by Sara Ramsey
But then Max slid her bodice off her shoulders and looked down at her breasts. He smiled, looking every bit as uncontrolled as she felt. “It feels right that we’re in a strongroom,” he said, almost growling it. “You’re the only treasure at Maidenstone worth guarding.”
He captured one of her nipples with his teeth. She almost shrieked when he did — her skin was more sensitive than she’d guessed. He seemed to know exactly the right way to touch her, to make her come alive with need. He licked and sucked, teasing her, tormenting her, until she’d buried her hands in his hair and didn’t want to let him go. And meanwhile, his hand was moving slowly, inexorably, ever closer to her core….
She shoved herself away from him in a rush of energy. Had she completely lost her mind?
“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently, as she shoved her skirt down and pulled her bodice up.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just, it’s late, and I should really be in bed. I’ll need to wake up early….”
He leaned forward and put a hand on her arm — comforting, not threatening. “Shhh,” he said softly, as though calming a startled horse. “Shhh. Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. Her breath was still coming in little shuddering gasps and her body was starting to realize that it wouldn’t get to finish what Max had started — and it was bitterly disappointed by that fact. She suspected that whatever he’d planned for her would have been good.
But would he be able to tell, just by touching her, that she wasn’t a virgin? That she’d given birth?
She looked into his eyes. She saw bewilderment there, and banked desire — but she also saw concern.
Chapman probably would have forced her if she’d said no after the first time. Max looked like he would kill anyone who attempted to harm her — including himself.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she said quietly. “It’s just…I can’t do this. Not now.”
He shoved a hand through his hair, disrupting it even more than she had only moments before. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry, Lucy. I forgot that you’d be a virgin. Thank you for stopping me. I don’t think I would have remembered in time.”
She felt a little heartbreak and a whole lot of guilt at his words. But the secret of her virginity — or lack thereof — wasn’t hers alone. It impacted Julia too.
And as much as she wanted to trust Max, she couldn’t bring herself to take this final step.
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “You didn’t hurt me. If anything, you made me see what I’ve been missing. Maybe that’s what you should apologize for.”
He quirked a little grin, but it looked pained. “Can’t say I’m glad that we stopped, but it’s for the best. We should go upstairs before I ravish you anyway.”
His tone didn’t hold any threat — if anything, she wished she could encourage him. But she looked away, rearranging her clothing as best she could.
He pulled her to her feet. She didn’t let go of his hand after she was standing — she cupped his hand in hers. “I just want you to know that I didn’t stop you because of your background. And I didn’t start kissing you because you might be the earl. I wanted you, Max — not your title. And I would have taken everything if I could.”
His eyes darkened. He brought his other hand up to caress her cheek. “I didn’t think I could have you. Still don’t, if I’m being honest. But if I really am the earl….”
He trailed off. Her heart, which had tried not to hope for anything, sped up.
“If I’m really the earl, it changes things. But you would still have to decide if you really want me.”
Lucy tried not to let her smile grow too wide. “I really want you.”
He laughed, short and mirthless. “Don’t tell me that when my body’s still trying to get over the fact that it won’t be having you tonight,” he said. “You’re giving it ideas.”
They walked out of the strongroom hand in hand. On the other side of the door, she locked the first lock — but then realized the Chinese lock wasn’t anywhere nearby. “Do you have the second lock?” she asked him.
He patted his jacket, then looked at her apologetically. “I must have left it somewhere in the strongroom.”
She shrugged. “No one knows where the strongroom is anyway — I’ll tell Claxton to find it tomorrow.”
They went upstairs in silence, neither talking as they navigated the darkened halls to the family wing. But outside her door, Max touched her shoulder. “Thank you for putting your support behind my inheritance,” he said quietly. “I never expected you to.”
She nodded. “You would make a good earl, Max. I hope I’m at Maidenstone to see it, but you would do well here even without me.”
She couldn’t be quite that selfless if it really came to that. But there was a light in Max’s eyes that made her hope she wouldn’t have to be.
He kissed her again. He kissed her like he couldn’t resist her — like she was a treat he’d been forbidden to have. He kissed her until her lips were swollen again, and she was beginning to wonder if there was something they could do in bed that wouldn’t result in him learning any of her secrets….
But he remembered to pull away before she did. “Let’s talk tomorrow. If Ferguson will support my claim — and if you haven’t changed your mind — maybe I should change my plans.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice to respond. He walked down the hall to his room, shoving his hands through his hair again, and slipped into his room.
She smiled. It felt reckless, premature, and slightly scary. She still knew virtually nothing about him, other than that his claim to the Maidenstone title was real.
But for a night, at least, she could dream that it would all come out right in the end.
Chapter Seventeen
By morning, Max had had far too little sleep to function properly. He’d awoken with Lucy’s scent in the air and memories of her body in his mind. His dreams had been full of her — the way she looked, the way she tasted, the way she laughed. He’d gotten himself off quickly, almost brutally — still half asleep, half dreaming of the woman he wanted and had never believed he could have.
