He found his answer as they traveled back to Wickhurst.

He would have to find her mother.

"What seems to be bothering you now," Nicholas asked as they waited outside the carriage for Maxine to arrive.

They spent another night at Oakley and although they were now married, they were not able to enjoy an evening together for they both fell asleep the moment they reached the bed.

Maxwell had been having a hard time talking as well as he was bothered by his recent realizations.

Could he proclaim his confession today? Tomorrow? Or should he wait until Maxine had gotten a grasp of the situation?

This was never part of her plan at all. But neither did he plan for this as well.

Her priority was to find her mother. If he helped her find the woman first, then mayhap he could find the perfect time to sit down with her and actually talk.

The problem then would be how.

"Dare not say that you are regretting dragging us all to Tiny Town, brother," Nicholas said with contempt. "I would not appreciate it. Have you not realized that I did not have any proper change of clothes for two nights now? And I have never been this weary on a travel before, I tell you!"

"Do shut up, Nick, before I kick your dandy arse to Wickhurst," he snapped. "I am not regretting anything."

"Then what is the matter?"

He considered his answer for a minute. He turned his head to stare at his brother. Nicholas looked like Nicholas—a childish dandy rake. Amazing, really, that at that very moment he wished he was with Cole Devitt and William Wakefield. Those two could offer better answers than the one he dragged to Tiny Town to be the witness to their wedding. Slowly shaking his head, he muttered, "You are not the person to understand my predicament."

Nicholas scowled. "I do know many things, brother. Pray tell me. Do you worry about Mother? You ought to, of course, for she shall not rest until you experience hell."

Maxwell ignored the tiny hint of fear at the mention of their mother. "As I have said, you are not suitable to hear it." He straightened as Maxine exited the door in a pale yellow dress Ysabella lent her.

"Perhaps a trip to Madam Vernice will be your first priority when we reach Wickhurst," murmured his brother.

"My wife dresses however she likes," he snapped again, walking away from Nicholas to meet Maxine. "Are you ready?" he asked, taking her hand.

She looked troubled and Maxwell regretted leaving her upstairs. Giving Maxine a little time to be alone meant allowing her the freedom to think and how she spent her time thinking upstairs while he waited outside the tavern seemed to have resulted to yet another potential banter between them.

"I do not wish for our families to know that we are married."

Of course, as he figured, he wryly thought. "Why am I not surprised?" he said with a sigh. "But why?"

"As you can see, I am not ready!" she uttered under her breath.

He was frustrated, but what else could he do? He nodded his head as it was the safest reaction at that moment. "But you are leaving Nicholas' estate." She nodded. Maxwell narrowed his eyes, doubtful of her obedience. "You are going home with me to Vinge Street."

Maxine shrugged and sighed. "Where else should I be?"

Maxwell pursed his lips to keep from grinning like a total fool and turned to walk Maxine to the carriage. Nicholas frowned at the two of them before he shook his head and climbed before them.

*****

"I simply need to talk with the servants," she said to Maxwell. They were outside Nicholas' estate.

"Let her be, brother," said Nicholas before he ran up to the front doors. "Home! Finally!" he cried to Oscar who opened for them. "And Oscar, announce for a vacant valet post immediately!"

Maxwell gave Maxine a look of warning. "I swear, Maxine, if you are planning anything—"

"Oh, bother," she said, leaving him inside the carriage. "Merely a few minutes, Maxwell. That is all I ask!"

She walked up to the front doors and hesitated when Oscar stepped aside to allow her entry. She gave the butler a small smile. "Oscar—"

"No need for explanations, milady," Oscar said, face unreadable. "Lord Maxwell has already relayed his plans before you departed for Tiny Town."

She flushed and cleared her throat but not without throwing Maxwell a look as he followed her into the doorway. "And Molly and Lottie?"

"In the kitchen, I assume." Oscar closed the door and offered, "I could get them for you if you—"

"I will look for them, thank you." She walked away to find the kitchen.

There, she found Fanny who gave her an awkward smile. The woman looked at her from head to foot. "You do look like a lady, my lady," said the woman.

"I am still Max for you, Fanny," she said to the housemaid. "And I assume you already know?"

