‘I never asked you to pack it.’
‘No, of course you didn’t, because that would have involved you making a commitment and we don’t do that, do we? You would much prefer to moan when I haven’t brought enough food when you inevitably turn up and still eat more than your fair share.’
Something he couldn’t deny.
‘Eleanor told me about Miranda.’
‘I’ll wager she did.’ And doubtless rendered him a pathetic, maligned and helpless victim in the process, damn her, when the last person he wanted to be pathetic for was Effie. Even if he was.
‘I think it is only fair, before this conversation progresses any further, that I state here and now I already despise her and think you are probably much better off without her.’ Max braced himself for the inevitable platitudes and pity. ‘Not that I expect you to see that, you silly man. You’re not the least bit ready to see sense yet and I am sure you are much preferring your romantically martyred view of it all.’
‘Martyred?’ That brought him up short.‘Martyred?’
‘When used as an adjective it means to act in a manner showing affected or exaggerated suffering to evoke sympathy.’
‘I know what it means, Miss Nobody-asked-your-opinion. And you are wrong. I seek nobody’s sympathy!’ The very suggestion was—
‘I am not wrong and you know it.’
‘You have no right to...’ One shapely leg swung over the sill. ‘No! Stop...’ He stood, outraged, his finger pointed like a weapon, feeling much like King Cnut must have felt when faced with the incoming tide, but still in denial it might roll in. ‘I forbid you to climb through that window!’
‘Oops.’ She shrugged and then grinned as her feet hit the parquet. ‘If only you’d bought those dogs you’d threatened, eh, Max? Then you could set them on me for my gross impertinence. Or is this technically trespass?’
He was positively looming over his desk, incensed, but typically his anger did not faze her at all. She sat herself on top of it, uncowed, and stared at him levelly. ‘But let’s not digress from the topic at hand. We were discussing your martyrdom and how you are absolutely convinced that the lily-livered turncoat Miranda you proposed to is so much better off without you now you carry a few scars that you prefer to punish yourself for getting them rather than be furious at her for not loving you enough for them not to matter. That’s the long and short of it, isn’t it?’
She hadn’t loved him enough. He knew that. He’d always known that. Yet he had loved her enough for both of them and her rejection and her revulsion had destroyed all that had remained of his self-esteem in one fell swoop. ‘Get out, Effie, or I swear to God I will throw you out!’
‘She wanted someone titled, rich and handsome. The dashing naval hero and sought-after bachelor she could boast about. And now that your accident has left you merely titled and rich you simply do not pass muster any longer. Her rejection broke your heart and spurred you into becoming a recluse...’
‘I’m warning you, Effie...’
‘And because wallowing in your own self-pity has become quite the habit, you use every little excuse which comes along to justify being a selfish, self-indulgent pain in the neck to everyone who cares about you.’ She jabbed him hard in the breastbone with her finger. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself, Maximillian Aldersley. Your poor sister is beside herself and worried sick.’
‘My sister has—’
‘Your sister has done nothing but be at your side for eighteen long months. Come hell or high water. She has sacrificed her time, her family and I dare say her sanity trying to selflessly drag you kicking and screaming back into the land of the living and she deserves better than this. And so, you near-sighted, stubborn idiot, do you!’
‘Coming from the woman who settled for an old man rather than wait for the groom she deserved!’ A low blow, but he was floundering. He had expected empty platitudes and unpalatable pity, not an argument stripped bare of both. An irritatingly sound one. Damn her!
‘A fair point. But I had to consider practicalities which you do not.’
‘Practicalities?’
‘The world is not an easy place for a woman on her own. Rupert could offer me a more secure future than I would have had as a spinster all on her own and accepted me for what I am. He was not going to try to change me and, believe me, I have tried changing umpteen times and always failed miserably so that was a huge weight off my mind. I entered into the agreement with my eyes wide open. I knew it wasn’t love and so did Rupert. But you thought yours was all about love, and for you perhaps it was, but it wasn’t for her and seeing as she has been married to someone else for an entire year now, it is past time to accept it and move on.’
‘Move on?’ As if it was that simple!
‘Are you intent on repeating everything I say, Max? Because I am already finding it tiresome.’ She was worse than a bane. Certainly the most maddening woman he had ever had the misfortune to lust after. ‘Yes... Move on. Your wounds have healed and, by your own admission, you aren’t in physical pain any longer. It is time to let your soul heal, too.’
‘Are you an expert on the human soul now as well? Are you going to quote me learned studies? Statistics, perhaps?’
‘I am an expert on what your own mind can do to you when it gets bored.“Idle hands are the Devil’s tools.”’
‘Good grief, are you seriously resorting to quoting the Bible at me? Is that the best you have, Miss Ninnyhammer?’
‘It is Chaucer, actually, I believe. If you are going to take issue with the attribution, at least get it right.’ She shot him the saucy smug smile she always wore when she was being insufferably smart, then it softened and she sighed. ‘With nothing external to occupy it other than grief or self-pity, the human mind will turn inwards and that is a dangerously slippery slope. Trust me—I know. My mind sends me mad unless it has purpose so I do whatever I can to keep it meaningfully occupied.’
‘You dig. Even though nobody cares what you dig up.’ He was irritating himself now with the well-aimed but churlish darts.
