipped around so fast that Caroline was certain she could hear the echo of necks cracking. Meanwhile, her heart stopped completely, holding her breath as a cloaked figure swept back their hood.

But it was not Dickie. It was Percival.

Casting a hesitant eye over the group by the altar, Percival hurried straight to Max and leaned in, whispering quickly and animatedly. Max whispered back, his stony demeanor splintering into a huffing, puffing vision of outright fury, his hushed hisses slithering down the aisle like serpents.

He is not coming. The thought popped into Caroline's head at the very moment that Max strode toward the altar, his eyes two searing embers in the midst of his blanched face.

"My brother, in his infinite idiocy, has fled," he announced, his tone thick with restrained rage. "Percy attempted to give chase but lost him in the woods."

He is not coming, the small voice in Caroline's mind repeated, softer and gladder than before, her racing heart slowing and swelling with secret joy. She knew she should be doubly worried about how this would affect her standing and her reputation, but she could consider those concerns later. For now, she was positively euphoric, though she was careful not to show it, hiding it by dipping her head and gazing at the floor.

"Are you quite serious?" Daniel erupted, grabbing Max by the lapel. "How could you have let this happen? You must have known there was a chance that he might run—he is your brother, for goodness' sake! You should have marched him into the church yourself, not allowed him to ride behind you!"

"I agree; I should not have charged Percy with making sure Dickie arrived," Max replied, immoveable as Daniel attempted to jostle him. "But you mistake my character if you think I will not take responsibility for my brother's reckless behavior. I should have known that he would not do his duty, you are correct in that, but I shall do mine. I will remedy this for your family and mine."

Keeping her head down to hide the smile creeping onto her lips, Caroline said in a gentle, sad voice, "There is no need. If you were to march Dickie to the church another day, he would only flee again. He has made his position clear, and I must bear the consequences." She sniffed for dramatic effect, raising what she hoped were sorrowful eyes to Max. "Everyone has done enough to protect me—I shall face society myself and take whatever comes."

Max looked her dead in the eyes, an ice-cold shiver quaking from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head, unable to avert her gaze. It was as if those blue pools had sucked her in, and now she was drowning in their white-hot ire, unable to pull herself out. A gaze that might have had a very different effect in a pleasanter setting. If he were pleasanter.

"Reverend Stanforth," Max barked, straightening up as he looked to the vicar, who seemed to be dozing off in a chair by the lectern.

The vicar jolted up and out of his seat, smoothing down the creases in his robes. "Is the groom here? Shall we begin?"

"No, the groom is not—" Daniel began to say, but Max cut him off.

"The groom is here, Reverend."

Panic surged through Caroline, following the trail her shiver had forged, as her head snapped around to look at the church entrance once more. But there was no one there but Percival, wringing his hands.

Is he seeing things? Trying to delay the inevitable for another hour? She had no time to ponder her questions as a rough hand closed over hers, pulling her closer to the altar in a most unseemly fashion.

Before she could protest or find any measure of strength to pry Max's fingers away from her hand—though she doubted even her greatest strength would be a match for the least of Max's—she heard him say the words that took an explosive to her hopes and dreams and liberty. His voice shattered the world as she knew it, leaving her with a future she wanted even less than a marriage to Dickie.

" I will be marrying Lady Caroline today," Max said, tightening his grip on Caroline's hand. "So, if you please, proceed."