The maid nodded. "Oscar did announce it the other day."

She sighed and looked around. "Then perhaps it is a useless idea to try to explain."

Fanny gave her a meaningful smile. "But you are also here to say goodbye."

Maxine nodded. "Yes."

She was surprised when Fanny closed the distance between them and embraced her. "I forgive you for deceiving us," said the woman and Maxine could not help but have tears in her eyes. "You simply wanted to find your mother and I do understand a child's yearning for one she never knew," Fanny added before letting her go. "I do so hope that you find her soon, my lady."

Maxine wiped the tears from her eyes. "Thank you, Fanny."

Fanny motioned her head to the service corridor. She turned and found Lottie and Molly standing there, their faces wary. "Max is here to say goodbye," Fanny said for her.

Maxine met Lottie's eyes and the girl immediately looked away with guilt. Choosing to ignore what Maxwell shared to her about Lottie's attempt to visit The Town Herald, she smiled and said, "I do hope that you can all forgive me for everything I have done."

Molly nodded, an awkward smile curving her lips. "Mayhap after I forget the dreadful things I have done as well."

Maxine chuckled, tears in her eyes. "You have been a family to me in some ways as I struggled to fit in when I first came here. I thank you all for that."

Lottie cleared her throat and met Maxine's eyes. "I'm sorry for having caused you trouble, my lady."

For Maxine, it was enough. Somehow she understood Lottie as she did Molly. Young women such as themselves could truly do foolish things for the objects of their desires.

"Dare not tell me that you are to leave without telling me," Albin's voice said from the kitchen doorway.

Maxine smiled and surprised everyone by striding toward the footman to give him a hug.

"Ey!" said Albin in panic but Maxine persisted.

"You have been a very terrific friend, Albin," she uttered, stepping away from the man. "Thank you."

Albin scoffed and scratched his head. "Worry not," he said. "I cannot say I am not glad to see you leave as I do not see myself working with a woman for a valet, but I also dread the moment that you do. You very well know why."

She chuckled as did the ladies. Nodding, she said, "Yes, I very know how much of a struggle it is to wait on Lord Nick. I hope you find a suitable one to take the post, one who could perfectly tie a cravat!"

"And let us hope it is a man," Oscar's voice added as he stepped into the kitchen from behind Albin. He looked around at the servants. "His lordship has arrived and not in a fairly good mood. As you very well know, he is without a valet once again. Everyone back on your posts," he ordered and Albin jumped on his feet to exit the kitchen, giving Maxine a wave goodbye. Lottie did the same, averting Maxine's eyes.

Molly, on the other hand was absently staring at Oscar and flushed when the man turned to frown at her and ask, "What is it, Molly?"

Maxine and Fanny shared a knowing look as Molly stammered, "Nothin'," and scurried away to disappear into the service corridor.

Oscar turned to Maxine and said, "Lord Max is waiting for you in the parlor, my lady," he said, stepping aside to give way for her.

Maxine gave Fanny one last hug and walked out of the kitchen, Oscar in tow. She stopped in the middle of the dining room and stared at the butler. "Oscar, I do hope that you find the courage to tell her," she whispered.

Oscar stiffened but did not say a word.

"You might be surprised and delighted, see?" she teasingly added as she turned to continue walking.

She heard Oscar clear his throat behind her and she smiled in satisfaction.

Perhaps in a more perfect time, she thought.

*****

"A modiste shall be in the estate by the morrow to take measurements," announced Maxwell, breaking the short silence that followed when they finally reached his estate at Vinge Street.

It was not as grand as Nicholas', but it spoke very much of its owner.

Arnold, the aging butler, was not very much different from Oscar. He simply accepted the information that his master was now with wife and dutifully rushed to order the other servants to be ready for supper and prepare the master bedchamber.

"You will soon realize that I do not have a valet," Maxwell imparted when they entered his study to wait for their chambers to be ready.

"You have one as your wife," she said, snickering at her own jest. "Although I do hope you are not particular with cravats."

Maxwell simply shook his head while Maxine looked around the room. "Quaint," she murmured. "I like it."

