Instead of walking back up the road they’d previously used, Max slipped between two buildings and they maneuvered their way through narrow alleys, away from the direction Rylan had taken. He hated hiding and running from the man, or anyone for that matter. Everything in him screamed to stand up, fight, and give Rylan and his henchmen what they deserved, which was a good beating. But Rosemary was with him, and Max feared her being harmed in the process. Though Max was confident in his skills as a fighter, and when shooting his bullets always found their mark, Rylan and his thugs fought dirty, and Max knew that he’d lose in the end, thus leaving Rosemary even more vulnerable.

  Was the sword worth this? It probably wasn’t even the sword of Joan of Arc. It was something he and Rosemary had agreed upon. But the possibility that it just might be niggled in his belly, and Max needed to know for certain. Which meant, he’d continue to skulk through dark alleys, seeking the prize, while trying to keep Rosemary safe and out of sight of Rylan and his men.

  He’d feel much better if Rosemary were safely tucked away in Cornwall, or on her way to Athens as planned, but he knew without asking that she’d reject any request from him to stay within the safety of Westbrook House. Further, she’d likely blister his ears for even making the suggestion. So, here they were, and he needed to determine what they did next.

  As they drew near the pawn shop, the voices on the street grew louder.

  Some were talking about the three men and then someone mentioned a man and woman who’d been there. All of them being strangers, not locals, and perhaps they were linked somehow. Murmurs and agreement that someone needed to watch out for any of them to be held for questioning. Then there were brave declarations that when questioned, they’d be sorry they’d ever brought trouble to the area.

  Max nearly snorted. They were in a rookery full of thieves and cutthroats, where murder was almost a daily occurrence, and they were going to punish them?

  Or perhaps they just didn’t like strangers committing the crimes, but it was acceptable enough for the locals of this little pocket of London. But, as those gathered would now be looking for Max and Rosemary, he didn’t dare draw near and kept in the shadows as he turned down another alley.

  This was his fault. He shouldn’t have paid for silence and would not make that mistake again. He’d only pay for information and if Rylan tracked them, then so be it. He and Rosemary already knew what to expect, and the shop owner had been innocent.

  It angered him that there were people in the world like Rylan that others needed to worry about and avoid, and as much as he hoped that the men who ran after him would catch and arrest them, Max knew that they wouldn’t be so lucky. The streets in the rookery were like a rabbit’s warren and easy to get lost in. Then again, Rylan was a stranger to the area as much as he and Rosemary, whereas the men who had given chase lived here, so perhaps the luck would be on their side. But, as much as he wanted to hope that they’d soon be dealt with, Max didn’t expect it to happen.

  As they reached a main thoroughfare, Rosemary turned in the direction of the boardinghouse and Max stopped her. “We need to consider where we go next.”

  She paused and looked at him, then nodded. “Keep moving away, in the opposite direction of Rylan.”

  “That is assuming he didn’t find a way back in this direction.” It was hard to tell where he or his men would end up once they finished running.

  “How do you think he knew where we’d be?” she asked as they started down the road, keeping close to the building and their heads ducked. Max even rolled his shoulders again and slouched so that his height wouldn’t be noted. Not that he was overlay tall, just slightly above average, but he wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

  “I’ve no idea. I didn’t see any of them about when we left the boardinghouse this morning. I’d looked out into the street and in the back alley and nobody was lurking about.”

  “It could be by chance,” she offered. “Though that is unlikely, but how else could they know where we were?”

  “We didn’t even know where we were going until after we headed out this morning,” Max reminded her. “It has to be chance, though I hate the idea of luck being on their side.”

  “Hopefully, they’ll return to Clerkenwell to look for us.”

  “And we can visit Fleet Street tomorrow,” Max decided. “But we won’t be returning to the boardinghouse since I don’t know when they first spied us and took up our trail.” It could have been within a block, or it could have been after one of the henchmen saw them coming out of the pawn shop, and because they had no way of knowing, they couldn’t be seen in the area again.

  “Then, where do we go?”

  “Covent Garden. It will be safer, and we might even find lodgings.”

  Max moved from the shadows and hailed a hackney, and once she was safely enclosed inside, Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief, as it was safer to be out of sight with Rylan or his men around, never knowing where they were or when she’d encounter them again. It reminded her of when she was younger, and in school, and the older girls liked to jump out and scare her, Eliza, and Sophia. They only did so because of Eliza’s insistence on the existence of vampires, ghosts, and witches in the area, and so the three of them were teased quite often. This resulted in Rosemary hating any type of surprise, and not knowing when Rylan would show up out of nowhere was worse than fearing an older student lurked behind a corner at Wiggons’.

  Though, in truth, not all surprises were bad, such as when she was on an excavation, digging and uncovered something totally unexpected. But in those situations, she had control. She had none now.

  “At least we are safe until the sword is found,” Max offered.

  “Do you truly believe so?”

  “He knows that we can find it. It’s what we are good at. That’s why they asked the blacksmith about us, and not the sword.”

