Page 23 of Miss Ellis Unleashed

He’d been out with his friends most nights, trying to resurrect his interest in his old life and old haunts, without much success. All he needed at home was somewhere to sleep, water to wash in and shave with, and clean clothes. Food, such as it was, could be found elsewhere.

Now, he was trying hard to avoid thinking of what a future as an heir presumptive would entail. It would not be the pleasant, quiet life he’d hoped for.

Max hadn’t visited his mother’s family in a decade. The duke and that side of the family were difficult people, but he would have to put in an appearance at the ducal estate soon. The duke was a sour and taciturn man. Disappointed with everyone and everything. Max would face an inquisition and hear demands that he marry and get himself an heir.

His mood threatened to sour further at the thought.

Eventually, the act of shoveling food into his mouth and sipping strong, sweet coffee defeated his depression. He was determined to enjoy the novelty of an exquisite meal prepared just for him and what remained of a day under this roof.

He would not think about his late cousin anymore, making a marriage, or the weeping widow and children waiting for him to take charge of them all until he had to. They were under the duke’s roof and, therefore, well cared for at present.

Max could pretend he was still a carefree bachelor for a little while longer, and then face up to his responsibilities with a clearer head later.

Just like he had when he’d learned of Daisy.

He glanced behind him at the closed door to the drawing room and heard nothing beyond. Daisy had left him to recover in peace, and he appreciated being spared a lecture about his conduct, though he was curious what she was thinking about him. She hadn’t seemed overly angry that he was here.

Well, when he was utterly sober, he would have to come back and offer up a proper apology for the trouble and inconvenience his drunken behavior would have caused her and the household.

He was sorry she had to see him like this. No doubt he’d thoroughly disgusted her.

His valet returned to the room and set the day’s news sheet beside his elbow, a freshly ironed copy. Max stared at the pristine pages, and he couldn’t help the smile he wore as he skimmed the headlines.

Daisy must not be too cross with him at all if she gave him the news sheet of her own free will.

Chapter Seven

It was only yesterday that Lord Throsby had snored on her settee and then slipped away without a word of goodbye, so Daisy was surprised to see him sitting in the square before the house early the next morning. He was alone and facing her town house, and it was the exact time of day she and her maid always went for a walk, so he had to know she’d see him.

He looked…well…better. More himself with the sun shining down on his bare head and his hat resting on his knee. He appeared to have taken her advice and shaved, and even styled his hair a little neater, too. He was not as shaggy as the last time she’d seen him, and not so drunk that he could have mistaken his location. He must have recovered his composure after the loss of his cousin and the unpleasant news of becoming a guardian again.

However, that didn’t explain why he was sitting in her square.

Daisy raised her parasol above her head to keep off the sun and descended her front steps with her maid following close behind, undecided about approaching him.

Throsby stood and took the decision out of her hands as he walked toward her. He raised his hand in a wave as he crossed the street. “Good morning, Miss Ellis. Miss Finch.”

“My lord,” her maid replied, before backing away to give them some privacy.

“Lord Throsby,” Daisy answered after a moment, her gaze lowering to where a black band on his upper arm ought to be seen. “I did not expect to see you out and about at this hour, or at all, given your mourning.”

That, and the sore head he could have woken with that morning, though she thought it unfair to bring it up.

“My cousin and I were not on good terms, and I will not shut myself away because society declares I should mourn my previous tormenter. The dead are the ones to be shut away, not the living.”

“I’m sure you’ll always do as you see fit,” she said, though she approved his decision not to mourn a horrible person. “It is difficult to mourn someone you love, and given what I learned yesterday, especially harder for someone you have good reason to despise.”

“Ah, I gather Gibbs told you all of my difficulties with my mother’s side of the family,” he murmured.

“They were mean to you,” she said.

“Yes, they were. Indifferent, too. Cold and uncaring. They planned to move me to their country cottage and leave me there while they took up residence in my London town house.”

“I can understand why you wouldn’t want that and ran away from them,” she began. “You were very brave to live alone at so young an age.”

“Stubborn, not brave. A sympathetic neighbor stepped in and made enough of a fuss about them that they slunk back to the country in embarrassment and shame and never bothered me again. He checked on me from time to time,” he admitted, and then sighed. “I suppose you thought I would remain drunk in celebration of my future elevation, but I’m not going to drink to excess anymore.”

“I’m glad, because it doesn’t suit you,” she said, approving of his decision.