“Because you assume I’ve never had a lover.”

  Max didn’t speak, nor move for the longest moment, then drew the blanket up to his shoulder and rolled to his side, putting his back to her.

  “You may sleep on the other side of the bed. I will not attempt to seduce you. I’m much too tired, and I have no fear of you attempting the same.” He hadn’t even attempted to kiss her when he’d had the chance, so he wasn’t going to initiate anything more intimate.

  Rosemary had begun to believe she’d imagined his focus on her lips this morning, and no matter how much she wished for more, it was not meant to be, which meant even if he did get into the bed, he’d probably cling to the other side for fear of touching her.

  “Bloody hell,” he mumbled.

  “Really, Max, there is no need for you to be uncomfortable.”

  He turned onto his back. “Are you just making these claims because you feel bad that I am on a hard floor?”

  “Would any miss lie about her loss of virtue having never been married?”

  “Bloody hell!” he grumbled again.

  “You stay on your side of the bed, and I’ll stay on mine. We’ll sleep well and find the sword tomorrow.”

  Rosemary did feel bad that he’d endured one night of poor sleep and there was really no reason why he must suffer another. If it were anyone else, she’d not make the offer. But this was Max, and on a good day he found her mildly irritating, so she had no fear that he might attempt intimacies. However, if he did, she wasn’t so certain she’d deny him.

  “Really Max. Do you wish to suffer another uncomfortable night?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  Rosemary sighed. “Very well.” With that, she reached over and turned down the lamp. If he was miserable tomorrow and sore from the hard floor, he had only himself to blame.

  Chapter 15

  Max couldn’t sleep, and not only because the floor was uncomfortable, but also because he was all too aware of Rosemary resting comfortably in the bed.

  Had she truly had a lover in the past?

  Certainly, she was lying to him. If not with her two titan guards, she had been under the care of her father. Then again, it wasn’t like they’d spent these past years constantly together either. Sometimes they went months without seeing each other. Had she encountered someone during those times they were not in the same city or village?

  But to take a lover…it was unfathomable.

  What else did he not know about her?

  If it was true, then she most certainly had been seduced, and before she knew what the blighter was about, it was too late. It might have even happened when she was younger, not long after she left the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies. Max knew how sheltered those students had been before being returned to their families to face their first Season. It was likely Rosemary met a rogue, and given she’d been such an indecisive and easily influenced miss, she’d been taken advantage of by the lowest of all scoundrels.

  Then he recalled her hesitation when he asked about her first Season, in how it had been short, and then her parents took her to Egypt. She claimed she had few regrets and admitted that it wasn’t missing the Season, and he now wondered if that was when she’d met her seducer—possibly at a ball—who recognized her vulnerability. Her parents would have had no choice but to take her from London, as such happened to ruined misses every year, but instead of the country to live quietly, they’d taken her to another continent.

  Anger rose and Max grew tense. If he ever learned the name of the blighter, he’d tear him from limb to limb. There were few he despised more than gentlemen who ruined misses and ladies, especially when it was solely for the sport of it.

  Yes, that must have been what happened and must be why she’s traveled instead of attending Seasons in search of a husband. Undoubtedly, she saw herself unmarriageable, which was a ridiculous notion that Society put into the heads of misses. Though, there was a good reason for wishing a wife to be chaste if one was in need of an heir because a gentleman must know the child is his, but that is the only reason Max could determine as to why it was so important. Though, if he were to marry, he’d not want to know that his wife had had lovers. However, Rosemary had only mentioned one, which meant she wasn’t in the habit of seducing and being seduced, which further convinced him that she’d been taken advantage of when she was younger.

  It was the only explanation that he could accept.

  However, knowing that she wasn’t the innocent he’d believed her to be, made it more difficult for Max to sleep because the desire for her that he’d been trying to ignore was now most persistent.

  Bloody hell, she should have said nothing and never asked him to share her bed. She did not invite seduction, but simply lying next to her would have made it just as difficult to sleep as it was now.

  Max grumbled, punched the pillow, and rolled to his side.

  They needed to find that sword tomorrow, as he was quite certain he could not endure another night of sleeping with Rosemary. Not if he wished any slumber at all.

  Rosemary wasn’t certain if Max had slept or not, however she was aware of his grumbling and deep sighs, as well as his rolling from side to side as if he were trying to find a comfortable position. His disturbed sleep had disturbed hers.

  He should have slept in the bed, then they both would have had a restful night.

  At least, that was the lie she told herself.

  She would have found it as difficult to sleep with him in the bed. It was bad enough that she was aware of him in the chamber, beside her would have been impossible.

  So often she wondered what their relationship would be if they’d first met on an excavation. Would he see her differently? Would he find her desirable?

