“I don’t know but you are the head of the department. You are all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful.” She paused. “Or so you would like me to believe.”
“I do try,” he said in a modest manner.
“And you started this. You needn’t have called her back to the department.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Perhaps.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But she hasn’t heard from you in days.”
He shrugged. “There’s been no need, nothing for her to do really. Not at the moment.”
A thought struck her and she widened her eyes. “Can’t you talk to him then?”
“To who?”
“Lord W. You know him, don’t you?”
“I am acquainted with Lord Waterston.” Caution underlay his words. “However, I would hardly presume to tell a man, with whom I only exchange the briefest of greetings, how to manage his wife.”
“Manage?” She raised a brow. “Surely you didn’t mean to say manage?”
“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “Never.”
“No doubt.” She drew her brows together. “I’m not suggesting you tell him how to manage her. I daresay Evelyn has never been easily managed, and you, of all people, should know that.”
“Evelyn is a practical woman. I am sure she will come to her senses soon.”
“Maxwell! She did nothing—”
“Or rather he will come to his senses soon,” he said quickly. “Accompanied by copious apologies, much groveling, begging for forgiveness, and all that.”
“Her work for you needs to end and soon. Then she can return to her usual manner. Her husband will have nothing to arouse his suspicions. And my privacy will be restored.”
“I suspect it will be at an end soon.”
“Oh?” She studied him curiously. “Are you closer to finding your file?”
“I practically have it within grasp as we speak. However, I will no longer be directing Evelyn’s activities. I am turning this matter over to ...” He paused. “Sir.”
She stared. “Evelyn said he was no longer with the department.”
He shrugged. “He’s back.”
“Bloody hell,” Celeste said under her breath.
“Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.”
“Evelyn was always intrigued by Sir. If she hadn’t decided she’d had enough of this life ...”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “It’s no more than an impression I’ve always had.” She cast him a wry smile. “There is something quite intriguing and rather romantic about a man one only knows through his words. He could be anyone you imagine him to be.”
“He issued you orders on occasion. Did you imagine him?”
She laughed.
He gasped. “You did!”
“I am a weak woman, Max.” She moved closer and sank down on the edge of the bed. “With a wicked imagination.”
“As long as that wicked imagination is reserved for me ...” He pulled her into his arms. “I suppose I can live with it.”
She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. For a long endless moment, even her imagination could not compete with the feel of his lips against hers, the heat of his body next to hers, the warm, rich, sleep-soaked scent of him. In the back of her mind she wondered what it would be like to wake up with him every morning.
Without warning, he pulled away. “I have been thinking.”
“Oh no.” She gasped with mock dismay. “Not that.”
He ignored her. “I have given some thought to our discussion when you were last here.”
“What discussion was that?”
“About making an honest woman of you.”
She raised a brow. “Are you talking about marriage?”
He nodded.
“If you cannot say the word, Max, it seems to me there is little to discuss.”
“I can say the word,” he said firmly. “I’ve been thinking about your comment that you are not the type of woman I should marry.”
“Oh?”
“I think it’s rubbish.” He met her gaze directly. “I fully intend to marry whomever I wish.”
“Bravo, Max. I have never been prouder.”
His brows pulled together. “You are deliberately being obtuse, aren’t you?”
“Not at all.” She stood, found his dressing gown and tossed it at him, then turned away. It was best for her own sense of purpose not to watch him dress. “You say you intend to marry whomever you wish and I think that’s admirable. Impractical perhaps but admirable.”
“I don’t especially want to be admirable,” he muttered behind her. “What I want is you.”
She shrugged. “And you have me.”
“Not entirely.” He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. “Not in the eyes of the rest of the world.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Celeste, would you do me the honor—”
She laughed. “Don’t say it, Max.”
“Why not?”
“Because right now, this morning, this minute.” She shook her head. “This is certainly not the time and definitely not the place.”
“I should think—”
“Besides, right now, this morning, this minute ...” She pushed out of his arms and swiveled to face him. “You would not like my answer.”
He stared. “I wouldn’t?”
“I hope not.”
“So is it me or is it marriage?”
She chose her words with care. “I have no desire to marry at the moment.”
“Which does not fully answer my question.” He studied her curiously. “Don’t you want marriage? A family? Children and all that?”
“Oh, darling, but I do have children.”
His scoffed. “I know everything there is to know about you. You have no children.”
“Correction, Max,” she said lightly. “You knew everything there was to know when I worked for the department.”
“We’ve been together for three years. How ...” He studied her suspiciously. “Are they my children?”
She laughed. “I suspect you would have noticed if I had been with child.”
“Then whose—”
“They are mine,” she said firmly. “And I intend to say nothing more on the subject.”
He stared.
“Speechless, Max?” She chuckled. “I never imagined such a thing.”
“I have simply never thought of you as a mother.” He frowned. “And I didn’t realize you kept secrets from me.”
