He frowned. “They’re not connected. How could they be? Why should they be? You’re turning something innocent into something sinister without the slightest piece of evidence.”
“But think, Max, think. Do you have something that someone else wants?”
“I might have had, once,” he admitted grudgingly. “I know what you’re doing, Marietta. You’re trying to make me believe that Harold wants me dead so that he can inherit. But apart from the complete ridiculousness of such a theory, how can you justify this?” He pointed to the bandage on his head. “Harold already has everything. What’s the point of getting rid of me now that he has been named heir? None at all.”
“It doesn’t make sense, no. Not yet.”
“Please, Marietta, just leave it. I don’t need you to interfere in my life, and I certainly haven’t asked you to. You are one of those women who delight in meddling, aren’t you? Well, in this instance, don’t!”
“Someone has to look after you, Max,” she said, and gave him her wide-eyed look.
“The kissing was easier,” he muttered. “At least while your mouth was busy you couldn’t ask questions, or inflict your wild theories on me.”
“Oh, do you want to practice again?”
He looked at her mouth, and for a moment his eyes darkened, as though he was considering it. And then he rose to his feet, with only a little hesitation. “No,” he said bluntly. “No more lessons today. Goodbye, Marietta.”
Marietta smiled, because no matter how much he was protesting now, she knew he had enjoyed it as much as she. “Very well, goodbye until next time, Max.”
The door closed behind her.
Thank God she’s gone, Max told himself, and ignored the flash of heat inside him when he remembered his mouth fusing with hers. She had gotten some wild notion into her head and now she would not let it go. And it was wild, he told himself firmly. Harold was his cousin and his best friend; he would never hurt him. Never!
But the damage was done. Marietta Greentree had made him face his doubt, and no matter how he protested against it that sly voice would be forever whispering in his ear.
“I’m just lucky…or unlucky,” he murmured to himself. “Accident prone, that’s all.”
Oh yes, very accident prone.
“It means nothing.”
Others have noticed. Marietta noticed straight away.
“If someone wanted me dead so that they could claim my inheritance, then why knock me down after I lost everything? It doesn’t make sense.”
The voice was silent.
Because he was right, Max told himself.
Besides, he had other things to think of. His man of business had made some suggestions about the house in Cornwall,
and the possibility of turning the estate into a going concern. None of them had been very optimistic, apart from one idea that appeared workable. There was a mine near Blackwood, long since closed down because the copper had run out at the end of last century. Now many such mines were reopening and being profitably mined for tin. There had been traces of tin found in Blackwood’s mine, enough anyway for him to consider reopening it. His mother’s little nest egg would be sufficient to repair and reequip the mine, employ some of the local men, and make a new start.
If he lived long enough.
“Blast her,” he murmured. Marietta Greentree’s insinuations didn’t make sense. None of them. Just as his feelings for Marietta herself didn’t make sense. She was the most irritating woman, and yet…He wanted her. She was already playing upon his desire like a musician upon a harp—she had his strings expertly quivering and humming—and yet she claimed not to know anything about seduction.
It was annoying, Max decided bleakly, looking about him, and very strange when he had just been wishing her gone, but now that she was…
The room felt empty without her.
Downstairs, Pomeroy was just divesting a tall, thin gentleman of his top hat and walking stick. Harold Valland looked up as Marietta descended the stairs, his brown eyes so very similar to Max’s and yet so very different.
“Miss Greentree! Pomeroy said you were here. How is Max today?”
Marietta smiled as she joined him. “He is much better, sir.”
“It is very generous of you to take this interest in my cousin,” Harold said, full of sincerity. “Unfortunately since his…his troubles, people have been avoiding him. But you are his friend, aren’t you, Miss Greentree?”