  It was an answer that Rosemary would never have because she had first met Maxwell Trent when she was all of thirteen while she was visiting in their home, a guest of Sophia’s. She’d been taken with him then, a youthful infatuation that she kept to herself and didn’t dare mention to her dearest friends, Eliza, and Sophia. As for Max, he barely noticed she was about. In the years that followed, and while Rosemary was still a student, he found her, Sophia, and Eliza bothersome and not much more than children, which nearly crushed the soul of a sixteen-year-old. When they’d encountered each other at an archaeological site in Egypt, when she was all of eighteen, Max treated her no differently than he had before. It was then that Rosemary was determined to persevere and outgrow her infatuation as she matured and began to experience adventures of her own.

  Or she’d thought she’d outgrown her attraction until they met once again during the Babylon Excavation. He was then five and twenty, and she’d reached the mature age of two and twenty, however, he saw her no differently than he had when she was a student.

  It was for the better, she argued with herself, as she didn’t wish to be married or tied to a home but longed to continue her travels. Max was the type of gentleman who had clear expectations of how a woman should behave. To him, she needed a keeper for her own protection and such would drive her to madness had they been anything more than rivals.

  Still, despite the years since she had first met Max, her attraction, desire, and longing hadn’t diminished, but matured. At sixteen, in her innocence, she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Maturity had her desiring so much more. Perhaps that was why she’d admitted to having a lover in the past. She had wanted to shock him, but she also wanted Max to see her differently. To forget she’d ever been that innocent sixteen-year-old who had been bothersome, but a woman who had desires of her own. Though, it was unlikely he’d see her as such because gentlemen had certain expectations of women. Either they were innocent and in need of protection, married and thus could not be pursued, or a light skirt. She was none of those, yet gentlemen could not comprehend a woman who would engage in intimacies for her own pleasure and enjoyment without being seen as ruined or a harlot. Yet, men could visit any brothel they wished or keep a mistress and nary a word was said, nor was judgement cast upon their good name. It was simply unfair.

  Rosemary eventually did sleep and when she awoke, the room was bright, and Max was gone. She assumed he was below, perhaps breaking his fast, because he wouldn’t leave her to go off on his own in search of the sword. Of that she was certain.

  After dressing in what she’d worn the day before, Rosemary made her way to the common room, quite crowded with travelers, but she didn’t see Max within.

  Irritation rose. She didn’t really think that he’d go on without her, but now reconsidered.

  After tying the ribbons of her bonnet, Rosemary stepped outside to a loud, filled courtyard. Carriages and coaches were being loaded with people eager to be on their way. She too was anxious to get her day started, except did she do so without Max?

  Where the blazes had he gone?

  “Did you think to leave without me?”

  Rosemary turned to find Max approaching from the direction of the mews.

  “I thought you had gone on without me,” she defended.

  “Would I do such?” He grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  How was it possible that he was in a fine mood after he’d slept poorly? Her frame of mind certainly wasn’t pleasant, and Rosemary blamed her current irritation on the blue-eyed devil before her.

  “I had hoped not, but when I could not locate you, I assumed you had changed your mind about us working together.”

  He frowned. “I’d not leave you unprotected.”

  Rosemary rolled her eyes as more irritation settled into her bones. It was all well and good that he wished to protect her, even though it was hardly necessary, but it was frustrating that she was nothing more than a partner.

  Blast. Why did they have to be searching as partners? This constant companionship renewed the infatuation of her youth, making Rosemary all too aware of how much she desired him.

  Why couldn’t she find him irritating and infuriating? Instead, she wanted more, and the only way to return to a place where her infatuation was buried was if they were separated.

  Except, she did find him irritating and infuriating, but she also wanted him.

  Blast!

  Chapter 16

  Max had risen at dawn, not certain how much sleep he’d managed to get, only knowing that when he did drift off, his dreams were of Rosemary. Not at an archeological site or holding a relic, but as a lover. His lover. Though quite pleasant, and while he wouldn’t mind such becoming a reality, one did not take a miss like Rosemary as a lover unless one wished to marry. It didn’t matter if Society would deem her ruined, she was still a miss, from a good family, who did not prostitute herself, and he could not in good conscience make her his without the benefit of marriage. He’d be no better than the reprobate who had seduced her in the first place.

  Therefore, Max forced all desire from his mind, and set about making plans for the day. Fleet Street wasn’t so far away and what he learned from the area was that it wasn’t so much a rookery as he’d believed, though one must watch for pickpockets. Though in truth, there were few places in London where one didn’t need to be on guard for such mischievous thieves.

  “Shall we break our fast and then continue our search?”

  “Yes,” she answered, irritation in her tone. What had he done to earn such? She was the one who had slept comfortably in a bed last night. And, she should have known that he’d not leave without her.

  “If we don’t find it on Fleet Street, where else shall we look?” Rosemary asked after they’d taken a table in the common room.

  Max looked over his list and shrugged. “Truthfully, according to Crisp, if it is not there, it is likely gone from London, though we can still visit Covent Garden. As for the others, Upper Union Court, Saffron Hill and possibly Field Lane, it is unlikely the sword will be found there, or even taken to be sold.”

  “The women at Westbrook House claimed the same.”

  Max shoved the notebook back inside his coat. “Then let’s hope we find it on Fleet Street or in Covent Garden.”

