Free Compromised by Christmas by Katy Madison Page B

away?
    Scully approached him with a smirk on his face.
"Shall we finish our game?"
    "I forfeit."
    "The game?" asked Scully with that infuriating lift
of a single eyebrow.
    "What else?"
    Scully grinned, but did not reply, which was probably
wise of him.
    "Did Breedon . . . ?" Max gestured toward the kissing
bower.
    "Walked him to his room, warned him that you were
taking your duties toward your guest seriously and expect him to be
above board in all his treatment of her. He is oblivious to
your waylaying Miss Winston."
    Max did not know if that relieved him or not.
    Scully studied him. "That is what you meant to say to
him, isn't it? Far too soon to demand to know his intentions."
    Max did not think he could bear the scrutiny at the
moment. He did not understand why he failed to toe the line.
Perhaps it was because the minute he touched Roxana he had thought
of her most improper undergarments. Or that he had not slept with a
woman in months, or just that she was under his protection . . .
but not under his protection in the way that gave him the right to
take indecent liberties. What was wrong with him? He never violated
the rules of proper behavior.
    He could not think of that, and he should not have
seen her so revealed and unaware.
    Max raked a hand through his hair. "We should get
ready for this evening."
    "Or have a drink," suggested Scully.
    That sounded like a splendid idea. A drink might cool
the heat in his blood. Max strode toward the stairs.
    Roxana was just a lovely girl, young woman, young
lady. Max could not even think straight. So fresh and sweet, the
imprint of her body flooded his mind.
    "You are a better catch than Breedon," offered Scully
slyly.
    "Do not finish that thought," warned Max in a tone
that he knew Scully would not contest. "I could not afford a wife
even if I wanted one."
    Max would keep his distance this evening through
dinner. "You keep an eye on her the rest of the day, and for God's
sake do not let her be alone with me."
    *~*~*
    Roxana smoothed her hands down her dress and wondered
if she had made a mistake. Lady Malmsbury's dismissal of Battenburg
lace had probably influenced her decision on a dress to wear for
dinner. That and she hadn't really been thinking straight after
that kiss from Max. Or she needed to wear a dress that made her
feel powerful.
    She had made the dress from table linens and sewn it
in a harlequin pattern, mostly because she had to work around the
stains and had not had enough of either tablecloth to do a complete
dress. A thin strip of gold piping ran down the seams between the
alternating diamonds of bright white and butterscotch. Instead of
gathers she had sewn gores into the waist of the skirt. While it
had a high bodice, the dress fit more closely than the loose empire
gowns most of the other women wore.
    The normally circumspect footman hesitated before
opening the drawing room door. She felt like running, but the
footman was hardly frowning.
    He opened the door and she turned to look at him
inquiringly before he shut the door after her small train cleared
the entry.
    She had sewn on it for days, and she wondered as she
looked around if it was too innovative, too different, too admired
by Mrs. Porter and her girls. What on earth had possessed her to
rely on the advice of a pack of Paphians?
    The duke turned from across the room, glanced her way
and then looked again. She saw him swallow, his cravat shifting
with the motion. His eyes moved down her from her slashed sleeves
to her midsection and seemed to linger on her hips. Roxana looked
for a place to sit, steeling herself against the idea of running
away. She would be under a table most of the rest of the evening
and she wished she was there now.
    Lady Angela approached and Roxana nearly sagged with
relief.
    "You continue to amaze us," said Scully, tugging her
elbow and pulling her away from the door. "You look stunning, Miss
Winston."
    Miss Lambert hung behind Lady Angela and peeped over
her shoulder.
    "Bit of