Chapter 21

After a mostly sleepless night, Ada contemplated whether she ought to postpone her wherry adventure. Perhaps today was not the day to conquer her fears. Indeed, today seemed perfect for burying her head beneath the bedclothes and ignoring the world.

Particularly due to the fact that Max was leaving.

But then she’d decided it would be good if she were gone from the club when he left. Then she wouldn’t be tempted to run after him and beg him to stay.

Ada went downstairs just before their appointed time of departure for Horse Ferry. Prudence had just arrived and was standing in the entry hall with Evie, their heads bent together, whispering.

“Ready?” Evie asked brightly.

“Yes.” Ada followed them outside into the warm summer morning. They were taking Evie’s coach, which would then meet them at Somerset House.

Once they were situated—Ada in the rear-facing seat and the others opposite her—Prudence frowned. “Ada, I’m sorry, but you look terrible. And given what we heard last night about the scene in the members’ den, I can guess why.”

Tears threatened, but Ada didn’t think she had any left to shed. “Was the entire club abuzz?” Ada wondered if she’d have to find new employment. Max had made it plain that she had engaged in an affair and gotten with child. Oh, how she’d hoped no one had heard.

Evie looked at her in sympathy. “Not the entire club. It was clear there was a…situation, but the circumstances are not known. I can guess, however, because I know all the players.”

Prudence knew them too, and Ada could only assume Evie had told her about Jonathan’s proposal.

“And now I’ve heard that Warfield is leaving today,” Evie said. “Alone?”

“Whom would he be leaving with?”

“Don’t pretend there’s nothing between you and him,” Prudence said. “We’re your closest friends. We know you. We’re also quite capable of seeing the both of you and how you interact. It was abundantly clear at Vauxhall that you care for each other. The question I have is how much.”

“I love him.” Ada turned her head, unable to bear their sympathy another moment. “But you know me, I crave love like a bee needs honey.”

“So? That doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”

Ada glanced toward Evie who’d spoken. “I’m doomed to love people I shouldn’t or who can’t love me in return. Time and time again, I’m reminded I should be alone.”

Evie sniffed. “Well, that sounds rather pitiful.”

Indeed it did. “I lied to Max about my affair with Jonathan. I left out the part about him being married. I didn’t think Max would understand.” That was what agonized her the most. Why would she think that? He’d revealed himself to her completely, and she ought to have done the same.

“You mustn’t continue to torture yourself,” Prudence said softly.

The counsel Ada had given Max on more than one occasion came back to haunt her—guilt was a terrible thing. This was fresh guilt, however. She should have been honest with him as he’d been with her. Now she had to deal with the consequences.

“Did you tell Max the truth?” Evie asked. “Is that why he’s leaving today? If so, good riddance. If he loved you, he would understand why you were afraid to tell him.”

Ada took a deep breath and pressed her spine against the back of the seat. “This isn’t a novel, Evie.” She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. Then she looked at her friends and summoned a smile. “I would like to forget about last night and Max for a while if I can. Today is a monumental day for me, and I would like to focus on overcoming my fear.”

Evie and Prudence exchanged a glance, then looked back to her and nodded.

Prudence smiled. “Of course. We only want what’s best for you. I would hate to see you hurting.”

“I will recover from a slightly broken heart.” What an understatement that was. “Anyway, there is no future for Max and me. He is a reluctant viscount with no desire to wed who lives a long day’s travel from London. I am a successful, independent woman with a thriving life in London. We are completely mismatched.”

That made her feel better. Even if she hadn’t been a fool to keep the truth from him, he would have left all the same. Perhaps not today, but soon. The circumstances of that parting would actually have been much more painful. This was like removing the thorn at once instead of having to work it from one’s flesh.

They arrived at the Horse Ferry and the coachman negotiated their wherry ride. Evie had arranged this because the watermen could be rather aggressive, particularly if there were multiple men vying for their business.

Their waterman was called Gradon. Thick, with muscular arms from rowing, he had a broad smile that showed a missing tooth on the lower right side. “Who’s gettin’ in first?”

“I will,” Evie said, taking his hand as she climbed into the boat from where the stairs met the water.

Prudence went next, and then it was Ada’s turn. The boat bobbed in the river, and sweat broke out across Ada’s back and beneath her breasts. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

“Come on, Ada. You can do it,” Evie encouraged warmly.

“I’m afraid,” she blurted to Gradon.

“Oi, there’s no need to be afraid,” he said cheerfully. “I’m quite good at rowing. Have ye never been on a boat before?”

She could row his boat, but absolutely did not want to. “My father was a fisherman.”

“Then ye should be an expert! Come on, then.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward so that she had to step onto the boat.

Ada yelped, clutching him as if her life depended on him. And she supposed it did.

