Max returned to Sodom only to learn that the Scotsman had left. A few carefully directed questions and he was able to ferret out the man’s address. Shortly after that he was being escorted into Mackenzie’s well-appointed office by a bleary-eyed butler.
The man looked up from his desk. Several ledgers were spread before him. Apparently after a night at Sodom, he preferred to work. “Camden. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We need to talk about Aurelia.”
Mackenzie leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Oh?”
“Stay away from her.”
“Now why would I do that? My intentions are honorable . . . and I happen to know that Lady Aurelia is in the market for a husband.”
Max stopped before the desk. “That husband won’t be you.”
“And you intend to marry her, is that it?” At Max’s expression, he chuckled. “Oh, you should see your face.”
“I’m not interested in marrying her.”
He scratched his jaw. “Then I fail to understand what you are doing here.”
“She’s the sister of my best friend . . .”
“Then why is Lord Merlton not here?”
“He doesn’t know—”
“I’d wager there are a good many things Lord Merlton doesn’t know about his sister . . . and you.”
The words hung in the air, threatening. Max did not mistake the implication.
“There are other eligible girls,” Max said. “Move on to one of them.”
Mackenzie sighed and cocked his head like he was contemplating the suggestion. “Ah, I’m going to say . . . no. I like Aurelia.”
You can’t have her.
“What do you want?” Max growled, his fists curling and uncurling. He would like nothing more than to feed his fist to the arrogant bastard’s mouth.
Mackenzie settled his considerable bulk more fully into his chair and considered Max at length. “Unless you have a marriageable daughter or sister with appeal equal to Lady Aurelia, you have nothing I need, Lord Camden.” He waved his arms wide, encompassing the opulence of his office. “I’m a wealthy man, as you can see. I need very little of a material nature.”
“You have a price,” Max proclaimed with certainty, his hands tightening at his sides.
Some of the mirth faded from Mackenzie’s eyes. “I don’t know if I should be offended, but let me be clear. There is only one thing I would like and that is a blue-blooded wife to secure my position in Society.”
“And you’ve chosen Aurelia to be that wife?” He wondered what the man would think if he knew his prospective bride was the same person drawing satirical caricatures of the ton and leaving them all over Town. There were wagers in betting books as to the identity of the mystery artist. Aurelia was a breath from ruin at any given moment. Would Mackenzie be quite so certain she was the perfect blue-blooded wife if he knew?
“I like her well enough. So far.”
Max’s skin prickled with the conviction that Mackenzie would have a change of heart if he knew of Aurelia’s hobby. “You’d be surprised . . . you don’t know everything there is to know about Lady Aurelia.”
Mackenzie lifted an arrogant brow. “Oh? Do tell.”
He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. That would be one way to kill Mackenzie’s pursuit of Aurelia. Except he remembered her devastated expression when he tossed her scroll into the fire, and he knew that, for her, this would be far worse. She’d feel utterly betrayed if he revealed her secret. He couldn’t do it. Bloody hell. When had he started caring so much about her feelings?
Max didn’t agree with the risk that she was taking, but somewhere amid their arguing he finally understood. It was more than a hobby to her. It was a part of her and a calling, and as long as the world didn’t know she was behind the drawings she was utterly free to express herself with no fear of censure.
Except from me.
He had censured her, and suddenly he regretted that. He felt a little ill with the knowledge that he had destroyed something that was important to her.
He couldn’t reveal her secret to Mackenzie even if it meant saving her from the man.
“I’m just saying you don’t know each other very well.” He shrugged, attempting to defuse the implication that Aurelia had something to hide.
“I confess I’ve not made up my mind yet, but she is a tempting parcel. There is fire to her . . . as you undoubtedly know.” That eyebrow winged high again. “On that topic, how well do you know her, Camden?”
Max strode across the room and reached across the desk, grabbing Mackenzie by the edges of his jacket and yanking him halfway across the surface. “Have care how you speak of her. She is more than an tempting parcel. If you go near—”
The Scot laughed, seemingly unperturbed at being manhandled in his own home. Was there nothing that affected the bastard? He was cold, to be certain. “This is your brotherly concern, is it?” His eyes fastened on Max, hard as polished malachite. “She is but a lass. A tasty one, but I’ve not settled on her yet. As I’ve pointed out, I want position. If could buy a title, believe me, I would. It appears the closest I can get is marrying into a good family. The Earl of Merlton for a brother-in-law would be a nice prize.”
“You’ll not have Aurelia simply to lift your rank.” He flung Mackenzie back in his chair. “She’s worth more than that.”
She deserved more than that.
The idea came to him suddenly. Before he could fathom it or wonder at the origin of such a sentiment.
Mackenzie resettled his weight in his chair, smoothing a hand over the front of his jacket, and then corrected his mussed cravat. He did not reply for some time. He simply stared at Max as he traced the rim of the glass sitting on his desk with idle fingers. “I didna think you have any control over the matter. I’ve spoken with Aurelia and she would fit nicely into my plans. She has plans of her own, you see.”
“What do you know of her plans?” Max demanded, unaccountably angry with her for sharing anything of herself, including her thoughts, with this arrogant ass.
“She has no wish to rusticate in Scotland with her mother and doddering aunt. I know that much. I know she is amenable to the idea of marriage and not opposed to my courtship.”
She had shared all of that with him? His stomach cramped, imagining her in Mackenzie’s bed. Imaging this man’s hands on her, his mouth exploring her as he himself had only ever dreamed.
Hell no.
“It appears we are at a crossroads,” Mackenzie said. “I require a wife. Aurelia is amenable.” He lifted his glass. “May the best man win.”
“You don’t have her yet,” Max snarled.
Mackenzie shrugged. “You don’t want me to have her?” He rubbed his bottom lip before lifting his hand in a mild waving, gesture at Max. “Interesting. What shall we do about this situation?”
“I’m requesting that you leave her alone.” He inhaled sharply through his nose, disliking asking this man for anything, though he knew he had to try.
All at once Mackenzie didn’t appear so relaxed. He leaned forward, setting his drink down, his dark eyes alert as a hawk closing in on prey. “Are you asking me a favor, Lord Camden?”
Max swallowed against the bitter taste rising up in his throat and gave a hard nod. “Yes.”
“Now that’s an enticement, Viscount Camden indebted to me. I’m a man who values favors.”
“You want position. I can help you achieve that. I have the connections. Important friends.”
“That could be . . . useful. That might be the price I require.” Mackenzie nodded slowly. “Yes. You do.” He rose then and moved from around his desk, extending his hand to Max. “I accept your offer. You have my word, Camden. I’ll leave your Lady Aurelia alone. In exchange for a future favor.”
The words She’s not mine hovered on his lips, but he could not bring himself to say them. Not to this man. Not with the hot feeling of possession pumping through him.
He looked down at the Scot’s proffered hand as though it belonged to the devil himself. It certainly felt as though he were entering into an unholy pact. And yet there was no alternative. “Agreed.”
After shaking Mackenzie’s hand, Max turned and moved to the door.
“Camden,” the Scotsman called out.
Max stopped and turned back to face the blackguard, arching an eyebrow.
“A word of advice?”
“What’s that?” he asked warily.
“There is one way to keep the chit out of trouble, you know.”
Max stared, waiting for him to elaborate.
“You could just marry her yourself.”
He stared at Mackenzie a long moment, those words sinking in before he turned and departed the house.