Until over coffee—or, in the case of the duke, kirsch—the duchess suddenly said, “I’ve had Frau Bittner make up a room for you, Daniela. She can show you to it whenever you’re ready.”
“Daniela is staying with me at the cottage,” Max said quickly, saving Dani from having to answer.
“Nonsense,” Max’s mother said. “She’s a guest at the estate. She’ll stay in a proper guest room, not in the drafty old dower house. And I’ve asked Frau Bittner to arrange a tour for her tomorrow since you’ll be busy with our other guests.”
“I’ve made the cottage attic into a bedroom,” Max said to his mother, before turning to the von Bachenheims. “And I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I’m otherwise engaged tomorrow.”
“You’re housing your guest in an attic,” the duchess said sharply. Interesting how they could be rude to Dani, but when it was convenient they were suddenly worried about etiquette.
“I am, and I assure you it’s been quite overhauled. She’s writing a book, and she needs solitude and quiet. And I’m swamped with my own work and have a meeting I can’t reschedule.”
The duchess pursed her lips, and the duke outright laughed. What an absolute bastard. “Are you now? What kind of ‘work’ might that be?” The duke caught Mr. von Bachenheim’s eye and smiled as if the two old men were in cahoots.
“Actually—” Sebastien said, but he stopped talking when Max shot him a quelling look.
“I think it’s best discussed later,” Max said with what looked superficially like calm, though Dani knew it belied roiling emotions.
The duke sneered and looked like he was about to say more, but the duchess turned to him and seemed to silently communicate something that made him sniff and look away as if in surrender. Dani wondered if the duke and duchess were on “good behavior” because of the von Bachenheims. It was hard to fathom this icy snootiness as “good” behavior, but given some of the stories Max had told, it seemed possible.
Apparently satisfied that she had her husband under control, the duchess expelled a dainty sigh and turned her attention to Dani. “Daniela, I am sure you can understand that my husband and I have high hopes for our children, yes?”
Dani knew this was a trap, but what could she do but nod?
“Therefore I am sure you will understand that sometimes we as parents have to steer our children away from certain . . . projects that aren’t a good use of their particular . . . talents.”
“Mother,” Sebastien scolded his mother. And, oh, he pushed back his chair and stood. “Please.”
Dani was surprised. She expected Max to defend her, as he seemed to be spoiling for a fight, but to hear it told, Sebastien’s usual approach to family strife was to try to keep the peace. She looked at Max, who, judging by his raised eyebrows, was also taken off guard by Sebastien’s outburst.
“Please, what?” the duke asked, sneering at Sebastien, who now seemed unsure how to proceed. “Is your mother offending your tender sensibilities, boy?”
“I . . .” It seemed like Sebastien’s outburst had been impulsive and uncharacteristic enough that he had backed himself into a corner. He didn’t know what to say next.
Max did, though. “Sebastien,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention along with his brother’s, and oh. Max was angry. Not that she’d really ever seen him angry, but it was easy to tell. His normally relaxed posture had grown hard. His face was hard, too, like someone had battened down a pair of shutters that usually stood open to let the sun in. Ironically, he was going to make a good duke someday, with his ability to express extreme emotions with small, restrained adjustments to his body and face. “Sebastien,” he said again. “Daniela and I are finished dining, but I need to have a word with Frau Bittner on my way out.” He sounded a little like his father, oddly, each word carefully enunciated and gilded with ice. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to escort Daniela back to the cottage.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Max!”
Max groaned as he stopped walking. He was almost free. But of course it was not to be.
It was Lavinia, which was an unexpected turn of events, emerging from around the corner after Max finished informing Frau Bittner that Dani was his guest and that as such, he would apprise the staff of any arrangements that were required. He disliked putting her in an awkward position, but he wasn’t letting his mother’s vile little domestic coup go unchecked.
“Max.” Lavinia was breathless as she hurried to his side. She had to have been lying in wait to intercept him like this. God. He just wanted to get out of there.
“I’m sorry about all that,” he said, gesturing vaguely back toward the dining room.
“No, I’m sorry,” Lavinia said. “I had no idea you didn’t know we were coming. I’m mortified.”
He softened. “It’s not your fault.” Lavinia might not be the woman for him, but she didn’t seem the conniving sort. He’d expected her to be more like her social-climbing sister, Lucrecia, but she’d done them a good turn back at dinner, expressing enthusiastic interest in Dani’s work. He didn’t know if it’d been a calculated good turn or if she’d been genuinely interested in talking to Dani about literature. Either way, she’d defused the situation. For a while.
“I must speak with you.” She hitched her head back toward the dining room. “They’re still in there. Can we go somewhere else?”
He stifled a sigh. He wanted to get back to Dani, not talk to Lavinia. But none of this was Lavinia’s fault. “Of course.” He led her to a small parlor he deemed sufficiently far from the dining room and closed the door. “They won’t miss you at dinner?”
“I pled a headache after you left.” She winced. “Which probably isn’t helping your cause. Now they’re going to think I had my tender feelings hurt.”
“My cause?”
She didn’t answer his question, just stared at him long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, for lack of knowing what to say.
Again, she ignored his question, but she did start talking. “My father told me you were . . . interested in me,” she went on. “I’m embarrassed that I barely gave you the time of day in New York. I was distracted, and I’ll be honest, given what I’d heard, you didn’t seem . . .”
“Like the kind of person you’d be interested in shackling yourself to for life?”
She smiled a sad little smile. “Something like that. But then when my father started pushing this visit, I googled you and found your master’s thesis. I read it.”
“You did?” He had not been impressed by Lavinia in New York, but he supposed he’d been distracted, too. He’d been thinking about Dani, wondering how she would react if he texted her.
“I did. I thought it was so interesting. And then I started thinking about how you used to be engaged to Marie, and I like Marie so much and think so highly of her. So I thought . . .” She sighed. “I thought it couldn’t hurt to meet you. It’s so difficult, you see, when one is . . .”