Gradon laughed. “Ye’ve quite a grip there. I bet ye could row.”

“Yes, actually,” she murmured, willing herself to breathe.

Evie and Prudence were seated at the back of the small wherry. They held up their hands for Ada.

“Get yerself seated,” Gradon said, peeling Ada away from himself.

Ada took two steps and grabbed her friends, who settled her between them. They kept hold of her, each clasping one of her hands.

Prudence smiled encouragingly. “There now, this is fine, isn’t it?”

“Just fine.” Ada still couldn’t take a substantial breath.

Gradon pushed them away from the stairs and, standing at the bow, rowed toward Westminster. The wherry bobbed along the water, and Ada squeezed her friends’ hands.

“How long will this take?” she asked tightly.

“Not long,” Evie said merrily. “Just enjoy the lovely summer day.” She tipped her face up to the sky, smiling in the sunlight.

Ada clenched her teeth. She didn’t want to watch Gradon rowing. He looked too precarious standing there as the boat rose and dipped on the water. He could so easily topple into the Thames.

She squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out the terrible thoughts of what her father might have suffered when his boat went down. No, she wouldn’t think about that. Imagining him cold and afraid and…dying never failed to fill her with unparalleled anguish. She felt as if she were the one drowning.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” She whispered the words over and over.

“Should we have him take us to the nearest water stairs?” Prudence asked softly, her voice thick with concern.

Ada opened her eyes. She refused to be cowed any longer. She could do this.

Looking about, she saw that they were quite a way into the river—not in the center, but much too far away from safety. Other boats moved around them, not too close, but Ada stared, horrified, at the people laughing and chattering. How could they be enjoying themselves?

She swore under her breath. The point was to enjoy the ride. And that didn’t just mean this wherry trip. Life was a journey, and if you couldn’t seek and find joy, what was the point?

“Stop!” she called out.

“What’s that?” Gradon turned his head, pausing his strokes.

“Would you stop for a moment?” She wanted to see if she could just sit in the wherry and become accustomed to the motion of the water. Perhaps she could start to relax a little.

The waterman frowned. “I shouldn’t.”

“Would it help?” Prudence asked her.

“I think it might and I’d like to try.”

“I’ll double your fee,” Evie said to Gradon. “Just stop for a few minutes so Miss Treadway can acclimate herself. It’s terribly important.” She flashed him a coquette’s smile, her lashes fluttering, and Ada thought Gradon would probably refund their money rather than take twice what they’d already paid.

The waterman smiled dizzily, and for a moment, Ada feared he actually would careen into the river. “For a few minutes.” He sat down abruptly, setting the long oar across his lap.

“Ada!”

“Did you hear that?” Prudence asked, looking off into the distance.

“Ada, wait!”

Yes, Ada had heard that. She squinted and saw another boat coming at them. A moment later, she recognized Max. He wasn’t wearing a hat.

“Ada, thank goodness I found you.”

Now it was Prudence and Evie who gripped Ada tightly.

“Move closer,” Max said loudly to his waterman.

The man shook his head, but Ada couldn’t hear what he said.

“What the devil is he doing?” Gradon asked, tipping his hat back on his head. “Does he know ye?”

“Yes,” Ada answered, her heart swelling. He’d come looking for her. On the river.

“He won’t let me come closer!” Max shouted. “Says he’ll be fined or something.” He sent a glower toward the waterman, and Ada could practically hear him growl. She covered her mouth as she giggled. That was the beast she’d met.

“It’s too dangerous for him to come closer,” Gradon warned. “He might capsize or take us down with him.”

Panic seized Ada’s lungs. “Don’t come any closer!” she cried.

Even from this distance—which was at least twenty yards—she could see his face fall.

“I love you, Ada,” he shouted. “I know you probably don’t want to hear that. It certainly wasn’t in my plans, but I love you most desperately.”

Between her trepidation about being in the wherry and the sudden appearance of the man she’d thought she couldn’t have, Ada’s heart was racing. He loved her?

He went on, his voice loud and clear across the water. “I was a rotter last night. I don’t care what you’ve done. I won’t judge you, just as you haven’t judged me.” He wiped his hand over his face. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that kindness from you, but it saved me completely. I owe everything to you.”

Ada raised her voice. “No, you don’t. You are so much more than what you’ve suffered.”

“Only because you showed me. You’ve shone your light and given me the path from the darkness. I know who I want to be. Your husband, if you’ll allow it.” He knelt in the wherry. “Ada, will you marry me?”

Other boats had gathered—as close as was safe apparently—and the occupants were watching. An eerie silence had fallen.

“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Evie murmured.

Prudence beamed. “It’s absolutely fitting for Ada.”

“But—” Ada struggled to find words.

