Page 67 of Winter's Waltz
Chapter 12
“Please tell me you have not returned to gambling,” said Max’s sister, Addy, the moment his arse hit the cushion of the gilded settee in her Mayfair salon.
What was it about all the females he loved having no bloody faith in him?
Max scowled. “I told you, I have cut loose the bonds of my past. I am a new man now.”
And he had indeed felt like one that morning when he had awoken with the miracle of the woman he loved in his arms and her beloved hound at his feet. But that happiness had been hastily dashed by Gen’s refusal of his offer for her. Now, he did not know whether to be furious or defeated or determined. After she had ordered him from her Lady Fortune, he had decided to settle for the latter.
Which was why he was here.
Addy had always been the shy, quiet wallflower to her twin sister Evie, and she had always been the twin to whom Max was closest, though he loved Evie equally. Still, it was the bond they shared which had brought Max here to Addy’s home—though Evie lived next door with her husband, Devil Winter.
“You do not look like a new man,” Addy observed, concern lining her countenance. “Forgive me, brother, but you look dreadful.”
“There is good reason for that, and it has naught to do with gaming or losing funds,” he said, before taking a deep breath and getting to the reason for his call. “It is because I have proposed marriage.”
“Marriage?” Addy gaped. “When? And who is the fortunate lady? Pray do not say our father has forced you into offering for a lady who is not your choice.”
He blinked. “This morning. The lady is your husband’s sister, Miss Genevieve Winter, and she is the only choice I will ever have, our father be damned. I love her.”
“You are wedding Gen?” his sister asked, as if the notion was akin to his announcing he was going to attempt to swim the length of the River Thames.
“The lady has refused my offer.” His admission was reluctant and offered not without accompanying bitterness.
“Oh dear.” If possible, Addy looked even more dismayed. “Did she give a reason for her refusal?”
“Something about her being born on the wrong side of the blanket, wearing trousers, and owning a gaming hell in the East End, I believe,” he drawled.
“Yes.” Addy winced. “There is all that.”
“And I do not care about any of it.” His hands clenched into impotent fists on his knees. “All I want is to marry the woman I love.”
“Yet she has denied you.”
He arched a brow. “Thank you for the reminder, unnecessary though it may be.”
“What I meant by that observation is that she has reasons, reasons which she has given you for the rejection. Reasons that are not irrational. You will be the Duke of Linross.”
“I wish to God that it were not so,” he bit out, meaning those words with every part of his being.
“You cannot change who you are,” Addy said.
“No.” He hung his head, raked his fingers through his hair. “I cannot. But surely there must be some way I can change the lady’s mind.”
He had been tormenting himself with the possibilities ever since he had left Lady Fortune. But every idea which came to him had a weakness that had proved its undoing.
“Have you told her you love her?” his sister asked gently.
“Of course I have.”
“Have you said you are willing to take the risk of society turning a damning eye upon you and closing its doors?” she prodded.
“Yes, curse it all. And still, she has refused me.”
“Have you asked her to cease operating her gaming hell?”
“No.” Though now that he thought upon it, he did not recall directly relaying that to her. “She thinks there is no place for her in my world.”
