“Did you notice anyone suspicious outside the Albany?” he asked as he joined the others.

  “One man, hiding in the shadows.”

  Max nodded, not the least bit surprised.

  “Tell me about him,” Mr. Benedick asked.

  Of course, he’d be the most curious and interested, given his position with the Thames River Police.

  As Lady Victoria poured wine, he and Rosemary told them of their previous encounters with Ryland and his men as well as the ones they’d heard of from others, and the bodies left in their wake.

  “I doubt this Fernsby would acknowledge their actions, or he’d deny that he instructed them to hurt anyone,” Mr. Benedick complained.

  “Further, they’d have to harm someone in England before anything could be done,” Mr. Demetrius added.

  “I just hope it isn’t us,” Rosemary muttered.

  “Is this antiquity so important,” Mr. Demetrius asked.

  Rosemary and Max shared a look before answering in unison, “Yes!”

  Watching Max change from the gown into his shirtsleeves was a bit unsettling, but not necessarily in an unpleasant manner. If Rosemary were to be honest, her pulse did seem to pick up as her body temperature increased.

  What was strange, however, was that she’d seen him undressed to his shirtsleeves and trousers in the hot sun on an excavation, sweat dripping from his brow and had not been affected…Oh, she shouldn’t lie to herself. She’d been very much affected and ignored the yearning, and she’d continue to push aside desire, as it did not belong between her and Max.

  “As neither one of you can return to the Westbrook House or the Albany, where will you stay?” Victoria asked. “I’d offer my home, but I’m certain it wouldn’t be long before they search for Rosemary here, and I’d prefer they don’t find her, or you for that matter.”

  “What of Madame LeFante?” Olivia asked.

  Max choked on his brandy. “A brothel?”

  “Former brothel,” Victoria laughed. “It’s now a boardinghouse.”

  “That’s all well and good for Rosemary, I suppose.” Max frowned. “I’ll find a room elsewhere.”

  “Don’t you think it would be wiser if you and Miss Fairview remained together,” Mr. Benedick suggested. “If this Rylan and his henchmen are so dangerous, it seems to me that you’d be safer.”

  Rosemary slid a look to Max trying to gauge his response. They’d never sought an antiquity together, and she wasn’t certain she wished to start now.

  “Out of the question,” he answered.

  Both the Valentines pulled back in surprise.

  “Why is that?” Lady Victoria asked.

  “She’s reckless,” Max argued. “We’ve never worked as partners, and you may not have noticed but we don’t exactly get on well. I’m also quite certain that she’d not heed my advice and would head right into danger.”

  She most certainly was not reckless! “Need I remind you that I came to your rescue earlier?”

  “I was not in any danger,” he grumbled.

  “Be that as it may,” Olivia interrupted. “I know that I’d feel better if the two of you were together, otherwise I’d worry.”

  “I know I’d feel better if someone was watching my back,” Demetrius commented.

  Max looked over at her, his blue eyes intense, studying her, “Do you think we could work together on this matter?”

  “No,” she answered honestly.

  “Should we?”

  He would be an irritating partner and most likely attempt to tell her what to do, but Rylan and his men did add an element of danger she didn’t particularly welcome. “Partners?”

  “I don’t partner,” he answered.

  “And I don’t follow,” she retorted.

  “Nor do I,” he practically growled.

  “Partners or alone.” She stuck out her hand so that they could shake on it.

  Max studied her hand, then looked up into her eyes as if assessing her, then back at her hand before taking it and shaking it. “Partners, but only until the sword is found.”

  “Well, now that that is settled, I shall write a note to Madame LeFante so that she’ll provide rooms.” Victoria rose and walked to the desk before settling behind it.

  “Are you certain she even has a set of rooms?” Rosemary asked. She’d hate to travel there only to be turned away.

  “She always keeps at least one aside, in the event a woman is in need because of an emergency,” Olivia answered.

  “I wasn’t aware,” Mr. Benedick said. “Though I usually direct women in dire straits to Westbrook House.”