“I know you have a life here and that you love your position at the club. Perhaps you can remain employed there. I’m sure Lucien will work it out for you. They’d hate to lose you. In fact, you can stay in London, and I’ll be with you as much as I can. Once Mrs. Tallent is up to speed at Stonehill?—”

Ada cut him off. “Just stop! Yes, I’ll marry you.” Her stomach flipped, and it had nothing to do with the wherry.

Max suddenly pitched forward into the river. Ada screamed. She launched from her seat to the edge of the wherry, tipping them toward the water.

“Ye daft chit!” Gradon hollered. “Get away from there. Ye’re going to send us over.”

Ada sprawled backward. “Save him, please!”

“He don’t need saving. He’s swimming.”

Evie helped Ada up before retaking her seat.

Then Max’s hand appeared on the side of the boat.

“Bloody hell,” Gradon muttered. He gestured Ada and the others. “Get to that side so we don’t tip over.”

They scrambled to do what he said as Gradon moved to pull Max into the boat. “Ye’re an idiot.”

Max grinned. “Yes, I am.”

Gradon rolled his eyes. “Sit in the middle there and don’t move or ye’ll unsettle the boat. Ye ladies get to the back.”

“Can I sit in the middle with him?” Ada asked, desperate to touch him.

“Be quick about it,” Gradon grumbled.

Ada joined Max and immediately put her arms around him—carefully, lest she rock the wherry too much. He embraced her in return, and she became thoroughly damp.

She pulled back in alarm. “How is your shoulder? You should not have done that.”

He grimaced. “Probably not. But I’d do it again.” He smiled at her and kissed her.

Around them there were shouts and applause.

“You’ve an enthusiastic audience,” Evie said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you followed me here,” Ada said.

“I couldn’t leave without telling you how I felt and begging you to be my wife. Did you really say yes?”

She nodded. “I love you too. I have for some time. I never imagined you could feel the same about me.”

He stared into her eyes, truly perplexed. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I suppose I thought I was destined to be alone, that I wasn’t worthy of love or family.”

“That could never be true. You make everyone around you feel so special and valued—like family.”

She’d never thought of herself like that. She was cheerful and kind, but Max made her sound like someone who was…worthy. “I thought I was meant to be alone, that I deserved to be after all I’ve done.” Apparently, she wasn’t as adept at dismissing guilt as she wanted to believe.

“No more than I deserved to live a life of darkness and despair. You showed me that wasn’t true, that I could have and be so much more. I just have to work for it instead of hiding away.” He caressed her cheek. “Will you let me try to do the same for you? I don’t know if I can give you even a fraction of what you’ve given me?—”

She put her finger over his gorgeous lips. “You’ve already given me more than I dreamed. You’ve given me the impossible.”

She kissed him, heedless of their audience or the wherry or the fact that they were now both quite wet. She didn’t care about anything but him and their future together.

Mrs. Renshaw’s drawing room was an extremely feminine space, with floral wallpaper and a combination of bold and soft hues. It made Max feel more beastly than usual, or perhaps he was still trying to find his comfort in a group. By the time he and Ada had returned to the Phoenix Club with Prudence and Mrs. Renshaw, the latter had planned a dinner for that evening to celebrate his and Ada’s betrothal. Max would have preferred to be alone, but he could see how happy Ada’s friends were and wouldn’t deny them this occasion. It wasn’t even a large group—just Mrs. Renshaw, Prudence, Glastonbury. Lucien and Dougal hadn’t yet arrived.

Perhaps his slight anxiety was due to the massive change he’d made today. He was getting married. His gaze found Ada. She stood with Mrs. Renshaw and Prudence, glowing as she’d been since he’d met her in the middle of the Thames.

There was a small voice in the back of his mind that questioned his decision, but Max kept telling it to be quiet. This wasn’t what he’d planned, but it was, without debate, what he wanted. He knew better than to expect a quiet mind. He wasn’t even sure what that felt like anymore.

“Lord Lucien,” the butler intoned as Lucien strolled into the drawing room.

Max frowned. Lucien looked distraught. He was not wearing his usual affable expression, and Max would have expected that given the news of the day. Both Lucien and Glastonbury had been at the club when they’d arrived and had tried to insist on drinking a toast to the betrothal. Max had managed to put them off since both he and Ada were soaking wet and in need of a bath. They’d shared that bath in her chamber.

“Good evening,” Lucien said. “I regret to inform you that Dougal won’t be joining us. He’s left for Scotland. He received bad news about his brother.”

Max approached him and quietly asked, “How bad?” He almost didn’t want to know. It reminded him of when he’d learned his father and then his brother had died.

“As bad as you can imagine,” Lucien whispered. “There was some kind of accident. Dougal is now the heir.”

