Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells (21 page)

Max had never hated anything as much as he hated the tiny buttons on Ella’s spencer. The short jacket was covering her neck and shoulders, and Max wanted, no, needed, to taste the skin there. With their mouths locked together he undid each one as swiftly as possible, while Ella unconsciously drove him insane with her writhing. Each wiggle ground her against his erection, and he was going mad with need. Finally he freed the last button, and yanked the infernal garment open. With one last deep kiss on her mouth he broke away, and then lowered his head to her neck.

When Max’s lips touched the pulse in her neck Ella heard herself make mewling sounds. His mouth on the base of her throat seemed to set the whole exposed expanse of skin on fire. Desperately she clung to him. She wanted their mouths to meet; she wanted to feast on him, but when she tried to tug his head up to meet hers he growled and moved his attentions out along her shoulder. Well, two could play at that game.

Max was paying homage to the delicate skin over Ella’s collar bone when he felt her mouth nibble a line up his neck to his ear. He froze when the tip of her tongue began tracing the whorls in his ear, pausing every so often to bite at the lobe. His whole body shuddered from that delicate little wet touch, and his hands moved to cup her breasts, thumbs caressing the hard nipples beneath her thin clothing. Ella moaned and left off her dainty torture, so he captured her mouth once more, and then lowered his head to lick the small exposed cleft of her breasts.

Ella threw back her head and gasped, and without Max filling her vision she suddenly remembered where they were. They were in her shop, on Low Street, where anyone could walk in and see Max making her writhe like a cat in heat. And that thought made her remember that she had something very important to tell him.

“
Max, Max! Stop! You have to stop.”

Max drew away perhaps half an inch, and the raw heat on his face made her insides feel like molten gold, but she didn’t give in to the urge to begin touching him again.

“
Max, we can’t, I…” Clearly the time for delicacy had passed. “I won’t be your mistress.”

Max looked confused. “Ella, what are you talking about? And
why
in the name of all that is holy, are you talking about it
now?
”

“
Obviously
now
is exactly the time to talk about it, before it becomes a moot point.” Ella was exasperated by him.

“
Ella, I don’t recall ever
asking
you to be my mistress.”

“
Oh, so you thought you’d just take me up against the wall of my shop the one time, and be done with me?” Her passion was quickly turning into anger.

“
What? No, I…” Ella pushed him backwards while he fumbled for an answer. “Ella, what have you been thinking in that overactive mind of yours?”

“
I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking, Max of no known rank and no last name,” Ella was snapping her words out as she yanked her clothing straight and buttoned her jacket. “I am thinking that you are a man of means and status, although precisely
what
means and
which
status you have not seen fit to enlighten me. I am thinking that there are few men of
any
means or status for whom a seamstress from Low Street is considered a suitable match. I am thinking that a seamstress from Low Street is precisely the kind of woman who would be considered mistress material by the class of people to which I have been
assuming
you belong.
And
I have been thinking that, while being a kept woman might suit some ladies,
I
am not one of them. So, tell me Max, am I in error in my thoughts? Or perhaps I was imagining your intentions when you had me pressed against the wall there? Please, enlighten me.”

Max looked at her soberly. “Your thoughts, such as they are, are more or less correct, Ella.” She looked as though she’d like to interrupt, but Max kept speaking. “But you are in error in assuming that there’s nothing else to consider. Yes, you are a seamstress,
now
, but you have always been and will always be a girl from a good family. Fallen on hard times, perhaps, but with a respectable name.” At her somewhat mollified look he continued. “Further, you are in error in believing that I would ever ask anyone to be my mistress, if I respected her as much as I respect you. Even if a woman
were
truly unsuitable, I would steer well clear of her, rather than risk dragging her name through the mud.” Ella now looked
much
calmer. Good. “And, finally, I will confess that you were entirely correct about one thing,” he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, “my intentions when I had you against the wall were not at
all
proper.”

Ella quickly shoved him backwards, and for a moment Max thought she was still angry, but then he heard the bell chime, and saw Ella plaster a friendly smile on her face.

“
Mrs. Minglesall! You’re just a touch early for your appointment.”

“
Oh I know, yes I know, I
do
know I’m early, dear, but last night I received so many compliments on my outfit I became tremendously
excited
about planning the next one. I was hoping you could work this in somehow.” Max turned swiftly to the wall. The item which Mrs. Minglesall was so proudly displaying was a deep blue velvet bustier, adorned with fake sapphires the size of quail eggs, and embellished with gold concentric circles placed in such a way as to emphasize the, ah, relevant portions of the anatomy.

Ella was grateful that Max had turned to the wall. Surely if he had looked at her she would have laughed until she cried. She had no idea how she was going to work that hideous thing into a costume, but, really, more significantly she had no idea how she was going to get Max out of there without Mrs. Minglesall realizing that the man was shaking with silent laughter.

“
Well, Mrs. Minglesall, let me just finish up with my first customer and then you and I can hold a consultation. With the color and the patterns, perhaps something relating to the constellations? Anyway, I’ll be right with you.” Ella escorted her patroness to a comfortable chair towards the back of the shop, left her with some paper and a pencil so she could start making notes, and then made her way back to Max.

“
Can I see you later today?” Max spoke quietly, all trace of his former humor gone.

“
Max I… I don’t see how you can. I have work to do. Mrs. Minglesall has been talking about my work to all her friends, and I have several other appointments today.”

Max felt guilty. Presumably dressing him would do far more to increase her prestige than dressing Mrs. Minglesall, but he hadn’t said a word to anyone. He couldn’t. He’d told the king and most of the court that Ella was just a dance partner; if he started advertising her shop
h
is
M
ajesty would become suspicious.
More
suspicious. He needed to tell Ella that he wasn’t going to be able to help her. He needed to tell her what was going on.

“
Ella, I have to talk to you. I have something I need to explain…” He trailed off.

Ella felt her chest grow cold. A sense of resignation came over her. Yes,
her
reasons why she wasn’t suitable had been explained away, but surely there were others. Her eyes stung but she blinked fiercely. There was no reason to put herself through this. She had always known she couldn’t have Max. She hardly needed to sit and listen to the reasons why.

“
Max, I can’t see you. I’m busy.”

“
Then I’ll call on you at home.” Max knew he would be in world of trouble if he was found out, calling on Ella, but he
had
to talk to her.

“
No, Max, I really don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“
Ella…”

“
Max, I have a customer. Please, go.” Her voice sounded small and broken in her own ears, not like herself at all.

It was the voice that made him turn and go. If she had been angry or imperious he could have teased or cajoled his way around it, but not this. Damnit all, if the girl just didn’t want him he would be a man and give her up, but this was something else. She sounded like he had broken her heart, and he wasn’t just going to walk away from that. If she wouldn’t see him in her shop and she didn’t want him to call, then he would just have to think of something else.

CHAPTER S
IX
TEEN

It was late, and Vivienne had been watching Max pace for over an hour. She would have been amused if she weren’t so worried for her friend. Max had been immune to all the lovelorn glances thrown his way by the well-born ladies of the land, and now he had fallen hard for a dressmaker. It
was
funny, but Vivienne sighed. He was going to get himself hurt, and Vivienne didn’t know how to stop him. Heartbreak was bad enough, but if her father found out… which reminded her.

“
Max.”

“
…I mean, how do I even begin to go about explaining this? ‘Ella, so sorry, but would you mind terribly if I avoided you for four or five months and
then
started courting you?’”

“
Max.
”