‘Outrageous, Bignell, I shall have to marry the lady, I suppose.’ Max sighed, tossing his hat to the footman. ‘Ryder, come and meet Miss Mallory.’
He pushed open the salon door and strolled in, only to be brought up short by the sight of Bree’s white, strained face and Piers, coiled like a spring under tension, at her side. ‘Max! Thank goodness you are back. I am so sorry, coming here like this, but we need your help so badly. You will never guess what that toad Latymer has done.’
‘If he has laid a finger on you—’ His insides were suddenly hollow as the memory of Bree struggling in Latymer’s arms came flooding back. He grasped her by the shoulders as he searched her face, his light-hearted mood swept clean away.
‘No, not that, although he had a swordstick at Piers’s throat. Max, he has cheated Uncle out of his share of the coach company.’
Behind him Max heard Ryder clearing his throat. ‘I’ll just—’
‘No, Ryder, don’t go, we may need you.’ He took Bree’s arm and guided her back into the room. ‘Piers, are you all right?’
‘The bastard—’ the boy began.
Max held up a hand. ‘Not that language in front of your sister.’ Bree growled, making Max’s lips twitch. He imagined she would have a stronger word for Latymer. ‘This is Mr Ryder, who acts in confidential matters for me. Tell us what happened.’
‘Mr Ryder.’ Bree nodded politely, sat down on the nearest sofa and swallowed, obviously marshalling the facts. Max listened, trying to control his fury as the tale unfolded. ‘He thinks he has us over a barrel,’ she concluded. ‘He says that a gambling debt between gentlemen could not be challenged legally, and I expect he is right. My uncle is of sound mind, no one coerced him into playing, he admits that himself. He signed IOUs.’ She turned troubled blue eyes on Max. ‘I am sorry, Ma … my lord. I could think of no one else to advise us. James will not have the slightest sympathy.’
Inside, somewhere beyond the fury, Max felt a warm glow building. She had come to him, trusted him to help her. Despite what she had said, her protests, he knew she felt more for him than she would admit.
‘Your uncle could default,’ Ryder observed dispassionately from where he stood near the window. With a fraction of his attention Max noted the way he had automatically taken up a position where he could scan the street. The man was dangerous.
‘And have Latymer spread it far and wide that he did so?’ Bree demanded. ‘My half-brother is about to marry the daughter of the Duke of Matchingham. Piers and I are already considered something of an embarrassment. Latymer will know how to make a scandal out of this.’
The agent cleared his throat. ‘Dysart, have you played Latymer? How good is he? Does he cheat?’ Ryder’s questions brought a grim smile to Max’s lips—he could see where this was heading.
‘He plays moderately well, not as well as I do. I have never suspected foul play, although he would not dare to try it, I suspect, not in the club. Against an inexperienced player, slightly fuddled with drink—I can imagine nothing more likely.’
‘Then we have him,’ Ryder said, a slow smile curling his lips. ‘All I need to do is to lure him into a game, somewhere public, then either catch him cheating, or create the illusion that he has. As the price of our silence he hands back all the IOUs and any documents from Miss Mallory’s uncle.’
Max watched Bree’s face as she listened. He loved the way she tipped her head slightly to one side as she concentrated, and the focus of those incredible blue eyes on Ryder’s face. ‘That sounds a wonderful plan—except, where are you going to catch him?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t turn up at the club,’ Max observed. ‘He has the brass neck to do so. He knows Nevill and I will keep quiet so as not to bring your name into it, he knows I won’t call him out now he has apologised. He has no reason to suppose you would bring your uncle’s problems to me.
‘Now, all we need to do is to introduce Ryder as a guest. If you don’t mind letting him into the secret, I’ll ask Lansdowne to do it so there will be no connection with me.’
‘I’ll wait to hear.’ Jack Ryder nodded pleasantly to the Mallorys. ‘A pleasure to meet you. Dysart, you know where to find me.’
Max saw him to the door then came back into the room. ‘I’m sure you must be busy, Piers,’ he observed.
‘No.’ The lad beamed back. ‘That’s a great plot to snare Latymer, I wish I could see what happens.’
‘Piers,’ Max said with more emphasis and a jerk of his head towards the door. ‘I am convinced that Miss Thorpe is in need of a discussion about company business after your absence. I will see your sister home.’
‘Oh. Oh, right. Yes, I’ll be off then.’ He grinned cheekily at Max as he strolled out. ‘Is this worth a driving lesson?’
‘You can drive my Hanoverians,’ Max assured him. ‘Just go!’
Chapter Nineteen
Bree emerged from a vengeful daydream of Brice Latymer being exposed as a cheat in front of the entire Nonesuch Club to find herself alone in the room with Max.
‘Where has Piers gone?’
‘I bribed him to leave us alone. Are you all right?’ Max came and sat next to her, pulling her snug against his shoulder before she could protest. It felt so good to lean into the solid strength of him.
‘I am fine now, thanks to you.’ With a determined effort she sat up and moved along the seat, putting a safe distance between them. It had been so easy to slip back into that intimate closeness with him. ‘Is Mr Ryder the enquiry agent you have engaged to trace your wife?’
‘Yes.’ Max looked down at his clasped hands, then up to meet her eyes. She realised, fear pooling in her belly, that she could not read his expression, but that he was about to say something momentous. She should have given up all hope of marriage to him, she knew that, but it still felt as though her fate hung in the balance.
‘Has he found her?’ Her voice shook, just a little.
‘Yes,’ Max said again. ‘We both did. Bree, she died, in Winchester, with her family, just as Ryder thought. We found the verger who recorded the details and have a sworn affidavit.’
‘Oh.’ Bree felt the tears filling her eyes. ‘Oh, poor woman. And poor you. How was it in Winchester? Or would you prefer not to speak of it?’
‘Sad. But, strangely, good. I felt able to say goodbye to Drusilla. At last I know the worst. I have ordered a headstone for them, paid the sexton to keep the grave in good order.’
They sat in silence for several minutes, the soft tick of the clock the only sound in the room. Bree tried to sort out her feelings and found she did not know what to think, how to feel, only that the temptation to turn into Max’s arms was almost overwhelming.
‘Oh, God. Bree.’ Max reached out for her, took her mouth with a savage intensity that fired her blood, swept away her tenuous self-control. Instinctively she knew what it was, this fierceness. He had contemplated death, stood by a graveside, now he wanted to reaffirm the fact that he was alive, that she was here, in his arms.
Max’s hands swept over her, restless, seeking. Now her body knew what his wanted and responded to him, arching against him as her fingers clenched hard on his shoulders. Now she recognised and understood that hot, liquid feeling inside her, the gathering knot of tension, so low down.
‘I want you so much.’ His voice was ragged against the soft skin beneath her ear. His mouth moved on the column of her neck, his lips nipping painlessly until suddenly he bit, very gently, against the pulse.