Chapter Thirty-Seven
“You cannot sit like that. You look like a sack of grain. Straighten up or I shall be forced to put knives in the back of the chair. Really, you’re worse than a child.”
Max groaned as he came around the corner and entered the parlor.
He saw what he expected to see. His mother sat perched on the edge of the settee like a bird teetering on the edge of a vase.
Yihui, on the other hand, sat fully in her chair, using the furniture as it was intended.
At his mother’s admonishment, she straightened up her back and he quickly grabbed a small pillow to shove into the space she’d created.
“Max! She cannot depend on pillows. That’s not how a lady sits.”
“She’s been working night and day at her shop—”
“For God’s sake, don’t mention that!”
He glanced ruefully at Yihui and felt his lips quirk at her angelic expression.
She’d already told him that she intended to mention her apothecary shop often.
It was the best way to get aristocratic customers.
And if she didn’t let the information drop, he absolutely intended to.
He’d already talked to his friends about how her miracle tea had eased his mother’s spells.
In truth, he had no idea if it were the tea or the fact that his mother was the center of a great deal of attention.
She always thrived when she was busy, but Emmaline had remarked that their mother was also more even-tempered lately.
No hysterical outbursts or unexplained tears.
And not a single chest-clutching episode of interrupted breath.
If any of that was due to the tea, then he was pleased to share that information with everyone. Meanwhile, he smiled at his mother.
“I’m pleased that you’re here this evening and not out at a ball. Did you have any special afternoon callers?”
His mother gasped in shock. “Absolutely not! She’s not remotely ready to be seen by anyone.”
“Oh,” he said. “That’s unfortunate because I’ve invited a friend to join us at supper.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Indeed, I believe he should be arriving any minute now.”
His mother leaped up, her expression downright furious. “How could you invite someone to dine without mentioning this to me? Do you think this is a game, preparing your fiancée to be presented at court? Everything she does shall reflect upon our name. Everything!”
“Your Grace,” Yihui interrupted just when his mother was drawing breath.
“I am mindful of your work, even if your son is not. The strain upon you is significant. Do you wish to send for more tea? I have added a touch of orangery as you requested. Perhaps you could tell me if that improves the taste.”
His mother turned to glare at Yihui, but her expression slowly eased as Yihui visibly inhaled and exhaled. The duchess did the same. And as the woman continued to ease her breath, Yihui rang a small silver bell that was set near her hand.
To his delight, Olivia stepped forward in her new ducal livery. It looked very good on her, he thought, especially when she smiled which is what she was doing now. Sadly, her curtsy was a tad rough, but he was sure it would get smoother with time.
“Her Grace needs a taste of the new tea. Can you bring it for us please?”
Olivia didn’t speak her answer, but she did curtsy again and disappear.
“I see that the new gowns have arrived,” he commented as he finally remembered the proprieties.
He clasped Yihui’s hand and bent over it as he might for the queen.
He gave her every respect in word and form, but he reserved a special moment when their eyes connected to tease a finger along the underside of her wrist.
It was scandalous flirtation, but she seemed to delight in it as much as he did.
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes took on a dreamy quality he couldn’t resist. She wore a gown of the brightest-yellow silk embroidered with a pair of playful goldfishes dancing along the skirt.
It was a whimsical dress and one that surprised him.
Of all the qualities he had witnessed in Yihui, whimsy had never appeared.
Until now.
When given the safety to indulge her tastes, Yihui had a playful side that delighted him.
“And have you no greeting for your mother?” the duchess asked tartly.
She was right. As the highest-ranking woman in the room, she should have been acknowledged first. But how could he defer any interaction with Yihui?
She drew him like the sun. Or more accurately, as a flower just beginning to blossom.
She was coming alive despite the hours his mother picked at her and the tedious work of fixing up the apothecary shop.
“Max?” His mother’s tone was exhausted, not irritated.
“Hmm?” Damn it, he’d lost himself in looking at Yihui. “I have waited because I have a surprise for you,” he covered quickly.
“A surprise?” the duchess asked, her tone skeptical as she offered him her hand.
He bowed over her as was appropriate, but when he stood, he pulled out a gilt-edged letter with a royal seal upon it. He handed it to her.
“It is our invitation to the palace, Mother. We have an official date for Yihui’s presentation to the king.”
The lady gasped as she tore open the letter. And then she dropped it into her lap with a horrified cry. “Tuesday next?” she squeaked. “Tuesday next!”
“Yes, it’s an informal gathering, or as informal as these things go.
The prince is aware that Yihui cannot dance, but she will be expected to sit with his majesty for a bit, perhaps share some wine.
The queen will be there, as well as several dozen courtiers.
” He grimaced as he looked back at his fiancée.
“I’m afraid we were not officially invited to dine, though that may come if you do well during the first part.
” He truly was disappointed with that lack, though he supposed it would come eventually after they married.
Or rather, it wouldn’t come at all because they wouldn’t actually marry.
