“I’ve been pushing my infatuation and attraction away, as I knew nothing could ever come of it,” she admitted. “I’m also not blinded by it either because you are the most aggravating man I’ve ever met. But I’ve enjoyed the competition of who would find an antiquity first, and anticipating when I would see you when we were on the same quest. Of knowing that you would frustrate and irritate me until it was found, but hardly being able to wait until we could share in study of the antiquity once it was in our possession.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve felt the exact same.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “It’s rather ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “My infatuation?”

  “No. That we’ve both hidden the same from each other, sometimes ourselves, because we assumed the other didn’t reciprocate.”

  “I was certain you’d never see me as anything more than your sister’s friend.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of you in such simple terms.”

  “I was afraid to call it love until now. Telling myself it was simply an infatuation meant it was something I’d eventually get over. Love meant…”

  He didn’t let her finish. Instead, Max brought his lips to hers, in the most tender kiss she’d ever experienced. There was no rush or need, but love.

  “I want so much more.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But now is not the time for passion, and I don’t wish to become distracted, though I can easily be when you are near.”

  “I want more too,” Rosemary confessed, but not here. Not now.

  “When we are free of this place, the first thing that I am going to do is make you my wife.”

  “Is that a proposal?” It was just like Max not to ask, but she didn’t mind.

  “If you will have me.”

  She pulled him close and brought his lips back to hers by way of an answer. This time his were not so tender, but filled with need, and when he delved, she joined him in the heat of passion building between them. She always knew, or at least hoped, that it would be this way between them, and if they weren’t currently captives, she’d want to explore him completely. She’d waited for so long.

  Max broke the kiss and pulled away. “Let’s break out of here, so we can escape and then continue what we’ve started.”

  Rosemary grinned at him.

  “However, you will be my wife before I make you mine.”

  “That isn’t necessary.”

  “I don’t want to wake up on the day we are to wed and find that you’ve run off on me. I intend to continue my seduction until then. So that you want me as badly as I’ve wanted you and won’t even consider leaving.”

  “I’d not leave you, Max. Not when I’ve waited so long.”

  “I just hope I’m worth the wait.”

  “Oh, you are,” she assured him, her heart light.

  Now, they just needed to escape this cage, and Fernsby, so that they could finally be together.

  Chapter 30

  Despite their current circumstances, Max felt lighter, freer. For so long he’d denied his heart, passion, and desire. He’d reasoned why he and Rosemary would not suit, and he’d been so wrong. He never imagined that she’d return his affection—love him as well.

  This was further proof that she was wiser than he. She’d been waiting over ten years for him to notice. If only…

  No, he wasn’t going to waste time thinking about wasted time. There was a future before them and Max had even more incentive to make their escape and keep Rosemary safe in the process.

  He took the timepiece from the inside pocket of his jacket. It had just turned midnight, not late or early enough to trust that most of the household slept.

  “We’ve still time. I could continue my seduction, but I’d rather not leave myself frustrated.” Then he glanced around. “Nor is the setting to my taste.”

  “I agree,” Rosemary laughed. “But I look forward to your future attempts.”

  “As do I.” He kissed her again but kept it simple and sweet.

  “What shall we discuss while we wait for our captors to fall asleep?”

  “What were your plans once you arrived in Greece?”

  “Not an antiquity,” she answered even though she’d already told him so. “However, you may have altered my plans.”

  He raised an eyebrow in question. “How so?”

  Rosemary told him of her plans for a home, to which he frowned.

  “You’d no longer travel, seek out antiquities.”

  Oh dear, he thought her ready to settle down.

  “It is a home. A place to rest. Somewhere to keep my belongings and the items I’ve collected over the years. However, I can’t imagine remaining there above a month at a time. Like you, I need to seek adventures. I simply wanted that one place that I could return to, if only for a short time.”

  Max relaxed after she explained, thank goodness, because she feared she may have already lost him if she wished to settle into one place for good.

  “How many belongings do you have? I’ve only seen you with that ugly bag and a worn valise.”

  “It is not ugly,” she defended, though it rather was, and stained, and faded, but served her well.

  “It is,” he insisted. “What belongings?”

  “Nothing on such a scale as what we discovered above-stairs, but there are items that I’d like to have sitting out where I can enjoy them instead of letting them sit in crates in my parents’ home that nobody ever visits.”

  “Then I have a proposal,” he said after a moment. “After we wed, we’ll retrieve your items, and I’ll retrieve mine from my brother’s home, then the two of us will travel to Greece and find a home. After we’ve settled in, we’ll then find a yacht that serves our purpose and sail the islands until we wish to return and sit upon your balcony and view our treasures until we feel the urge or are requested to venture out on another quest.”

  Rosemary sighed. “That sounds perfect.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” he agreed and pulled her close.

  It was a dream Rosemary wanted more than anything and filled her with hope. But, if they did not escape, it would never be, and she would never see Greece again. Or Max might very well die there if he managed to obtain a piece of the cross.