But if the papers unexpectedly proved his claim over Maidenstone, and if the stars were all aligned in his favor…maybe he could have her.
This life — with coffee in bed before morning rides and afternoons spent bantering with Lucy as they dealt with the business of the estate. They would spend their nights engaged in far more pleasurable business, all laughter and sex and sleepy conversation. He’d never been much for cuddling — but he’d never met a woman whose company he’d craved so much, or owned a bed that was made for leisure.
He’d never thought of living anywhere other than a city. But in the wide, wild green of Devonshire, he’d found a kind of peace he’d never known he could have. And Lucy….
But he was still rational enough to know that he was being seduced by a fairy tale as much as he was falling for the real woman behind the dream. It was far too soon to be thinking of waking up next to her, let alone dreaming of building a life with her. She didn’t know anything about his past — or what he’d planned to steal from her. She didn’t know that he’d stolen the Chinese lock from the strongroom so he’d have a better chance to break in later, even as he was kissing her like he would never leave her. Hell, he still didn’t know what secrets her servants were keeping for her. It would be safer to stick to his original plan, not to the half-promises they’d made to each other the night before.
He was tempted, though. As he walked out to the stables a little later to join Titus for their morning ride, he considered whether they could wait a few days to steal everything. He could send Titus to Exeter with additional funds for Atticus. Ferguson’s messenger wouldn’t return from London for another few days. It would surely be safe to stay and see how things developed with Lucy.
He was so enamored with his new plan that he didn’t notice anything amiss when he greeted Titus outside the stables. But as soon as they were mou
nted and out of earshot of anyone else, Titus said, “Atticus is here.”
“What?” Max said, tightening his grip on the reins so much that his horse nearly threw him.
“Maybe we should’ve talked about this before you got up on that horse,” Titus said, eyeing his form. “The gelding already lost his bollocks — he doesn’t deserve you riding him to death.”
Max tried to relax. “Why is Atticus here?”
Titus handed him a piece of paper. Max recognized the spidery cursive before the paper was fully in his hand.
And just like that, his daydream vanished.
“How in the devil did Durrant find us?” Max asked.
“Atticus’ll tell you. We’re meeting him in the Maidenstone clearing. Antonia is bringing Cress. It was the only place I could think of. If we hear someone coming, we can stall for time while Atticus hides.”
Max nodded. He unfolded the paper. It was addressed to Maximus Vale, but the “Vale” had been crossed out and replaced with “Briarley.”
Fuck.
Durrant was the only person in London who knew both Max’s criminal background and his real last name. After Durrant had forced him to work for him and Max had begun thieving in earnest, he’d quickly decided not to taint his family name with gossip of his misdeeds. Everyone knew him only as Max. Which meant that no one would realize, necessarily, that the thief they used to know was on his way to becoming the next Lord Maidenstone.
But if Durrant went to the press with an anonymous story about everything he knew of Max’s past, and Ferguson or the House of Lords tried to block his claim as a result, it would ruin everything.
Any one of his previous crimes were enough to see him executed. It wasn’t the noose that scared him, though.
How would Lucy look at him if she knew he was a criminal?
He was getting ahead of himself. He spread the paper out, deciphering Durrant’s handwriting.
My dear Max — or should I say Lord Maidenstone? Your circumstances have improved dramatically since the last time I saw you in my courtroom. It would be so unfortunate if gossip spread about your previous background. Especially since I can only assume that there are some interesting alterations to church records that Titus might hang for. I’d make sure to arrange things so all your siblings swing before you do — would be better to give you the chance to say goodbye, wouldn’t it?
I also heard Miss Briarley’s declaration at the mausoleum. Whoever your future countess is would be very disappointed in your past, I’m sure. Shame to break a woman’s heart or reputation by conning her into marrying a criminal.
But I’ll stay silent about all of it if I can count on your support from the House of Lords. There are many matters where it would help to have an earl in my pocket. I’ll be watching proceedings to make sure it all unfolds as planned.
Yours, etc. - Durrant
“Well, that’s direct,” Max said. “Did you read it already?”
Titus nodded. “I’d like to see him try to pin a forgery on me. Every one of ’em was perfect.”
Max laughed. “You’re always confident, aren’t you?”
“You have to have confidence in this game,” Titus said. Then he looked at Max. “What are you going to do about Durrant?”
“I don’t know,” he said shortly, shoving the paper into his waistcoat.
Durrant had always known how to control him. He wouldn’t let Max claim an earldom without demanding a steep — perhaps impossible — price. It was bad enough that he could threaten Max’s siblings. If Max married Lucy, it was only a matter of time before Durrant would threaten her as well.
Max couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t bring Durrant into her safe, well-ordered life. The life he could have shared with her if his past crimes weren’t so insurmountable.
But it felt too cruel to have had that dream — to have almost convinced himself that his dream could come true — only to have Durrant crush it immediately.
They navigated the forest in silence. When they neared the clearing, Titus reined in his horse. “You might as well stop here, Max. I’ve been here before. Horses won’t enter the clearing.”