Struggling to breathe, Max felt as though he’d been hit in the gut. “I’m so sorry for him,” he murmured, the pain of his own loss rising to the surface.

Lucien clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry for him and for you.”

Ada came to Max’s side and put her arm around his waist. “What’s wrong? You look distressed.”

“Lucien says Dougal’s brother has died.” At least Dougal still had his father. Max looked to Lucien. “I imagine Dougal will spend some time in Scotland with the earl.”

“I would expect that, especially given how close they are.”

“I’m so sorry to dampen your evening,” Lucien said.

“Not at all,” Ada said warmly. “We will keep Dougal in our thoughts.”

“He would appreciate that.” Lucien looked from her to Max and back to her again. “We should discuss what you proposed earlier.”

In the brief time they’d spoken to Lucien before hurrying upstairs to remove their sodden clothing, Ada had expressed her desire to maintain her position at the club. She pivoted toward Lucien, eager to make her case. “I know it will be difficult if I’m not here all the time, but you managed all right for the fortnight I was at Stonehill. I’d be in London during the Season and at least one week a month the rest of the year.”

“You’ve given this a great deal of thought.” Lucien sounded pensive.

She nodded. “I love my job, and I’d be very sorry to leave it.”

“Does that mean you would leave it?” Lucien kept his voice neutral, but Max saw the slight crease in his brow.

“If you’re asking whether I’d chose to stay at the Phoenix Club instead of marrying Max, the answer is no. As much as I love working there, I love Max more.” She pressed against his side, and he felt as though he might burst with joy.

“Her plan could work,” Max said. “What if she hired an assistant to help while she’s gone? Surely you know someone, or several someones, in need of employment?”

Ada looked up at Max in adoration. “That’s an excellent idea.”

Lucien grinned. “Either you two fell hopelessly in love today or you were both incredibly adept at cloaking the depth of your feelings. I suspected you might have a tendre for each other, but it’s now painfully obvious you can’t seem to draw breath without the other.”

“Er, I might have been hiding how I felt,” Ada said sheepishly.

Max put his arm around her. “I don’t think I fully grasped my emotions. That will happen when you’ve been avoiding them as long as I have.”

“I couldn’t be happier for you both. Let me think on the specifics of the club, but you have my support—we’ll find a way to keep you entangled. You are far too valuable to let go. Truly, I don’t know what we would do without you, Ada.” Lucien gave her a proud nod and took himself off.

“Are you relieved?” Max asked.

“Yes. And flattered.” Her smile was so bright. “It’s nice to feel so wanted.”

“You’re wanted and needed. None of us can function without you.”

She narrowed one eye at him. “This is why you’re marrying me, isn’t it?”

He turned toward her and put his hands on her waist, not caring about the others on the other side of the room. “I’m marrying you because I love you completely—as completely as a fraction of a man can.”

She put her hands flat against his chest. “You are not a fraction of a man. Indeed, I sometimes think you are more man than I can manage.”

Laughter bubbled from his chest, and it was the loveliest sensation. “There is nothing you can’t manage.”

“If you say so.” She smiled up at him, probably not meaning to be seductive but provoking lustful thoughts just the same.

“I do. I have not yet thanked you for finding Arrow. I took a short ride late this afternoon and it was as if we’d never been parted. I don’t know why I let him go. I suppose I thought it would be less painful.”

“That sounds familiar,” she murmured. “It seems we were both ready to let the other go rather than risk our hearts.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the reflection of his immense love for her. “I’m still afraid I’ll lose you. Perhaps I always will be. But I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“I know. And I’ll do the same for you. For the first time in so long, I feel truly connected to someone. I know you won’t leave me.”

He squeezed her waist and brushed his lips across hers. “Never.”

The butler came in to announce dinner, and they reluctantly parted. Max offered her his arm, and they walked downstairs to the dining room.

“I wonder if you might teach me to ride?” Ada asked.

“I should love that. I’ll visit Tattersall’s to purchase you a mount.”

“I suppose you must, given the dearth of livestock in your stables at Stonehill.”

“Perhaps I should buy a few horses. Can I afford that? I reviewed the books before I came to London—your work astonishes me—but you know them better than I do.”

She laughed softly. “Yes, you can afford them.”

“Even after I buy you an enormous and outrageously expensive betrothal ring tomorrow?”

“Well, perhaps it needn’t be outrageously expensive. Unless you insist.” She looked up at him, smiling. “I truly don’t need anything grand. All I need is you.”

When they were seated, Lucien lifted his glass of wine. “A toast to my very dear friends, Max and Ada. May they always be as happy as they are today—happier even.”

A chorus of “Hear, hear,” went round the table as everyone raised their glasses.

Joy expanded within Max, and he realized he was a whole man, and that Ada had made him that way.