  “Yes, and we thank you on their behalf, but we are out of space,” Victoria said. “However, we know of safe havens throughout much of Covent Garden, Seven Dials, and Cheapside that are temporary in nature and necessary when a woman is fleeing an unpleasant situation.”

  “We are looking for another property, however,” Olivia offered. “A home for women who wish to leave their current circumstances.”

  Violet sanded the missive she’d written then folded it. “Well, the two of you best leave. You want to be in Whitechapel before it grows too late.”

  Max groaned and stood. “Let me prepare a bag and I’ll join you momentarily.”

  Chapter 9

  Partnering with Rosemary was an awful idea, and if he wouldn’t be distracted by worrying about her safety, Max would never have agreed to the proposition.

  “You are going to be difficult, aren’t you?” she demanded as the hackney took them from Mayfair and into Whitechapel. The streets were busy tonight, which he found surprising given it wasn’t during the Season.

  “I was more concerned with you being so,” he retorted.

  “Yes, well, I have a plan to go about locating the sword.”

  “As do I,” he informed her.

  “How do you know that mine isn’t better?”

  “How do you know that mine isn’t?” he countered.

  “Oh, this is impossible.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window.

  This might be the most difficult challenge he’d ever taken on. Not searching for the sword but working with a stubborn woman until it was located.

  They said nothing further until the hackney pulled before the address of Madame LaFante.

  After helping Rosemary onto the pavement, Max paid the driver then gathered their belongings and prayed it didn’t take them too long to find the sword.

  Rosemary had marched ahead and rapped on the door. It was soon opened by a footman. “I’d like to see Madame LeFante,” she announced. “Lady Victoria Westbrook has sent me.”

  “Us,” Max added as he stopped behind her.

  The footman looked them over, then opened the door wider so that they could come inside.

  “Would you please give her this?” Rosemary handed over the note to the footman, which he took, then disappeared down a corridor. The entry was small, but the drawing room to their left was rather large and Max looked in. It ran deep and the length of the house, with several chairs, settees, and tables. He could imagine that when this place was a brothel, this room would have been filled with scantily clad women, available for the right price and to be taken upstairs to a chamber. Opposite of the drawing room was the entry to a dining room, large enough to seat at least a dozen people. How many residents did Madame LaFante have within her establishment? Further, it was likely that this room hadn’t been a dining room in the past, as he couldn’t recall ever seeing one in the houses of ill-repute he’d visited when younger. Then again, he hadn’t been in such establishments to dine either. There could have easily been such a room.

  “I’d assumed bawdy houses were darker, or gauche,” Rosemary whispered.

  “I’m certain she’s redecorated,” Max decided. Though, it could have been this bright then, not that anyone would have noticed after the sun set, the lamps lit, and rooms filled with men seeking intimacy for a short time.

  Max wandered back to the center of the entry. “We need to discuss this wisely and rationally.”

  “I’m being very rational, and my plan is sound and sensible.”

  “Why are you so confident?” he demanded.

  “Because the women at Westbrook House helped me. They know the rookeries, and many were raised within and provided me with locations where someone might attempt to fence such an item or where I might overhear information, such as the tavern we’d both visited.”

  He’d assumed she’d gone to her chamber and mapped out the best route to track the antiquity. Instead, she had questioned those familiar with the rookeries.

  “I obtained my information from a better authority,” he informed her.

  “Why do you always think you are right about everything? I find the women I spoke with highly informative and trust in their judgement.”

  “Lady Victoria was correct.”

  They turned to find an older woman, long after her prime, wrinkled, but still lovely and sharp.

  “Her missive warned of the two of you bickering.”

  “Yes, well, I apologize. It is not the best impression to leave.”

  Madame LeFante simply laughed.

  “I hope you have two chambers that we might use for a short time. I don’t believe even a week will be necessary,” Rosemary explained.

  “Two? No, I only have one.”