"Kenward is better," he said from the window. His hands were in the pockets of his trousers. He seemed distant since they departed Oakley that Maxine could not help but wonder if he had any regrets.

Surely, not this early?

She sat on the chaise, contemplating whether to suggest they have separate chambers as was customary. But having had a taste of what it was like to be in bed with her husband, Maxine was certain they would simply be sharing the same bed every night.

Unless, of course, Maxwell had started to regret everything. Both of them had been too impulsive after all.

He turned to face her from across the room, his expression unreadable. His hair shadowed his face. Maxine started to feel dreadful.

"Why do you not wish to be introduced to society?" he asked.

That was not the question she was expecting. In fact, she did not expect him to ask one.

With a sigh, she set aside her thoughts about their new marriage and answered his question. "My past governesses have always been clear on who I truly am and what my nature can cause my family."

She heard his loud scoff of disbelief. "No wonder. Those wenches abused your young mind."

"But they spoke of the truth and I was never blind to the fact." She turned away to absently stare at a column of books behind his table. "I never addressed my stepmother as Mother," she admitted, feeling quite ashamed.

"Because you have always believed you have another one," he said, walking forward to settle on the chaise opposite hers. His eyes were gentle as he added, "That is quite understandable."

Maxine shook her head. "I love Rachel," she said. "With all of my heart, I truly do."

"But?" he asked, brows arched high.

Her jaw tightened. Maxwell peered down at her, his eyes gauging her reaction and she knew that he was realizing what was on her mind.

Ah, why did she have the wisest of men for a husband!

His eye twitched and that was when she figured that he finally realized the answer to his question.

"You believe you do not deserve her after what your father did to her."

Maxine cleared her throat and tried to divert the subject. "I see drawings for jewelries," she said, standing up to walk up to his table where papers of complicated jewelry designs were scattered. "Nicholas did tell me you design most of the Everard jewelries."

Maxwell shifted in his seat. Maxine could feel his intense gaze behind her.

"You do not have to carry the burden of your parents' sins. No child deserves it."

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Rachel had said as much," she muttered, frowning at a necklace design. "Did you draw these?"

"Maxine," he called out but she ignored it.

"Please," she muttered, "I do not wish to talk about my family."

"Then perhaps you would like to talk about us?" he suggested.

She stiffened. Ah, so now he finally had the courage to talk about them. "You do regret everything." She dared not look back. "You now believe we have both been such utter fools." When he remained silent, she braved herself to turn, anchoring one hip against the table. His face was unreadable as he stared at her from where he was sitting. "Perhaps you think that I may not be carrying your child after all. No need for such gallant act, yes?" She forced a smile on her lips. "Do you wish a divorce? We may enjoy each other in bed, but we both know that it barely covers a good marital life."

Maxwell started to frown and Maxine's eyes flickered with annoyance. "Perhaps it is time that I return to Theobald. Mayhap my father would give me answers now that I know of the truth and assist me on finding my mother. No one, save your brother and the servants must know of our whirlwind marriage."

Her husband raked his fingers through his hair, a sign of frustration.

And then he wryly uttered, "Are you daft?"

"No, merely preparing myself for the worst thing you might say," she said with an awkward chuckle. Forcing her voice to sound brighter, she added, "Do you mean to talk about something else then? A good marriage arrangement? Separate chambers? A blind eye should you choose to have a mistress? Utter obedience?"

Maxwell's frown deepened as he gazed at her in disbelief.

"I could live with separate chambers although I would appreciate that you give me ample time in the evenings. Mistresses, on the other hand, are forbidden. I will not condone it. Should I know that you have one, I will hunt you myself and know, my lord, that I will do worse than what my stepmother did to my father many years ago." She blinked and reluctantly added, "Obedience I shall try, of course."

Her husband's mouth had fallen slightly open at her monologue.

She sighed with impatience. "That is not what you wish to discuss then? Well? What is it you wish to tell me?"

When he stood up, Maxine opened her mouth to speak but he held up one hand and snapped, "No, you are done talking nonsense."

He paced before her, head bowed. She followed his movement, feeling quite lost. She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Finally he stopped in front of her and looked into her eyes. Her heart started to hammer. Was there something worse than a divorce? Did he have a terminal illness and was dying? Did he lie and knew where her mother was?

