“He wanted my promise not to marry you,” he elaborated. “I gave him my word.”
As if it was only up to Struan Mackenzie. As if she possessed no say . . . no brain.
“In exchange for what?” she bit out, and then shook her head, waving a hand. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Hot indignation bubbled up inside her. An awkward stretch of silence fell between them. She groped for something to say to fill the void when all she really wanted to do was storm from the room and corner Max somewhere so she could unleash her ire.
“The young Lady Camille is lovely,” she offered to the Scotsman.
The girl had been perfectly cordial to Aurelia, congratulating her on her marriage. Camille was also one of the few present who had been kind to her prior to her marriage.
“I suppose. A little thin. I prefer my ladies with curves.”
Not missing the flirtation, heat scored her cheeks. She felt a frisson of guilt. Max had insisted the man’s interest would not have dissipated because they were now married. Perhaps she should not have scoffed at him.
Then she recalled how angry she was at him. She quickly repressed her guilt.
“Are you happy, Aurelia?” Mackenzie asked, rolling her name in that gravelly burr of his.
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and blinked at him. “You are blunt, and I don’t recall giving you leave to use my Christian name. It’s Lady Camden now, Mr. Mackenzie.”
“Come. As a former suitor? Are we not permitted a little familiarity?”
She didn’t reply, instead sipped her punch and scanned the drawing room, hoping one of the guests milling about would choose that moment to join them so she did not have to answer Mackenzie’s discomfiting questions.
His burr was low and silky near her ear and his hand brushed her elbow. “Is it too much to think I might care for you?”
She lifted her gaze, reading the seduction in his eyes. This was more than friendly interest.
“Step away from my wife.”
Chapter 23
It all felt hotly familiar to Max. Walking up on Aurelia with Mackenzie hovering close, his big hand on her like he had every right to touch her. If possible, this time he felt closer to unraveling. Here, in Struan Mackenzie’s drawing room, he wanted to tear the bastard apart.
Aurelia’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Camden,” she said with a calm at odds with the spitting fire in her brown eyes.
There she went again. Calling him Camden as if they weren’t lovers.
And why did she look so angry to see him? She was here against his wishes. He had done nothing to her. She was the one in error here.
“This is a surprise.” Her lips curved into a brittle smile. “I did not think you could make it tonight.”
Oh, the cheek of the girl!
Mackenzie slid his hand off her arm, and some of the tension ebbed from Max’s shoulders. Until the bastard opened his mouth.
“Your delightful wife and I were just having a fascinating conversation.” He slid her an appreciative glance. “She always proves diverting.”
Max shook his head, despising that way he spoke about Aurelia. As if she and he were the most intimate of friends. He stepped closer, almost nose-to-nose with the Scotsman. He might not give a bloody damn about the curious stares shooting their way, but he would speak low so they would not be overheard. “You gave your word to stay away from her.”