  “Oh, that will never do,” Rosemary insisted.

  “I’m afraid it must,” she insisted. “Come along. I’ll show you up.”

  “We can’t share a chamber,” Max hissed. He’d thought having his own bed to sleep in would bring him at least some peace while undertaking this search with Rosemary.

  This would be worse than that night in Jerusalem. He’d barely slept and was all too aware that she slumbered in his bed. Yes, Rosemary aggravated him to no end, but that didn’t change the fact that he found her desirable. So often he’d wanted to kiss her, simply so she’d cease arguing with him. At least, that was the excuse he made to himself, knowing it was a lie since there were several occasions when he’d wanted to kiss her, and not all of them were when they argued, such as when her eyes sparkled when she held an antiquity or she showed her enthusiasm during an excavation.

  Blast! There was hardly ever a time that he didn’t want to kiss her for one reason or another, but he never would, for the same reason he’d not crawled into the bed in Jerusalem. She was an innocent miss no matter how worldly in her travels.

  However, he’d never admit such to her, even if she were the one holding a knife to his throat because she’d never let him forget the admission. Further, her parents were respectable, and she was one of his sister’s dearest friends. Therefore, any action he might take, even a mere kiss, must lead to a courtship, and it was obvious they’d never suit.

  “We aren’t even married,” Rosemary quickly objected.

  “I recognize a married couple when I hear one.” Madame LeFante laughed again. “Besides, Lady Victoria introduced you as Mr. and Mrs. Milton Smythe, and that is who you are as long as you are here.”

  Bloody hell.

  This would not do. It would not do at all.

  She could not be expected to share a chamber with Max for the duration of the time it took to locate the sword.

  It just would not do.

  Madame LeFante paused on the second floor and unlocked the door before handing the key to Max. Of course, it wouldn’t be given to her, and it was unlikely Madame LeFante had a second copy.

  “We break our fast at eight, luncheon at two and supper at seven.”

  “Thank you,” Rosemary murmured.

  “The house is full of guests, most of them women, but we do have a few men, so please keep your quarreling quiet.” Then she grinned. “Or maybe you should get on with putting your differences aside.” She nodded to the bed much to Rosemary’s horror. “It does a wonder to warm the heart and soften the anger.”

  “I’m quite certain that will not be necessary,” Max ground out.

  “Therein may lie the problem,” Madame LeFante tsked and shook her head.

  They couldn’t even share a hackney across town without arguing, so they certainly couldn’t share a bed. One might very well kill the other.

  “I’ll leave you two to get settled.”

  Then she was gone, leaving Max and Rosemary staring at each other.

  “You take the bed,” he insisted.

  “I took it last time and don’t mind sleeping on the settee.”

  “You’re a miss, and I won’t allow it.”

  Rosemary rolled her eyes, already tired of what he would and would not allow. “I’ve slept in worse places.” She wandered to the settee on the far wall. This chamber was rather spacious, as was the bed, and held a table, a chair, and this settee. She stretched out on it. “This will serve me perfectly well,” she announced. In fact, if she lay on her side and bent her knees, as she normally slept, she’d fit quite comfortably.

  “I’ll not take the bed and leave you to sleep as such.”

  “Yes, you will.” Rosemary marched across the room, grabbed a pillow off the bed, and a blanket from the foot of the bed and returned to the settee. There she undid her boots and kicked them aside before curling up to sleep. “It’s quite comfortable.”

  “Why are you always so difficult?”

  Rosemary rose and supported herself on one elbow. “I could ask the same of you!”

  Max planted himself in the middle of the room, feet braced as if he were on the deck of a ship, hands fisted on his hips.

  She rolled her eyes. “Very well. If you need to be chivalrous, take the settee.” Rosemary stood, leaving the blanket and pillow behind. “You’ll find it doesn’t suit your frame as well as it does mine, but as you insist, it is yours. But I don’t want to hear a word of complaint on the morrow when your back is stiff and painful. We’ve too much to do, and I can’t allow you to slow us down.”