  She’d been frightened when they were first locked in here. Now, she had so much more to lose, and she was terrified that they’d never have their dream.

  At two in the morning, they decided it was as safe as it would ever be to chance their escape.

  He settled next to her, careful not to block what little light filtered in from the torches. She had gotten on her knees and tried the different keys, then fiddled with others.

  The longer it took, the more he feared that she’d not be successful and began making alternative plans to escape.

  He could pretend to agree to travel to Greece and look for an escape once he was away from here. But leaving Rosemary behind in this cell would be torture for them both, and the very idea twisted his gut in knots.

  He also wasn’t confident that he’d be able to make an escape because Rylan would keep a close eye on him, so he’d need to somehow get messages to the people who could help the most. It would be risky, but he had to be prepared to do just that if Rosemary failed in picking the lock and hope that any message he left would bring help to Rosemary.

  “Do you have any paper, or a pencil?”

  “Yes, in my ugly satchel. Why?”

  “Contingency plan. I want all options available.”

  She gestured to her bag, as if giving him permission to look and went back to concentrating on the lock. He’d never looked in a woman’s reticule before, let alone a bag such as this, which contained all manner of items. However, he found no parchment. “You only have a pocket diary.” It was more of a journal of sorts. Leatherbound.

  “You may tear pages from the back.”

  He normally wouldn’t do so, but in this instance, it was necessary, even an emergency if all other plans failed.

  After finding a pencil, he wrote out five similar messages explaining what had occurred, the need to see Rosemary rescued first, where he was going, the reason why, and where Rosemary was being held. Each letter was also addressed to Mr. Demetrius Valentine with the Thames River Police, as he was the only man that Max could think of who could launch a rescue. He’d just folded the last missive, having given up hope that they’d escape from this cell on their own when Rosemary exclaimed. “Finally!”

  He looked up just as she pushed the door open.

  Shoving the letters inside his waistcoat so that they wouldn’t be found easily, he then took the carved knife that Rosemary had purchased from the pawnshop so that he’d have a weapon. Rosemary approached and returned the keys to the oblong bonbonnière, placed it in her satchel, withdrew her kaiken, put the bag over her shoulder and nodded.

  Max gripped his knife, then crept up the stairs.

  Chapter 31

  Her heart pounded so heavily that Rosemary feared that it could be heard, as it filled her ears.

  She remained close behind Max and paused when he reached the door at the top of the stairs.

  He slowly pushed down on the lever, and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief that it was not locked. Escaping from the cell had taken longer than it should, but she also hadn’t picked a lock in several years.

  Soundlessly, Max pushed the door open and stepped into the corridor, his blade raised. He looked one direction and then the other before signaling her.

  Rosemary took a deep breath and joined him on the landing, then followed as he crept down the corridor, stepping lightly and upon rugs when possible.

  The library where they’d met with Fernsby was dark and silent, and she hoped that the rest of the house was as well.

  As Max approached the foot of the stairs leading to the next level, he paused, then carefully and slowly looked up to make certain no one was standing there who might catch them.

  Rosemary assumed it was empty of criminals or servants or anyone else because Max then continued forward, only to stop as he came to the front parlor. Light bled onto the dark floor from within and Max held a hand up for her to remain where she was as he edged closer to the door and peeked within, then drew back and placed a finger to his lips.

  Did he think she’d decide to start conversing with him now?

  It was a precaution and Max didn’t think her so foolish, Rosemary reminded herself.

  She didn’t know if he found anyone within, but assumed a guard slept. She wasn’t going to risk looking to satisfy her own curiosity and followed Max as he silently crossed the entry until they came to the front door. They were almost free.

  He reached out to grasp the handle when Rosemary sensed that they were no longer alone. The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and she wanted to tell Max to hurry and push him out of the house.

  She gripped her kaiken ready to plunge it into the guard if it came to that.

  “Leaving so soon?” Fernsby asked.

  Rosemary slowly turned to find him at the center of the entry, his pistol aimed at her midsection.

  “I don’t sleep well, and given my legs have failed me, my chamber is on this level. Thus, I heard you as soon as you opened the door from the cellar.”

  They were silent. How could he?

  “I know all the creaks of this house. The floors, the doors. It is old and it was easy to track your nearly silent footsteps. When you were not stopped, I realized the useless guard had fallen asleep.”

  Max pulled Rosemary behind him to protect her if Fernsby fired his pistol. It was so like him to attempt to protect her and at the same time do something so totally foolish.

  “You do not need to shield me.”

  “Now is not the time to argue.”

  “Why are you always so stubborn?”

  “I’m not the stubborn one,” he ground out.

  She pushed him out of the way then stepped in front of him, putting her back to Fernsby, and with shaking hands, pushed Max back as her mind scrambled with how to get out of here without injury. Her knife was deadly, but Fernsby was likely to fire before her blade found its mark.

  “What are you doing?” Max demanded. “Fernsby could shoot you.”

  “He won’t. He needs me to force you to do his bidding.”

