Page 83 of How to Ruin a Rake

As the carriage cleared the dense streets of Mayfair, Max turned his attention to his wife. She was studiously ignoring him and looking out of the window.

“I wish to apologize for my behavior last night.”

“That’s quite all right. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy.” She didn’t even look at him. “I can assure you that I won’t be doing so again.”

“We’re married. You’re the only woman who has the right to come into my bedroom.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

So, she’d decided to go on the attack. Max much preferred that to her ignoring him.

“Interrupt my sleep?”

She sniffed. “You know what I mean. Although, I believe that most rakes don’t bring their mistresses into their homes unless they are very stupid indeed.”

“Or if they are a duke,” Max said helpfully. “The Duchess of Devonshire had to put up with it.”

“Well, then perhaps you’ll have to wait until you inherit to install your mistress in your house.”

Max pretended to consider her comment. “My father is very hale and hearty. I suspect that by the time I become the duke, I’ll be too old for such matters.”

“A man is never too old to cheat on his wife.”

“So cynical and yet so young,” Max said. “One might think that your father was a rake. But we both know he’s the complete opposite.”

“My sister’s first husband was a gambling, womanizing horror of a man.”

“Smythe-Harding? Yes, he was very bad indeed,” Max agreed. “I believe he shot himself when he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Yes, after bleeding my sister’s finances dry,” Allegra said.

“I can assure you that I never gamble unless I can pay my debts. Also, your father made very sure that every penny of yours in the marriage contract can’t be touched by me.”

“So he told me,” Allegra said. “I suppose he learned a lesson after what happened to Carenza.” She looked out of the window again. “I wonder if it will rain?”

“At least we’re safe and dry and not stranded on the roadside with a wrecked carriage,” Max said. “I must admit that I’ll never take traveling in comfort for granted again.”

She offered him the barest hint of a smile, but at least she was talking again. They’d be stuck inside the carriage for at least two days, which gave him plenty of opportunities to goad her into being her usual honest self. Max still wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to achieve, which hampered him somewhat, but he could bear anything but silence. He’d grown up surrounded by every luxury imaginable but with parents who barely seemed to remember they had children.

“We’ll stop at Reading tonight,” Max said. “And we’ll change the horses before that, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to leave the carriage and stretch your legs.”

“Thank you.” Allegra patted her reticule. “I have several activities to occupy my time, so please don’t feel obliged to talk to me.”

“I like talking to you.”

She looked down at her hands. “Max, I’ve accepted your apology. There’s no need to try and charm me.”

Max frowned. “I’m not. I’m merely making conversation. Is that not allowed? Do you wish to sit here for hours on end without us speaking?”

“No, of course not. I simply meant that you don’t have to … pretend.”

“Pretend what, exactly?”

“That you truly are a devoted husband.” She finally looked up at him. “You have behaved impeccably all week, and I’m very grateful for your support, but there’s no need to continue the charade.”

Max let that sink in and tried not to feel hurt. “I see. Perhaps when you get a moment, you’d be kind enough to write me a list of all the permissible things you require in a husband.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed. “That’s not what I meant.”