Page 22 of How to Ruin a Rake

“Thank you, Daisy,” Lady Allegra said. “And please thank your mother for an excellent meal.”

“I will, miss.” Daisy curtsied. “Dad says you can have the gig at noon tomorrow after Ma gets back from the market, if that suits you.”

“That would be most appreciated,” Max said as he poured himself a generous measure of brandy and eyed the custard tart with great anticipation.

Daisy left, and Max took a long slug of brandy and sighed with appreciation. “I don’t want to know where Mr. Gunner gets his brandy, but this is damned good.” He finished the glass and immediately poured himself another one.

“Do you always drink so much?” Lady Allegra asked.

Max gave her the eye. “Says someone who just polished off the majority of a bottle of wine.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Perhaps I needed the brandy because you hogged all the wine.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he enjoyed needling her so much, but her gathering indignation and outrageous set downs were somehow delightful.

“Are you suggesting I’m inebriated?” Lady Allegra asked.

“I don’t know how you behave when you’re drunk. Do you rip your clothes off and run around naked, or are you one of those quiet drunks who weeps bitterly in the corner?”

She sat up straight. “I have never been drunk in my life!”

“You should try it one day,” Max advised. “It can be quite liberating.”

“Only for those who seek to escape the reality of their existence.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“I believe it is better to face your problems and deal with them rather than wishing them away in drunkenness.”

“And what would you know about problems?” Max asked. “You’re a wealthy, titled woman living an existence of privilege.”

She sucked in a breath. “Yes, I am lucky enough to have wealth, but my family is not considered respectable; my sister has just made everything worse, and I am stuck with the prospect of never getting married because of things that aren’t in my control. Why do you think I am going back to Norfolk in the middle of the Season?”

He studied her carefully. He hadn’t known she was leaving town because, in truth, he hadn’t been thinking of anything except winning the wager and abducting her sister. An unfamiliar sense of guilt washed over him.

Before he could attempt a reply, Lady Allegra continued speaking.

“But you are right. I do have little to complain about.” Her voice wobbled. “I have a family who loves me, my sister is about to marry the man she adores, and I will never have to worry about being poor or homeless, because I will always have things provided for me.”

To his absolute horror, she burst into tears. He shot to his feet and went to come around the table, but she shooed him away and vigorously used her handkerchief to dry her cheeks.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and faced him. “I do apologize. I must be overtired.” She rose to her feet. “I think I’ll retire. Goodnight, my lord.”

Max stood, too, his gaze fixed on her resolute face, and cursed the fact that he had no idea how to help or reassure her. “Good night.” He bowed.

She left, and he sat down and automatically reached for the brandy, his hand stilling at the last moment. He’d never thought to see her show such emotion, especially to him, and what in God’s name was he supposed to say? As far as he understood it, for most women marriage was their primary focus, and Lady Allegra was being denied that opportunity because of the behavior of others.

Max succumbed to his desire for brandy and filled his glass. She hadn’t wanted his sympathy—that was obvious—so what else could he have offered her?

Nothing. Because he’d never experienced real hardship before in his life.

Max drained his glass and immediately refilled it.

There was a tap on the door, and Daisy came in. “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

He found a smile somewhere. “No, thank you.”