  Rosemary shuddered. Amasa in Jerusalem and Mr. Barclay at the pawn shop were just two more victims in a long list of people who had gotten in the way of Rylan getting what he wanted, or what Fernsby wanted delivered to him. She and Max were safe because they were followed. What would become of them when they found the sword? What would Rylan do to get it from them?

  “I’m beginning to regret leaving Crius and Cronus behind.”

  Max snorted. “Your Titan guards may be good with their fists, but they’d be noticed. First, they are giants, and Rylan’s men would spot them anywhere.”

  “They aren’t giants,” Rosemary dismissed.

  “They are almost a head taller than I am and I’m above-average height.”

  She sighed. Max was right. There were many things her guards could do but remain inconspicuous was not one of them.

  “Though, for your safety, I wish they were around to offer protection.”

  “Then I’d be of no use,” she argued. “Who would talk to me with Crius and Cronus standing by my side.”

  “Intimidation could be beneficial,” Max chuckled. “Perhaps it would save me some coin.”

  “Then we’d be no better than Rylan’s men,” she argued, then reconsidered. “Except my Titans wouldn’t hurt anyone, but the person being questioned wouldn’t know that.”

  “We’ve been chased. A man we spoke with beaten. We hid in a bloody cupboard, Rosemary. It’s not safe.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and glanced out the window. “A part of my mind keeps asking if this sword is worth being found.”

  “It is,” she answered with determination.

  He glanced over at her, tiredness in his eyes. “Is it truly?”

  She couldn’t believe he was ready to give up. This was not like Max at all. He was usually like a dog with a bone, tenacious and unrelenting when in pursuit of something. They’d barely begun this quest.

  Then another thought occurred to her. “If I weren’t here, but safely on a ship to Greece, would you let the fact that Rylan and his men were around stop you?”

  He turned away from her and glanced out the window again. His jaw tightened as if he were angry or holding back words.

  “If you don’t wish me for a partner, then go on your own and I will do the same.” Rosemary smoothed her skirts in an attempt to put forth a brave front when in truth, Rylan and his thugs did frighten her.

  “That is the very reason we will remain partners,” Max insisted. “We are safe only so long as we haven’t found the sword. If one of us found it, alone, it could go badly.”

  “Not just for me?” she questioned.

  “No,” Max admitted. “I not only worry about keeping you safe, but my neck as well. They are ruthless and there are six in total.” He looked over. “We are but two.”

  At least he admitted to the danger to both of them, and not just the need to protect her.

  “We are better off together.”

  “You are correct,” she finally admitted after a moment. “If we were separated, I would worry about you,” she said, trying to fight off a grin. “After all, you do recall that you needed my rescue yesterday.”

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered as the hackney came to a stop.

  Chapter 14

  “Covent Garden,” he said as he stepped onto a familiar street. He’d spent many an evening here while still a student at Oxford, not that he’d mention such to Rosemary, as his evenings had not been spent in the theatre, but in one of the brothels. There were also gaming hells, but he hadn’t found the same pleasure in games of chance as his friends had.

  “Perhaps we should watch a play.” Rosemary nodded to The Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.

  “It’s unlikely Rylan would look for us there,” Max chuckled. “We can hide amongst the crowd and eat oranges.”

  “Did you know that I’ve never attended the theatre?”

  He thought everyone had at least one time in their life.

  “When I was in London previously, I didn’t make time, and to be honest, sitting in a darkened space for hours while others performed for my entertainment didn’t sound enjoyable or relaxing.”

  “I can’t sit through productions either,” he admitted. He’d forced himself when he was younger, as it was expected. “Truthfully, I don’t fit in well with Society, or I didn’t, as my interests were not the same. I’m not certain I’d know how to carry on if I returned to London. I certainly can’t remember how to dance, nor have I learned to waltz, which I’ve heard is popular.”

  “Scandalous, according to some,” Rosemary grinned. “Gentlemen holding ladies as they twirl. Some matrons are still outraged at such behavior.” She giggled.

  “Have you ever waltzed?” Max asked.

  “Not in London.” She smiled softly as if remembering a time that she had.

  Jealousy punched him in the gut. Who had the honor of having waltzed with Rosemary? Some gentleman had held her hand, had his hand on her waist, and had drawn her as close as propriety allowed, and that man had not been Max.

  Why was he so bloody jealous? This wasn’t like him, and he needed to push such thoughts and emotions to the back of his mind and not acknowledge them.

  “I’ve had enough of rookeries for one day and I’m growing hungry.” They’d not eaten since they’d broken their fast, and it was already past the time they would have lunched.

  “It will grow dark soon and it’s best if we find both food and lodgings before it grows too late to do so.” Max glanced around. “I thought that in the morning we could make our way to Fleet Street since that is the direction the blacksmith gave the thief.”

  “He also told Rylan that he’d sent the man to Clerkenwell,” Rosemary reminded him.

  “Why do you believe the blacksmith would lie to us and not Rylan?”

  Rosemary shrugged, therefore, had no answer for him.

  “I paid him coin and Rylan threatened him physically.”

  “Therefore, he’d be more likely to tell the truth to the person who might come back and harm him,” Rosemary suggested.

