Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(35)

He pointed a finger in Mallen’s direction. “I think this would be a good time for us to discuss in more detail the plans for Miss Winters.”

A vein pulsed in Mallen’s neck, the only outward indication of his annoyance with Christopher’s high-handedness. “Out with it, Waxham,” he said in clipped tones.

Christopher nodded and proceeded to tick his orders off upon his fingers. “There is to be no flowers. No poems. No clandestine meetings.”

“Clandestine meetings?”

Christopher continued as though Mallen hadn’t spoken. “No making the lady laugh. No…reading to her.” He stumbled over that part.

“Have you finished?”

Christopher went through the list he’d compiled throughout the day in his mind. He frowned. It had seemed far more comprehensive several hours ago. He blamed alcohol for his muddled thoughts. “No pastries or treats.” Sophie loved pastries. If Mallen courted her with confectionaries, well her heart would probably forever belong to the other man.

“I suppose escorting the young lady to Sunday sermons would be acceptable?” Mallen drawled.

“Lovely idea.” Christopher agreed with an empathic nod.

Mallen’s gaze narrowed. “I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.”

“Now have you finished?” Mallen settled his palms upon his desk. “Do you know what I think, Waxham?”

“No.” Nor did Christopher care.

“I believe you crafted this scheme to maintain your freedom but are now questioning your way in going about it. I believe you care a good deal about Miss Winters,” he held up a hand when Christopher opened his mouth to speak, “whether you’ll admit it to yourself or not. After all, you’ve known the young lady since she was practically in the nursery.”

Actually, she had been in the nursery. He’d been quite put out at having to pay the Viscount Redbrooke’s newborn daughter a visit and still remembered studying the plump, red-faced baby held in her mother’s arms. She’d had the most god-awful caterwaul of a cry which oddly had stopped when her glassy, baby-gaze had landed upon him.

Mallen continued, not detecting the path Christopher’s thoughts had wandered down. “You feel protective of her, Waxham. It is clear you have a sense of obligation toward her. So my suggestion to you is end this mad scheme, do your familial duty by the girl and wed her…and for the love of God, leave me out of any foolish plot where you and Miss Winters are concerned.”

Christopher raked a hand through his hair. “No.”

Mallen sighed. “I suspected you would say that. Very well, then I’ll continue to court Miss Winters as I deem appropriate. Now if you’ll excuse me. It is late and I am taking Miss Winters for a walk in Hyde Park later this morning.”

A haze of red blinded Christopher. His nostrils flared. Then, the knowing grin on Mallen’s face registered. Well, bugger him. His friend merely sought to get a rise out of him.

Christopher forced a smile. “Splendid.” After all, a walk in Hyde Park had not been on Christopher’s list of outings Mallen was to avoid with Sophie. Yet, it didn’t feel like any kind of victory. Quite the opposite. “Good evening, Mallen.”

“Good evening, Waxham.”

With a bow, Christopher beat a hasty retreat. He started on his way home, choosing to walk the short remaining distance to his townhouse. It allowed him to consider the somber, brooding thoughts that thrummed a dark chord inside him.

Unlike Mallen who possessed a loving, supportive family, Christopher had lived a remarkably solitary life. There’d been no proud father, or loving mother. There’d been no younger siblings to care for, or older siblings to torment.

His gaze locked on the sliver of moon that hung in the sky. Mallen was the closest thing to family Christopher had. That friendship had been one of the forces that compelled him to court Emmaline.

Lady Emmaline with her sharp wit and overall good heart represented a connection to everything he longed for—a family.

Christopher strongly suspected that if he asked Mallen to delve into the fiery depths of hell for him, Mallen in his loyalty would inquire how far he needed to dive.

Except, at this moment, the last thing he felt toward Mallen was anything remotely friendly. The logical part of Christopher recognized that Mallen’s visit with Sophie had merely been to demonstrate the flaws in Christopher’s plan.

But then, ugly, insidious thoughts filtered through Christopher’s mind. Mallen kissing Sophie. Mallen exploring each generous curve of her sweetly rounded figure. Mallen parting her creamy, white thighs and… All logical thought escaped him, replaced by a black, icy rage that clouded Christopher’s vision.

God, how he resented Mallen for having snared Sophie’s interest, and for being correct. No young lady deserved to be the recipient of a false courtship.

Yet, as reprehensible as his actions were, Christopher was still protecting Sophie from his father’s grasping attempt at her dowry.

Christopher swiped a hand over his eyes. Even if his duplicitous actions benefited both him and the young lady, it did not assuage his sense of guilt.

At last he arrived home.

He needed to sleep. He was certain that come morning, all this nonsensical drivel distracting him would be sorted out.

Yes, come tomorrow he wouldn’t care quite so much about Mallen’s pretend courtship of Sophie or the captivated way in which she’d gazed at the duke or the fact that Mallen had winked at her in that intimate way two times or…