“We are even then as I have never thought of you as a father.” She paused. “Or a husband. Oh, and one of the differences between us is that I know you keep secrets from me.”
He considered her for a long, thoughtful moment. “Perhaps it’s time everyone tells everyone the truth. About everything.”
“Oh dear. Are you trying to be the voice of reason?”
“Apparently.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“Good.” He heaved a relieved sigh. “I would find it extremely tiresome.” His eyes narrowed. “This discussion is not at an end.”
“I didn’t think it was. Good morning, Max.” She stepped closer, kissed him quickly, then slipped out of his flat before he could stop her. She needed to return to her house before the servants were about. Besides, it was pointless to argue. When the time was right, she would tell him about her children. And perhaps she would even consider marriage.
But whether he realized it or not, regardless of whether he cared, there would be repercussions to marriage with her. His family and friends would be appalled that not only had he married someone of questionable birth but she had been an actress as well. She wasn’t sure he loved her enough to withstand that.
Indeed, right now, she didn’t know if he loved her at all.
Chapter 13
“Where did all these people come from?” Celeste stared. “I was scarcely gone any t
ime at all.”
Evelyn looked up from her spot on the floor of Celeste’s parlor, in the midst of fabric selections from three different linen drapers. “Goodness, Celeste, you sent for them yourself. This morning, remember?”
“Yes, well ...” Celeste looked around her parlor in what surely was astonishment and not dismay. “I simply didn’t expect all this so quickly.”
“In the notes you delivered, I said I wished to proceed immediately. And as I used the words that strike joy into any merchant’s heart ...” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “ ‘Spare no expense.’ This”—she waved at the room—“is the result. Over there is Mr. Henderson.” She nodded at the man measuring a window. “And Mr. Wendell.” Who was laying wallpaper samples over the sofa. “And Mr. Bryce.” The carpet merchant was pacing off the room. “And then there’s—oh, I forget the names of the others. But there are measurements being taken all over the house.”
“Don’t you think you should give this refurbishing further consideration?” Celeste said carefully.
“I don’t see why.” She got to her feet and dusted off her skirts. “I daresay, nothing in this house has been changed since my parents were alive. It’s past time really.” She cast a satisfied look at the activity in the parlor. “I have been remiss in not doing this before now.”
“Then we should be grateful to Lord W since he is the impetus behind it all.”
“And I am indeed grateful. There is nothing like spending one’s husband’s money in a relatively carefree manner that is most fulfilling. Even when the husband in question has always been generous.” Still, Adrian used words like economize and unnecessary extravagance and frivolous indulgence just often enough to make this even more satisfying than she had expected.
“Even so.” Celeste looked around. “You don’t want to make a rash decision. Perhaps it would be wise to proceed a bit slower.”
“Nonsense.” Evelyn waved off the objection. “Besides I don’t know how long I shall be here, and I would hate to leave you with all this undecided.”
“Thank you,” Celeste said weakly.
Evelyn studied her friend. Admittedly, she had not been quite as enthusiastic as Evelyn last night when Evelyn had announced her plans to completely refurbish the house but she would come around. Oh, it would be somewhat messy and inconvenient, but the end result would be well worth it. Especially since it would keep Evelyn’s mind from dwelling on her husband. As it had from the moment she decided to leave, the moment he didn’t stop her. And very nearly every moment since.
“Did you drop the schedule off for Adrian?” They had any number of social events upcoming, and Evelyn had no desire to attend without her husband. The last thing she wanted was to cause gossip by appearing without Adrian. But begging off from any of them would create more speculation and gossip than attending without him. There were no true secrets in London society. Fortunately, the schedule was far sparser at this time of year than it would be come spring.
“Don’t you think your social obligations are something you should have talked to him about in person?”
“Not at all.” Evelyn shrugged in a blithe manner. “Besides, I liked the idea of sending him a schedule with our commitments for the next month.” She cast her friend a wicked smile. “It will make him wonder just how long I intend to be gone.”
“And you think that’s wise?”
“I think it’s brilliant.” In truth, she expected to be here no more than a few days before her husband insisted she return because he could not live without her. She refused to consider that he might not come to that realization.
Upon reflection, it did seem that he was not nearly as contrite as he should have been for not trusting her. As if his lack of trust wasn’t especially important. Nor had he done anything to stop her from leaving. Not that he would have been able to, but he hadn’t so much as protested. It was already early afternoon and she hadn’t heard a single word from him. She thought surely he would have begun a campaign to win her back by now. Flowers, jewelry, even a heartfelt note of continuing apology. But thus far, there was nothing at all. Had she made a dreadful mistake by leaving? It was all most distressing. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that it was better to know how little she meant to him after two years of marriage than after ten or twenty.
No. She dashed the thought from her head. She knew him as well as she knew herself. He did love her as she loved him. She couldn’t possibly be wrong about that. He was no doubt simply giving her time to come to her senses. Her jaw tightened. Soon enough he would realize that bringing her to her senses would take considerable effort on his part.