"I have to tell you something you must know. I was contemplating whether or not I ought to tell you, but after hearing about the horrible things on your mind, I believe it must be now," he started. She waited for his next words. "I am in love with you."

Maxine's mouth hung open and if her weight was not supported by the table behind her, she might have found herself on the floor at that very moment.

Maxine merely blinked while her husband gazed at her expectantly.

How many times did Maxwell Everard have to surprise her in a lifetime?

Irritation clouded his features. "Well? What do you say to that?" he demanded. "I hate indirect conversations so would you answer whether or not you love me in return? If you do not, or believe you cannot in the near future, I shall give you your freedom."

Was she hearing these very words from his mouth?

"I'd rather have this over with before we pursue the matter about your mother for I wish to have my peaceful nights of sleep back." He brushed his hair away from his face once again. When she remained to be in shock, he urged, "Well, what do you say?"

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again and tried one more time. "What do you intend me to say? You caught me by surprise! I was expecting a divorce, Maxwell, not a confession!" she snapped. "What do you wish me to say?" she repeated her question, both for him and herself.

"How would I know? This is the first I fell in love," he said, waving an arm in frustration. "What do I do about it?"

Maxine let out a scoff of disbelief, gaping at the man before her. "Are you seriously asking me?"

He stared at her wryly. "Well, you are the subject of my affections. Who else must I ask?"

"Maxwell Arthur Everard," Maxine said, slowly shaking her head in utter bewilderment. She pushed away from the table, stumbling on her feet, "You are the most eccentric lover one could ever land with!" She turned around to leave, mouth agape, still at awe.

"Maxine, I am not done with my confession—"

"Some other time, husband," she interjected, pulling the door open. Turning in the doorway to stare at his disgruntled state, she added, "Your wife, as you may very well see, is currently in utter shock!"

"One week," he said, turning on his heel to fully face her. "One week and you give me an answer."

Maxine walked out without a reply but with a big, foolish grin on her face.

*****

Later that night it seemed as though their odd conversation in the study did not occur.

Maxwell insisted that there shall be no separate chambers for them both and immediately demonstrated why by tugging her toward the bed to gently make love to her.

She knew that she was capable of loving him, but she had never realized until he confessed that he was capable of making her do so. Mayhap she already was in love, but how was she to tell when she had never even been with another man the way she was with him? How was she to know when no one had told her what it was like for a woman to feel such emotions?

All she knew was that she wanted him and she reveled at the way he could make her feel many things all at once.

She enjoyed their banters more than she detested them. She looked forward on touching him and to be touched by him with naught but their breaths to cloth them, with naught but their bodies to guide them. Furthermore, it was only with him that she felt at ease to be completely mindless as he kissed all worries away.

Very much later, as they both lay in bed, his hand gently running up and down her side, sending a tingling sensation down her spine, Maxine realized that in his arms she felt found.

She felt she belonged here.

If it was love, then perhaps it was.

He shifted to lie on his side to face her and he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. His hand reached for her hair and he asked, "Have you always had it this short?"

"No," she murmured against his chest, snuggling closer. "It had always been long."

He brushed her strands with his fingers, pushing them away from her damp face. "You are forbidden to touch a pair of scissors for the next five years," he said.

Maxine let out a snort. "First test of my obedience, my lord?"

He planted his mouth against her forehead. Maxine closed her eyes with a smile, wrapping her arm around his waist, not expecting a reply.

"Two," he murmured against her skin.

"Hmm?" she sleepily asked.

"I am changing my proposition," he explained. "Two weeks, Maxie," he said and she smiled at the endearment. "I can survive two more weeks, but I require an answer within a fortnight."

Maxine sighed. "Very well."

"That is fourteen days," he elaborated, bending his head down, his chin touching his chest, to look at her.

"I know how to count."

"This day included."

She slapped his arm. "I wish to sleep now, my lord."

"Thirteen days starting on the morrow," he insisted.

Maxine groaned and pushed him away in frustration. He held her close in an iron embrace. "Sleep," he murmured against her hair.

"You are the oddest sort," she murmured before sleep completely consumed her.