  “I don’t complain,” he argued. “Further, I’m not the one likely to impede our search.”

  Rosemary gasped. “You can’t mean to insinuate that I would be the one to slow us down.”

  He settled onto the settee and punched the pillow. “Not that you’d move any slower than I, but there are places where you cannot go, and I’m not so certain I can leave you alone.”

  “Leave me alone?” she squeaked. How dare he! “I’ll have you know, Lord Maxwell, that I do not need your protection, and if Rylan and his men were not out there somewhere, we’d not be together now.”

  He set about removing his boots, tossing them aside. “Yet, here we are, and I suggest we make the best of it.” Max then stood to unbutton his waistcoat and tossed it aside, followed by his cravat and stood wearing only his shirtsleeves and breeches.

  Oh, she wished she could undress to her shift, but that was not possible so long as she was sharing a chamber with Max.

  “Very well,” she said and pulled the blankets back on the bed. It had been a rather exhausting day, and she no longer wished to argue. She had all of tomorrow for that.

  After crawling into the bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin and waited to see if he removed any more of his clothing. He shouldn’t but she’d not complain if he did.

  Blast! He should remain clothed if they were to share a chamber, as would she.

  “You will be here when I awake this time?” he asked into the darkness after she turned down the lamp.

  “I’ll be here.” He was still angry about Jerusalem, and would likely never let it go, but she’d not repeat the action.

  “Max?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think it’s real?” Were they chasing something that was worthless or a replica? Were they putting their lives in danger, risking being harmed by Rylan’s men for something that didn’t exist?

  “I’m not certain,” he answered after a moment.

  “It’s unlikely,” she finally said.

  “I agree, but can either one of us walk away until we know for certain?”

  “No.” It’s what had driven her. The need to know, and if in the end, it was nothing more than an old sword, then she’d be able to walk away, having had an adventure. But, if it turned out to be one of Joan’s swords, it would be a magnificent find, and the reason neither one of them would give up trying to find it for themselves.

  Chapter 10

  Max had gotten little sleep last night. Not only was the settee uncomfortable and too short for his frame, which he’d never admit to Rosemary, but he’d been all too aware of her presence in the bed not so far away.

  He’d finally almost dropped off to sleep after lying there for nearly an hour when he heard her rustling in the darkness. However, it wasn’t so dark that he didn’t see what she was about. Rosemary had gotten out of bed and removed her dress, leaving her shift, and the shadow of her body beneath the linen was illuminated from behind by the moon. Even after she’d crawled back into the bed and under the covers, he’d not been able to find slumber as the vision remained in his mind.

  Perfectly rounded where a woman should be. Soft and curvaceous. A body one could enjoy, explore, discover, and get lost in. That had been his opinion of her often. It was a shame that the two of them did not get along, or their partnership could be quite different, and he’d not be sleeping on a settee. But it was clear that Rosemary wanted no more to do with him than necessary, which currently included hunting for a sword that they were both convinced was not what the soldier thought it to be.

  Yet, what if it was?

  Max eventually dropped off to sleep but dreamed of her. Of him joining her in the bed and lifting the shift. Of discovering the secrets of her pleasure. Of finally giving in to desire and passion for the woman who would one day drive him to Bedlam. Max woke in the early morning hours in discomfort and irritated, and unable to return to his slumber.

  She’d not stirred while he searched in the dark for clothing to wear for the day. In the bottom of his valise was clothing more suited for an excavation, worn and somewhat stained, than appropriate for Society. They were perfect for his purpose of blending in as they searched the poorer sections of London. Leaving off the cravat and waistcoat, Max donned only a worn suitcoat that had certainly seen better days, but it was a fitting match to the trousers and dirty boots. After he was fully dressed, thankful that Rosemary had not awakened, or they might have both been embarrassed, Max made his way down to the drawing room to await the household to awaken. There he reviewed his notes from the meeting that had taken place with Crisp.