“Did you take care of your errands?”
Celeste nodded. She hadn’t volunteered exactly what her errands entailed nor had Evelyn asked her. Simply because they were living in the same house didn’t give Evelyn the right to pry into Celeste’s affairs. Celeste had always valued her privacy, and Evelyn valued her friendship too much to pry. Celeste would tell her what she wished her to know. That, obviously, was the difference between friendship and marriage. Evelyn would never doubt her friend’s loyalty nor would she ever distrust her.
“We need to talk,” Celeste said firmly and turned to address the others. “You there, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Wendell, Mr. Bryce.” The gentlemen turned their attention to Celeste at once, but then, Celeste had a most commanding manner when she wished. Part of which could certainly be attributed to her spectacles and the way she wore her hair. “I know you are all eager to return to your respective places of business, where I am certain you will each devise an excellent list of suggestions and proposals for Lady Waterston’s consideration.”
The men traded glances. Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, miss, but we understood Lady Waterston wished to proceed as quickly as possible.”
“And she does,” Celeste said. “However, I am certain that you understand as well, the refurbishing of an entire house cannot be accomplished without due consideration. As she is contemplating a considerable expenditure, I suspect you would not want her to make rash decisions that she might later regret.” She paused significantly. “While she would be more than willing to recommend to her vast number of friends and acquaintances work she is pleased with, I daresay she would similarly not fail to mention if she were to be disappointed.”
“No, no, of course not,” the three men murmured almost as one.
Evelyn resisted the urge to grin. Celeste was very good at this sort of thing.
“At this point, any final decisions on carpets or draperies or wallpaper is premature. Why, Lady Waterston has yet to decide on something as essential as which colors she prefers in which room.”
“I was thinking about crimson in here,” Evelyn murmured. “Or a deep rose perhaps ...”
“Such decisions, of course, will be contingent on what you present to her.” Celeste herded them toward the hall and nodded to the butler. “Hendricks, do gather whoever else is here and see them to the door.”
“As you wish, miss.” The butler nodded.
“And tell them Lady Waterston will be awaiting word from them as to their refurbishing ideas and concerns and, of course, the costs involved.”
“Of course, miss.”
Celeste cast the gentlemen her brightest smile. “I fully expect that we shall hear from you very soon.” With that, she ushered them through the parlor doors, closing them firmly behind the men.
“You do that very well,” Evelyn said in a wry manner.
“It’s my job.” She leveled Evelyn a firm look. “I consider a critical responsibility of my position to be protecting you from yourself. And I have no intention of shirking my duties.”
“Nonsense.” Evelyn laughed, pushed aside the wallpaper samples, and sank down on the sofa. “I don’t need protection. Not from myself and particularly not from merchants.”
“Not under ordinary circumstances perhaps, but right now, as your goal seems to be to inflict as much financial damage as you
can on Lord W’s accounts, someone needs to keep your head on your shoulders. Especially as your actions are predicated on anger and hurt.”
“Nonsense,” Evelyn said again, her voice weaker than before. “Redoing this house is long overdue.”
“Perhaps, although I have never noticed a problem.”
“I think it’s become somewhat worn.”
“I prefer the word comfortable.” Celeste glanced around the parlor. “I’m rather fond of it.”
“You deserve better.”
“About that.” Celeste picked up the wallpaper samples, placed them on a table, then returned to sit down beside Evelyn. “You have never allowed me to pay rent—”
“I consider this part of your salary.”
“And you pay the wages for the staff—”
“Come now, Celeste.” Evelyn scoffed. “There’s only Hendricks and Mrs. O’Mally, who is both housekeeper and cook, and one lone maid. It’s a meager excuse for a staff.”
“Nonetheless—”
“My husband is an eminently practical man, recent events notwithstanding.” Evelyn leaned toward her friend. “If you did not live here, he would no doubt press for me to sell this house as we certainly don’t need it. But this is the only thing I have left of my parents and I shall never sell it. As for the servants ...” She shook her head. “They consider this their home. I grew quite fond of them in the years when I resided here. You know how difficult it is to find a new position. I simply could not let them go.”
“Still, I should—”
“I do not wish to let this house to strangers as my guardian did nor do I wish for it to sit unoccupied.” Her gaze slid around the room. Even now, she wished she remembered this room, this house. But she scarcely remembered her parents let alone where they had lived. “There is something about an empty house that has always struck me as sad and forlorn. I would hate to think of this house as being alone and unloved. You, dear friend, are doing me a great favor by living here.”
“You have my thanks nonetheless.” Celeste studied her for a long moment. “In the spirit of our friendship, might I suggest you start with one room rather than create massive upheaval throughout the entire house? As you said, you don’t know how long you will be here.”
My Wicked Little Lies Page 14