  “She is correct,” Fernsby said. “Now step away Miss Fairview, and I’ll call for my guards to return you to your cell, and since Lord Maxwell appears ready to travel, there is no reason why you cannot begin your journey now.”

  Rosemary looked up into Max’s eyes and hoped he understood what she was trying to do. “Just one kiss before he goes.”

  She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she used her weight and pressed Max against the door. He shifted and turned her, so that she was against the door, and brought his hand between them and grasped the handle of his knife. She reached behind and grasped the handle of the door. He lifted his head, only a breath away. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  In a blink, Max turned and threw the knife as Rosemary flung open the door and ran, just as the pistol fired. The sequence was so quick that she was certain everything happened simultaneously. She turned, afraid that she’d see Max lying in the entry, dead.

  Instead, he barreled forward. “Run!” he yelled, his arm limp at his side and his hand pressed against his shoulder, blood dripping from his fingers.

  She didn’t need to be told a second time and rushed for the road. They didn’t have time to find a carriage. They needed to flee this place. Thank goodness it was dark, and the moon only a sliver, as it would be easier to hide from Fernsby’s men. The pistol shot must have awakened them, and they’d soon be in pursuit.

  “The trees,” Max called, and she veered to the left. As soon as she was within the shelter, she turned and watched Max as he hurried forward, except he wasn’t running as quickly as he should, and his steps were unsteady.

  She hurried forward, afraid that he’d collapse before he made it to her side.

  “Go back,” he cried, but his voice was weak, and Rosemary pressed on until she reached him, then placed an arm about him, supporting him to shelter. There he collapsed behind a tree.

  “We can’t stay here,” he said in a hushed tone.

  Rosemary first checked his shoulder. There was a bullet hole in the front, but not one in the back, which meant that it was lodged there. Taking a handkerchief from her bag, she pressed it against the wound, but it did little good as it was soaked in a matter of moments.

  Max was in no condition to run, or even walk from this place.

  He grasped her hand and tightened his grip. “You must go for help.”

  “I can’t leave you.” What if he died because she wasn’t here to tend his wounds? What if Rylan and his men found Max and killed him?

  “It serves no purpose if we are both caught,” he whispered.

  “It serves no purpose if you die,” she retorted.

  “I promise we will see Greece, but that will only come to be if you run for help now.”

  She didn’t want to leave him. What would happen if she weren’t there to protect him?

  Rosemary glanced above his head and around the tree. Nobody had exited the house, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t soon. In fact, she was rather surprised nobody had come after them yet.

  “The stables,” Max whispered.

  She blinked down at him “Stables?”

  He nodded to the left. “They are there. Take a horse.”

  “A horse?” Was he speaking nonsense?

  “Have you not ridden a horse?”

  “Not since I was a girl.”

  “If I can ride an elephant, you can ride a horse.”

  She glanced back at the manor again. Still no one, then to Max’s wound. He was losing a lot of blood.

  “We need to hide you better, then I’ll go.” They were behind the first tree off the drive, a child could find him.

  “We don’t have time,” Max ground out.

  “We have enough. Nobody has come out of the manor yet.”

  Max frowned. Apparently, he found it as odd as she, but at least he allowed her to help him to his feet. They moved further into the thicket, and she let him rest again.

  “Now go, and don’t look back.”

  “One last thing.” She pressed her kaiken into his hand and hoped that he wasn’t too weak to use it if found.

  “Take it. It’s useless to me.”

  She stared into his eyes, not certain she should leave him unprotected.

  “In my state, it would like be used on me, I’d rather have you with a weapon.”

  He was weak and would be unable to put up a fight and grew weaker by the moment.

  “Take it and go,” he ordered.

  Rosemary leaned forward and pressed her lips to his before she pulled away, stood, and sprinted for the stables.

  Inside were nearly a dozen horses, and she sought one that she thought she could mount. For being an English miss, she knew little about horses and couldn’t judge which would be the quickest, or easiest to manage.

  “Hey! Who are you?”

  Rosemary grasped her kaiken and slowly turned and nearly pulled back in surprise. He was only a boy, but she’d threatened him nonetheless. “Saddle the fastest horse and be quick about it.”

  He gulped, his eyes growing large as he stared at the sharp blade.

  “Now!” she ordered. “I don’t have time to waste.”

  “Yes miss.” The boy hurried to the first stall and took out a black horse. If she knew anything about horses, she’d know what kind, but it didn’t matter. So long as it got her to help and to safety.

  The boy grabbed a saddle and Rosemary inched her way to the stable entry to keep an eye out for Rylan and his men. Why hadn’t they come after them?

  “Here you go, miss.” He led the horse forward.

  Rosemary took a deep breath then maneuvered to its side and hoped that she remembered how to get on the thing and how to ride.

  She did manage to mount, and get her feet in the stirrups, after the boy adjusted them for her. Her skirts were bunched, but there was little she could do about exposing her limbs since apparently there were no side saddles about.