When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(51)

“Of course you were. I knew it was only a matter of time before you found this place. I’m going to have it torn down, if I have to do it with my own hands.”

Lysette glanced around the room, suddenly anxious to leave the ramshackle house and the ugly memories it held for her husband. “Max, take me home. Please.”

Max didn’t seem even to have heard her. “Come,” she urged, beginning to step away from him. Suddenly he startled her by seizing her, burying his face in her hair, pulling her close until her toes left the ground. A shudder wracked his body. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he asked raggedly. “You have to have doubts…. I’m still a stranger to you. You can’t be certain that I’m innocent. Sometimes I don’t even believe—”

“Hush, not another word,” she whispered, turning her mouth to his. “I know you. I know exactly what kind of man you are.”

Max let her kiss him for just a moment, then pulled back, clearly not wanting to share an intimate moment with her in this place. “Let’s leave,” he muttered, taking her arm.

———

Seeing how troubled and quiet Max was for the rest of the day, Lysette regretted her visit to the overseer’s house. She would never have intentionally caused him such distress. Although Max kept to himself, working in the library for the rest of the afternoon, his dark mood seemed to have infiltrated the rest of the house, the atmosphere becoming quiet and uneasy. However, no one mentioned a word to Lysette… until Bernard cornered her after dinner. They happened to pass in the hallway, as Bernard headed to the small guest house where he resided. Glancing from left to right to make certain they would not be overheard, Bernard spoke to her in a cutting voice.

“I’ll say this once, Lysette, not only for your sake but for Max’s. Rid yourself of this curiosity you have about Corinne. It is dangerous, do you understand? Leave the past alone— or it will come back to ruin you.”

She was too astonished to reply.

After staring at her with dark eyes that for the first time held an expression of dislike, Bernard strode away.

Chapter 10

“Another letter to your mother?” Max inquired, coming to the tiny satinwood table where Lysette sat.

“I can’t find the right words,” Lysette grumbled, indicating several crumpled sheets of parchment.

Max smiled as he noted that her personal writing table and matching clawfoot chair had been mysteriously moved from her bedchamber to his. It was yet another sign of the feminine invasion that seemed to be taking place.

Wryly he supposed he should be grateful for the considerable size of his room. Despite their agreement to keep separate bedrooms, Lysette had moved more and more of her possessions into his territory. Every day he discovered new articles strewn over his dresser and bedside table. There were bottles of scent and boxes of powder, fans and gloves and flowered hair ornaments, pins and combs, stockings, garters, and laces.

When Max retired in the evenings, he found Lysette in his bed, contrary to the Creole custom that a wife should remain in her own bed and allow the husband the choice of visiting her. He didn’t dare say a word to her about it, however. Not only did he want to avoid hurting her feelings, but in a strange way, he liked the situation.

After years of isolation and loneliness, he found himself enjoying the companionship that Lysette offered him, and the attention she lavished on him. He would have expected the sudden lack of privacy to be difficult, but it did not annoy him. And there were distinct benefits to having Lysette so close at hand. He had an unlimited view of her bathing, tending her hair, dressing… and undressing. He enjoyed watching the rituals of a wife’s toilette, the sight of Lysette trying on earrings, braiding her hair, unrolling her stockings, applying perfume behind her ears.

Returning his attention to the matter at hand, Max braced his arms on either side of her and leaned over the table, reading the unfinished letter.

“Neither Maman nor Jacqueline answered the first letters that I wrote,” Lysette told him. “Perhaps Gaspard won’t let Maman write to me. Perhaps he won’t even allow her to receive anything from me… but I did expect some sort of a reply from Jacqueline!”

Max brushed his lips over the top of her head. “Give them time. It has been merely a month since the wedding. And you did marry one of the more notable scoundrels of New Orleans.”

“You’re too modest, mon mari. As a scoundrel, you have no peer.”

He grinned and tilted her chair back in revenge, causing her to gasp with surprised laughter. She clutched at his arms. “Max!”

“Relax, sweet… I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“Max, behave yourself!”

Slowly the chair was raised to its original position, and she jumped to her feet with a wary smile.

Holding her gaze, Max advanced to the desk and crumpled her letter in one hand.

Lysette’s mouth fell open. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t like it,” he said without remorse. “I won’t have you begging and pleading for their favor.”

She glared at him wrathfully. “I’ll write whatever I wish to my mother.”

Max scowled back at her, and then looked away, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean to be arrogant. But I don’t want anyone to hurt your feelings. Especially your own family.”