  “That is a possibility, however, we already know that the sword was not found in Clerkenwell, and Fleet Street was on both of our lists and near the top.”

  “Tomorrow we visit Fleet Street.” She gave a quick nod. “I’d not realized how colorful London could be. Thieves, cutthroats, rookeries, and here I thought it’s only worth was the Season. I pity those who rarely step beyond a ballroom, as they are missing out on quite a bit of fun.”

  Max glanced down at Rosemary. “Fun?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps not exactly fun, but it is an adventure.”

  “That could see us killed.”

  “Not if we are careful.” She grinned up at him. “Though, I do grow tired and would welcome a warm meal and a soft bed.”

  Max nearly groaned. He would like nothing more than a soft bed, especially after sleeping on the settee the night before. Hopefully wherever they found lodgings for the night they’d have two rooms because not only was the settee uncomfortable, but it was damned difficult to find slumber with Rosemary, dressed only in her shift, sleeping not so far away.

  He’d desired her these past years but had always been able to push it aside, as their interactions did not leave room for anything of a romantic nature. Plus, he kept reminding himself that she was a dear friend of his younger sister, and while that had worked for a short time, it did no longer because Rosemary barely resembled the young girl he’d originally met and was only a few years younger than himself. However, she gave no indication that she saw him as anything other than a rival and sometimes foe.

  Regardless, the situation they found themselves in now changed nothing. Once they found the sword, they’d go their separate ways once again. It was best not to complicate their friendship with intimacy since such would lead to the necessity of marriage, and marriage to Rosemary would drive him to Bedlam within a year. Of that he was certain. Therefore, he must put all desire for Rosemary from his mind and concentrate only on finding the sword.

  He kept her near as they weaved around those who were making their way toward the theatre and young bucks on their way to gambling establishments or brothels as Max tried to find an inn in which they could remain for the night.

  Though the area wasn’t nearly as crowded as it might be during the height of the Season, it was crowded enough that they could blend in and hopefully not be noticed.

  Suddenly Rosemary pulled back and stepped into the shadow of a building. “Are you certain they haven’t followed us.” She nodded to a far corner where one of Rylan’s men stood, glancing about as if looking for someone, which they both knew he was looking for them.

  “It is only one, which means they have not found us. Rylan probably had his men split up and search different areas.”

  “Then no place is safe.”

  “London is large, they’ll not find us.”

  “They will eventually,” Rosemary voiced her concern.

  A hackney pulled to a stop not far from where they stood and Max made another abrupt decision and hurried forward, pulling Rosemary with him. Once the current passengers alighted, he inquired as to hiring the conveyance then opened the door for Rosemary before giving his new direction.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “A place I should have considered earlier, and someplace Rylan, nor his men, will think to look.”

  Rosemary glanced out the window as they drove away from Covent Garden and toward Whitechapel. “Are we returning to Madame LeFante’s?

  “No. The Swan and Two Necks.”

  Rosemary frowned. “What is that?”

  “A coaching inn.”

  There was only one room left at the inn, not that Rosemary minded, but Max seemed rather on edge. Of course, she couldn’t blame him, as he had spent last night on the settee, and his only choice for sleeping tonight was either on the floor or share the bed with her.

  He’d not yet asked, nor had she offered, though the bed loomed behind them, or perhaps it was only in her mind, as they ate supper at the small table and made plans for visiting Fleet Street on the following day. Max had left her alone to enjoy an ale below so that she could have some privacy, and Rosemary took the opportunity to strip down to her shift and crawl into bed so that she’d not need to hide doing so with Max also in the chamber. What she truly wished was for a bath to rinse away the filth collected during their travel through the rookeries. Unfortunately, now was not practical, as the inn was busy, and she’d not want Max to have to linger below for so long to give her the privacy she needed.

  Rosemary lay back and stretched to loosen her tight muscles. The bed was not only soft but large as well. At least large enough to sleep two occupants comfortably, and she considered offering to share with Max. Though, as it grew late, Rosemary wondered if Max intended to retire at all and soon began to drift off when she heard the key in the door.

  He opened it ever so quietly, then shut it in near silence and turned the key. He then settled onto the chair and removed his boots, also making certain that he made no noise. It was obvious that he was trying not to wake her, and if he’d only look in her direction, Max would realize that she wasn’t asleep but watching him. She’d left the lamp burning low so that he didn’t enter a strange dark chamber and thus injure himself.

  After he removed his waistcoat, Max then reached over her and took the pillow not being used and a blanket from the end of the bed and settled onto the floor.

  She rolled her eyes.

  This was ridiculous.

  “You can sleep in the bed, Max.”

  He jerked up and looked at her. “Did I wake you?”

  “I was awake.

  “You should have said something,” he argued and then laid back down.

  “Did you hear what I said.”

  “Aye.”

  “Then why are you on the floor?”

  “It’s not proper.”

  “You’ve no fear of me attempting to ruin you.”

  He snorted.

  “I won’t attempt to trap you into marriage if that is your concern.”

  “My concern is propriety,” he ground out.