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eyes. I do want that, Tristan. To be a part of your life.
Tristan had not thought of it that way before. He d wanted Max to include him in his life, but he
hadn t considered Max would truly want to be a part of Tristan s. He had demanded Max do so much
to prove he could be a good partner, yet he was suddenly aware Max had not demanded anything of
him in return except to give him a chance. A fortnight of chaste suppers, of compromises on Max s
part. The Duke of Pelham had willingly bowed to an ex-prostitute s will, and he hadn t required even a
kiss in return.
It was almost too much to believe. But Max s actions over the past two weeks held all the necessary
proof to turn inconceivable into fact.
Max really did love him. Max had told him so enough times for Tristan to believe it. And it wasn t
as if he d doubted Max loved him. Max wasn t the sort to give those three words easily. Hell, Tristan
was as certain as could be that he was the only man who had received those words from Max. Yet still,
he couldn t help but marvel at the knowledge Max wanted to be a part of his life.
Thank you. The words popped out of his mouth.
For what? Max asked, taken aback.
For everything you ve done of late. For wanting to be a part of my life. It means a lot to me.
Max gave him another crisp, single nod, yet this one held a shade of self-consciousness. He
resumed his pacing. After much deliberation, I d landed on what I believe is the best solution for our
circumstances. Your primary concern is how others, not you or I, would look upon a lasting friendship
between us given I am a duke and you are the son of a farmer, and therefore others would question the
true nature of our relationship.
Well, my mother was a gentleman s daughter, though the daughter of a poor gentleman. She was
of the Campbells of Lincolnshire. He did not know why he had to inform Max about that. Wouldn t
make a bit of difference, but it did make him feel a little farther away from the stews than Max might
believe him to be. But yes, a duke and a common farmer s son would rouse suspicion. Under normal
circumstances, a man of your standing would not associate with someone like me. I... There was no
point in not saying it, so Tristan plowed onward. I also worked at Rubicon s for two years. While I
never asked, I m certain some of the house s patrons move about in Society. It would be an
uncomfortable situation which could prove disastrous if one of your acquaintances recognized me.
Your title protects you, insulates you. You can do as you please. I don t have that liberty.
I cannot do as I please. If that were indeed the case, we would not be having this conversation.
Tristan rolled his eyes skyward. You can do almost as you please. Your title and your wealth
permit you much more freedom than I have ever had or will ever have.
My title has placed us in this situation. But in general, it does give me more options. Agreed. In
fact, my solution to our dilemma relies on my bank account and the weight of my title. Two things
you do not seem to much care for, but two things for which I am thankful, for they can allow us to be
together in a matter which will hopefully please both of us. He stopped and faced Tristan. A deep V
had formed between his dark brows, his mouth set in a grim line.
Suspicion formed in the pit of Tristan s stomach.
Please, no. Please don t let Max s solution include that.
Yet he kept his mouth shut, held back the protests. He d given Max his word he would hear him out.
Max passed his gaze over Tristan s face. Aside from our arrangement, aside from me, did you
enjoy living in Hampshire?
That wasn t the question Tristan had expected. Yes, I do believe I did.
Did you feel welcome by the neighborhood? Did you feel welcome when you went into the
village?
Yes. Your neighbors are quite a friendly bunch.
You don t care to live on a farm again, do you?
Where was Max going with these questions? Perhaps that ugly feeling in the pit of Tristan s
stomach was for naught. Perhaps Max s solution did not include the one thing Tristan dreaded above
all. Correct. Tilling the fields is not my preferred way to spend a day.
Do you really want to be a tailor? Do you wish to one day own your own shop?
It s not my lifelong ambition. But as I ve told you before, it is respectable work and work I
somewhat enjoy.
Somewhat?
Mr. Foster gives me the work he dreads. Understandable. I d prefer to construct the garments I
want to versus being relegated to monotonous tasks, but I m learning the trade and it is called work
for a reason.
When you lived with me in Hampshire, the neighborhood accepted you because you were my
friend. The neighborhood is small. The village is small. There aren t even enough respectable families
for a proper assembly. Something I bemoaned as an adolescent, but something that works to our
advantage. The residents also don t move about in Society. In Hampshire, our friendship is not
questioned. It does not rouse suspicion. You are not questioned. We are not questioned. Do you
agree?
Yes. And yes, Max, Tristan added, answering the next question before Max could ask it, I agree
your title and my friendship with you granted me a standing in the local society I would not have had
without you.
Thank you...for not arguing that point.
It is the truth. Would be more than churlish of him to attempt to argue against it.
Clasping his hands behind him, Max lifted his chin a tad. If Tristan wasn t mistaken, Max was
nervous. The man was trying to hide it but... The stiffness of his stance, the hint of worry in his
determined gaze.
Dread fell into Tristan s gut like an iron weight.
The Dawsons used to reside a little ways outside the village. A nice-sized house. Not too large, not
too small. Ideal for a gentleman but not enough for a family of five, complete with a bit of property
though no farmland, Max said, voice carefully neutral, as if he were merely discussing the particulars
of a business proposal. Tristan fought back the cringe. It s perhaps a mile and a half from the Park.
It s currently for sale. I ve already inquired, and they will accept a lease or an outright purchase.
He could see where Max was headed. Could now see why Max had asked all those questions, how
they had led them to this point.
Max hadn t been manipulating him exactly. The man had been trying to take away potential
arguments. Had been giving Tristan a brilliant show of his negotiation skills.
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