Max dropped to the ground and walked to the edge of the clearing, letting Titus manage the horses. It was a well-maintained, nearly perfect circle, with short grass and scattered wildflowers carpeting the ground. The stone at the middle of the clearing was a single pillar, curved vaguely in the shape of a woman, almost uncanny in a place with no other rocks.
He wasn’t superstitious. But he said a prayer under his breath before he left the safety of the woods.
The rest of his siblings joined him a few moments later. Antonia and Cress stepped into the clearing from the nearby footpath. And then Atticus emerged from the opposite side.
Cress flung herself at Atticus, hugging him fiercely. Antonia and Max exchanged a silent look — Antonia didn’t look happy. They didn’t talk of business at first; instead, they spent a few moments hugging Atticus, hearing how he’d fared in Exeter, and telling him some of the wildest things they’d seen at Maidenstone Abbey.
They couldn’t gossip forever, though. Before they were ready, Max cleared his throat. “We should get to business. Atticus, how did Durrant find you?”
Atticus shrugged. “I haven’t any idea. I was careful not to be too noticeable. I mostly kept to my room and read. But then a boy showed up at the inn asking for someone of my description. I thought it might be a message from you. He gave me the note from Durrant instead.”
Max frowned. “If Durrant followed us from London, why wouldn’t he have approached us while I was still in Exeter? Why wait until now?”
“I wondered that all the way here. The note came last night, but I waited until first light to ride here — no sense breaking my neck on the road and leaving you without any warning that Durrant is in the neighborhood.”
“Were you followed?” Antonia interjected.
Atticus shrugged again. “I rode east for half an hour first, then changed horses and clothes and looped back around the outskirts of Exeter before coming south. I didn’t see any sign that I was being followed, but I’m not as good at this as the rest of you.”
Atticus didn’t have as much experience with breaking and entering as the older siblings did, but he was highly intelligent — if he didn’t think he’d been followed, Max believed him. “That was a good strategy, Atticus. Any thoughts on why or how he might have found you?”
“Word has spread like wildfire that a new Briarley has arrived at Maidenstone to claim the title. The gossip was all over Exeter last night when Octavia Briarley left in a rush. Durrant’s note arrived right after that. Maybe he knows you’re about to escape his clutches?”
“But Durrant never should have guessed that Max was the man who was trying to claim the title,” Antonia said. “He never knew our real last name.”
“Durrant knew,” Max said. “I said it in court when I went up in front of him the first time — I didn’t stop using it until after I started working for him. If gossip reached Exeter that Maximus Vale was here, he’d know it was me.”
Antonia looked like she might be sick. “We shouldn’t have come here at all. We should have taken our chances on a new city with different names.”
Max shook his head. “This is still a better plan. But escape will be tough now that he knows where we are. I still can’t believe he tracked us even as far as Exeter. It sounds like he knew to look for us there.”
They all mulled that over in silence. But it didn’t really matter how Durrant had found them. Max wasn’t surprised that Durrant had done everything in his power to track them down. He had only let Max out of his previous “employment” grudgingly. When Max had reunited with Antonia, he’d known she wouldn’t be safe with the bulk of Durrant’s crew, so he’d decided to strike out on his own. Durrant hadn’t been happy about it. He’d let Max go, with a warning to stay away from Durrant’s territories — one Max had happily complied with.
Durrant seemed e
vil, but in the end he was pragmatic. He used fear and violence to keep people in line, but ultimately everything came down to power and money. He’d let Max go when it wasn’t worth fighting to keep him. He wouldn’t give Max another chance to escape now that he had something to blackmail Max with.
“The way I see it, we have two choices,” Max said slowly. “The safer choice is that we stick to the original plan, steal everything tonight, and leave England on the next ship we can find.”
“That’s my vote,” Antonia said.
Titus frowned. “What’s the second choice?”
Max had been thinking of arguments in favor of this choice all morning. Now, with Durrant’s shadow looming over him, he shook his head. “It’s not a good strategy. But we could stay here, wait until I become Lord Maidenstone, and then deal with Durrant.”
Cressida and Atticus both gaped at him. Titus nodded immediately. “You would be the best thief who ever lived. That’s my vote.”
“No one could know I was a thief,” Max pointed out.
“Sure, but we would know. You can tell your grandchildren someday, when you’re too old and doddering to be believed.”
The thought of grandchildren had never moved him before. But the thought of Lucy’s grandchildren running through the vast halls of Maidenstone Abbey almost took his breath away.
In that future, it wasn’t just his immediate family that would be secure. His children, his grandchildren, perhaps even generations beyond that — they would never have to fear the life he and his siblings had been forced to live.
Antonia clearly didn’t see that future. She shook her head almost violently. “You can’t escape Durrant. It’s all well and good to playact at being the earl for a few days, but blood always tells in the end. They’ll catch you eventually. Or Durrant will rat you out. Better to run and be safe than to stay here and die because you got too greedy.”
“But what if we’re really Briarleys?” Max asked.