  He settled back and took in the room while he waited for their meal to arrive. “Hopefully we’ll gather more information today. This search has taken long enough.” Though it really hadn’t been so long, given that the sword could be in a hundred different places in London. Then his eyes flickered to the man coming down the stairs. “Is there no place they won’t find us,” he grumbled quietly. Had he slept here last evening, or had he been ransacking their room.

  “Rylan or one of his men?” Rosemary asked since it was her back to the room and she only had views of the few tables beyond them.

  “Rylan,” Max whispered then scanned the common room for his men. They weren’t here, nor had they been outside. He’d watched and noted each person in the courtyard and near the mews, especially those who seemed to be lingering about and had not seen a familiar face. He’d thought they’d avoided them.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked.

  “Wait for me. This time I’m going to be the one who follows.” He rose from his chair as soon as Rylan exited The Swan and Two Necks. Staying in the shadows he noted Rylan trudge across the courtyard until he met a stable hand.

  Alone he waited, not one of his men in sight. Max slipped behind a vacant carriage and watched through the window as Rylan scanned the area until his horse was brought to him. He then mounted and rode away.

  Max had suspected that the men had split to search, whether it was for the sword or them, and now Max had confirmation. It also meant that he and Rosemary would not be sleeping at the The Swan and Two Necks again.

  She’d completed her meal and waited when Max joined her at the table. “We’ll need to find new lodgings.” There were many places one could find a room in London, however, not as many that could accommodate him and Rosemary together, or a place that was safe, but he’d find a hotel. Unfortunately, for the moment, he only knew of places where gentlemen took rooms. They were also nearer to Mayfair.

  Or, if they were fortunate, they’d find the sword today and return to Westbrook House, or book passage to France to return the sword, if it was the true sword of Joan of Arc. It was getting bloody tiring trying to stay one step ahead of Rylan and his thugs when all Max wanted to do was find the sword and be done with this quest.

  “Is he gone?”

  “Yes,” Max answered. “He was alone, and I suspect he has a room here and the reason why we will not any longer.”

  She nodded, accepting the change in the course once again. “It will all work out as it should,” Rosemary assured him. “I’ve no doubt that we will locate the sword today.”

  Max wished he had her confidence.

  Fleet Street was a bustling area of activity, different from the other places Rosemary and Max had visited. Not only were there pawn shops, taverns, and banks, but bookshops, goldsmiths, coffee houses, and an establishment to view waxworks. The area was quite delightful and interesting. If they weren’t intent on finding the sword, Rosemary would be happy to take her time and explore. Such had often been the case when a search had led her to unusual or charming places in the past, and often, she’d return to discover what delights could be found, but only after the antiquity had been located. She attributed her curiosity to the area being in another country and foreign to her. She’d not expected to find a location as interesting in London.

  “We’ve visited two pawn shops already and neither have seen the sword,” Max stated after they exited the last establishment.

  “There are also more,” she reminded him. “Are you getting discouraged?”

  He seemed frustrated, which was in opposition of his mood this morning. Further, it wasn’t like him to be disheartened after such a short time.

  “I’m tired,” he grumbled.

  “That is your own fault. Had you taken the other side of the bed, you might have awoken well rested.”

  He simply glared at her. “I’d not do something so improper.”

  “Really, Max, it is quite ridiculous for you to carry on so. You’ll not ruin me.” Though with him beside her, she’d likely sleep even less.

  “Is it true?” he stopped and asked.

  “Is what true?” Rosemary countered.

  “That you’ve had lovers?” he whispered.

  “A lover,” she corrected. “Yes. It is true.” She waited for him to be disappointed, disgusted, shocked, or at the very least, lose his respect.

  Instead, he narrowed his eyes and stared at her, as if he weren’t certain if he should believe her or not.

  “Does my sister know?”

  “Yes.”

  “She didn’t discourage you?” he practically yelled.

  “She did not learn until after it had occurred,” Rosemary informed him. She should have known that outrage would follow. “How many lovers have you had?” she finally countered.

  Max opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, opened and closed, as if he were a fish gasping for water.

  “If you cannot answer one simple question, why should I tell you anything further about my past?”

  He stammered once again. “Because it’s different.”

  Rosemary sighed. “Yes, I know. There are different rules for the separate genders. I’m well aware.” She’d hoped that he’d be of a more liberal mind, but Max was no different from any other English gentleman. Not that she’d ever told anyone of her past lover, and it was likely nobody in England would ever learn since it had occurred in Italy when she traveled with her parents to participate in the excavation of Pompeii.

  She glanced away, not willing to enter into another argument with Max, as it would change nothing. He’d judged her.

  Anger was good at pushing desire away, and she’d focus on that. All these years of waiting for him to notice that she was now a grown woman had resulted in nothing, and it was time that she was free of this girlhood infatuation.

  At just that moment, light caught on an object in the window. A small dagger and she stepped forward to get a closer look before noting the other items in the store. They were all forms of weaponry. Some new and others old. “It is here,” she said.