Chapter 8 #3
“I can assure you that it wasn’t funny at the time. I’m going to send you a bill for the repairs.”
“Wait,” Landon said. “You said we. Don’t tell me you forgot to take Lady Carenza back home?” He started laughing again.
“Of course I took her back,” Max said hastily. “She was not amused, either.”
“Well, her opinion hardly counts in society, does it? She’s from bad stock, and it shows.”
Max looked at him. “What a snob you are, Landon.”
“Better than becoming a bore like you, Max,” Landon said. “You’re no fun anymore.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Max said. “At some point one does have to grow up and stop acting like a schoolboy.”
“Easy for you to say, when you’ll become a duke,” Landon said, all traces of amusement draining from his face. “And how dare you question how I choose to live my life?”
“I’m not questioning you, I’m questioning myself.”
“Fine, then toddle off and find some new friends. I’m sick and tired of being treated with such little respect.” Landon walked toward the door.
“As you wish,” Max said.
His friend swung around, his face contorted with anger. “You think you’re better than me? That just because you’re the son of a duke, you can behave how you like? Easy when you’re always conveniently forgiven because everyone wants to curry favor with you.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Max said. “I suppose I’ve just grown up.”
Landon gave him one last scathing look and went out, slamming the door behind him.
Max let out his breath. Had he done the right thing being so direct? In his experience, Landon made a horrible enemy, but Max could no longer tolerate his antics. Landon hadn’t even asked after his missing coachman. His lack of regard for the life of another was truly breathtaking.
Max left the room and went back into the main salon. There was no sign of Landon or some of his former cronies, which meant he could enjoy a drink in peace.
“Your friends have all left.” A voice came from one of the wing chairs by the fire. “Perhaps you should hurry after them.” Max turned and found himself looking at his youngest brother, George.
Max took the chair opposite. “I have no desire to chase after them.”
George, who was a blonder version of Max, raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
“I am a changed man,” Max continued. “They behave like schoolboys, and I’m tired of it.”
“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say in years,” George said. “What brought that about?”
Max half-smiled. “Almost reaching the age of thirty? Realizing there is more to life than getting drunk and behaving appallingly?”
George continued to regard him. “I’ll be interested to see if your change of heart is permanent.”
“I’m not surprised you doubt me.” Max signaled to the waiter for a brandy. “But after Landon’s last stunt …” He shook his head. “I have no desire to continue our friendship.”
The waiter brought his brandy, and Max took it with a word of thanks. “Is Mother in town? I had a letter from her.”
“No, but Father is. He was most put out that you weren’t here.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know that I have returned,” Max said. “Has he opened up the townhouse?”
“Yes, because I came up to town with him,” George said. “He wishes to speak in the House of Lords on a matter that concerns him. I helped draft his speech.”
“Good for you.”
George grimaced. “I have little else to do with my time, as he refuses to relinquish control of anything.”
“I am quite aware of that,” Max said.
“Yes, it made me view your ‘antics’ in a new light.”
“Antics?”
“Your inability to conform to his expectations springs from his reluctance to educate you in the affairs of his estate. In short, you have nothing to do, either.”
“Well put,” Max said. “You’re the second person to suggest that my current choices are dictated by my lack of employment.”
“Who else said that?” George asked.
“No one you would know,” Max said. “But perhaps she was right.”
“A woman dared tell the great Max Devereux that he was acting like a fool because his father doesn’t trust him?” George grinned. “That sounds like the kind of woman I would love to meet.”
“I doubt you’ll get the opportunity.”
“Let me guess—you banished her from your presence because she dared to have an opinion.”
“On the contrary, she was the one who walked away from me.” Max finished his brandy and rose to his feet. “It was good to see you, George. Tell Father that I’ll present myself at the townhouse tomorrow morning at eleven.”
He clapped his brother on the shoulder and left the club, nodding at acquaintances on the way.
He decided to walk home, as it wasn’t too late, and the night sky was clear.
For the first time in his life, he felt acutely alone.
There was no gang of rowdy friends surrounding him, and there was no Lady Allegra Musgrove.
He slowed to a stop, his gaze fixed on one of the streetlamps ahead of him.
He missed her.
Max picked up his pace. The best thing he could do for Allegra was to keep her name out of the mouths of the ton and protect her peace. If he succeeded in that, everything else would become manageable.