His Lady Mistress

28 His Lady Mistressseen, she dragged in a deep breath and stole another look.Celia, dressed in her prettiest sprig muslin, with the merestsuggestion of dainty ankle below the flounce, was pouting upat...Max.Shock gripped Verity. She couldn’t be mistaken. Everyfeature of that face was etched on her memory. The hardangles, the square jaw. Her heart pounded as she absorbedevery detail. Max. Here.‘Perhaps we should go back, Miss Faringdon?’‘Oh, pish!’ Celia disposed herself on the seat with a gracefulswish of her skirts. ‘Why should anyone think anythingof it? After all, such good friends as we are, Lord Blakehurst...’Such good friends?His lordship’s voice dripped indifference. ‘I’ll bid yougood morning, Miss Faringdon. Believe me, my friendshipwith your reputation far outweighs any other consideration!’Verity nearly choked as Celia’s brow knit, trying to workout if this remark added up to a compliment. Even as shewatched, his lordship bowed to Celia and made to leave themaze.Celia leapt to her feet. ‘Oh, sir! I must guide you, lest youbecome confused. Our maze is renowned for all the guestswho have become hopelessly lost in it!’Verity slumped against the hedge. She would have to givethem plenty of time before she returned. She listened to thefading voices.Maybe the maze wasn’t such a good place with the housefull of visitors. Too easy to become trapped, no matter howwell she knew it. She couldn’t risk being caught and givingAunt Faringdon more ammunition.But Max was here...why? Could he really be courting Celia?Max? Her gentle, tender Max? Did he know she washere? Oh, for goodness sake! Why should he?She didn’t think she had told him who her uncle was. Andapparently Max had left the village very early on the morning