“What does Christopher think of the situation?” Yihui asked. “Does he have any ideas?”
Max’s jaw tightened as fear burned beneath his skin. “No one has heard or seen Chris since the night…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Yihui was well aware of his worries for his best friend.
“You have not found him?”
He shook his head. “I am at my wit’s end. He has disappeared, and I am alarmed. The Bow Street Runner I hired has learned nothing.”
His mother looked up. “Oh, I hardly think that was necessary. That boy was always wandering off somewhere. He’d turn up a day or a month later with a cheeky grin and a tale of adventure.”
That was true, and certainly Chris was an adult and therefore able to disappear to wherever he wanted.
But the last thing he’d done was rush off to confront Noah Pearson, a man Max now knew led a gang of thugs.
According to the runner, Mr. Pearson hired himself out to wealthy people who needed someone to perform unpleasant tasks.
That was, after all, exactly what he’d done for the duke.
He’d been paid to abduct Yihui and deliver her to the Rose Garden.
So what would the man do if Chris confronted him in a hotheaded rant? Christopher could hold his own in a fight one on one, but one on six? Especially if all six were trained fighters? No man was that skilled.
Naturally, Mr. Pearson claimed he never saw Chris and knew nothing about the man, but Max had the horrible fear that Chris had landed at the bottom of the Thames.
And the worst thing was that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He kept the runner searching, Chris’s friends and family were commanded to write the moment they heard word of the man, and he watched for news of bodies.
Yihui caught Max’s eyes, and he knew she shared his worry. She said nothing, and yet he still felt comforted. Waiting without news was horrible.
Meanwhile, a roar and a loud clatter sounded from upstairs. Everyone looked up as if they could see through the ceiling, and maybe they could because his mother brushed the invitation irritably through her fingers.
“I see your father has woken from his afternoon rest,” she drawled. “He will want to speak with you directly.”
Max frowned. “About what?”
“As if I know. His secretary was here this morning to report on political matters which naturally put him in a foul mood. And now…” She shrugged. “I don’t suppose you have happy news for him?”
“What shall I tell him, Mother? That I have increased all our servants’ pay first to bring them in line with everyone else in London, and then again to counter his outbursts?”
“No, I don’t believe that will make him happy.”
“Or shall I tell him that he has sorely neglected the Irish estate to the point that I am afraid I shall have to visit it myself and see to repairs?”
“Good lord, he’ll despise that. Said he wants the Irish to—”
“Yes, I know what he wants done with the Irish,” he interrupted.
Meanwhile, Yihui pulled a small clay pot from her pocket and offered it to him. “It is the best Druina could find. I have mixed it to the proper amounts according to a recipe my father used with several of his patients.”
“How successfully?”
She grimaced. “There is no cure for what he suffers. Only an easement of pain. He must learn to adapt or he will be miserable for the rest of his life.”
Max grimaced. “I believe he has chosen to be miserable. And to make everyone else so, as well.” He’d had to double the pay for his father’s valet just to keep him on for another month.
“You must talk to him, Max,” his mother implored. “We cannot live this way.”
“Anything I tell him will likely enrage him further.”
“Then lie to him. Tell him that he is still the most important person in the Tory party. That Prinny himself will come to get his advice. Something. Anything!”
“And what do I say when Prinny refuses to visit?”
“We’ll tell him Prinny did, and he just forgot.”
“Father? Forget a visit from the prince?”
She shrugged. “He’s angry at his ailment anyway. Might as well blame everything on it.”
“Mother, even in his weakened condition…” His voice trailed away.
His mother didn’t care. She and the duke had always survived by staying out of each other’s lives as much as possible.
She ran the social whirl. He occupied his time with politics.
Twice a week they shared a morning breakfast, and that was more than enough for everyone.
To have him in the house this much was an impossible situation for everyone.
Max grimaced. “Perhaps it is time for some plain speaking.”
“Oh good God, no!” his mother gasped. “Never that!”
He smiled. “Mother, you have your way of dealing with Father, and I have mine.” He looked at Yihui.
They had discussed different methods of handling his father last night when he had escorted her to her home.
He’d found her advice to be sound in that she didn’t offer him any.
She listened attentively, helped him clarify his own thoughts, and finally kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
A kiss that he rapidly changed to something a great deal more intimate.
In short, she gave him support for whatever he chose to do. She had no understanding of English norms of behavior, and so left it to him to choose. And in her steady presence, he found his way through the fog.
It was time now to speak plainly with his father.
Though, he wished his surprise guest would arrive before he had to head upstairs.
None of his family had ever met his old schoolmate before.
They’d heard his tales, of course, because Reggie was the friend who had gone to Canton with the East India Company.
Max spent as much time as possible with him whenever the man was in town.
His family, however, would not know what to do with him.
And Max really wanted to see the look on Yihui’s face when she met him.
His wish wasn’t granted. The knocker remained stubbornly silent, and so he finally bowed to both ladies and withdrew.
It was time to give the full truth to his father.