His Lady in Breeches

X. Husbands and Wives

Maxine was frozen in shock.

Maxwell Everard's gaze was not simply furious, but knowing all the same.

Did he know? Did he see through her disguise?

"I am merely a man lucky enough to be employed by your brother, milord," she managed to utter without a stutter. The panic she had felt seconds ago seemed to have given way to a much needed faculty—survival. "Whyever would you think otherwise?" she added, pulling her hand away from his strong hold.

He let her go, emerald green eyes nearly black with unspoken fury and confusion. It was then that Maxine realized the man was merely provoking her—taunting her to satisfy his curiosities. She might have done something wrong to have caused him to suspect her and she vowed to correct that.

"You may have managed to fool everyone, valet," Maxwell Everard spoke, voice filled with warning, "but not I. I have seen many valets in my life and you do not compare to any of them."

Maxine stepped away, lifting her chin. "Mayhap I am not like most valets, milord, thus the reason why your brother took me under his employ," she uttered with pride.

He merely narrowed his eyes. "One fair warning, lad," he uttered, falling back into the bed, "you do not mess with my family."

Maxine's jaw tightened. "I would not dream of it, milord," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Good night, milord." She tried her best to nonchalantly turn and walk to the door.

To her great relief, Maxwell Everard did not stop her.

Her heart started to hammer against her chest as she rushed back to her room. Albin was already inside. The man frowned upon seeing her face.

"Bloody hell, Max, what did the bastard do to you?"

"Nothin'," she murmured, kicking off her shoes. She went under the covers and faked a yawn. "Good night, Albin. See you on the morrow."

But while Albin resumed his sleep, Maxine stayed wide awake in bed.

She ought to get out of Wickhurst soon.

This was foolish. She must not have come here. Lord Wakefield was here, the very same man who could identify her and blow her cover. She must not wait until Ysabella Everard would come and find her, or worse, Samuel to walk through the doors and discover her here.

*****

There must be a good reason why Nicholas was in a very good mood the following morning. He was humming while he shaved and Maxine could not help but smile and wonder as she held the mirror for him. Why was he happy?

"I am in a rather great mood today, Max," he said after he rinsed and as Maxine handed him the towel.

"I have noticed, milord," she said with a smile.

"Do you know why?" he asked, turning to face her, emerald green eyes glimmering with mirth.

"No, milord, I am afraid I do not."

"Ah," he uttered, throwing the towel to the side. Maxine rushed to pick it up, shaking the image of his handsome, clean face off her mind. "Of course you do not know." He went to pick up a cravat, took a good look at it and shook his head. "Mind not," he said, "I do not need one today. What I need is to be downstairs before the commotion starts."

"The commotion, milord?" Maxine asked, baffled.

"Why, of course! The reason why I am ecstatic!"

"You are quite excited for a commotion?"

"Yes," he said, rushing to the door. "You shall find out soon enough."