To Dance until Dawn - Emma V. Leech Page 0,27

looked dreadfully hurt.

“No, tell me,” Phoebe insisted, making him stop with a hand on his arm. “Do you mean Ellisborough?”

“Of course, Ellisborough, who else?” he retorted with a bitter laugh. “He’s always watching us, haven’t you noticed? He gives me these dark glares that promise retribution. No doubt he’s been dripping poison in your ear and telling you what a loose screw I am, too, and not to trust me an inch.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Phoebe said, frowning. “And I make my own decisions about my friends, Alvanly. You know that.”

“You think you do,” the baron replied, a tone to his voice she could not like. “Except I wonder how many others have not been as determined to remain your friend, and allowed him to frighten them off.”

“What?” Phoebe stared at him in alarm. “Ellisborough would never—”

“Oh, wouldn’t he? Then it must have been someone who looked like him that threatened me in that case. He told me to stay away from you, or else, my sweet. The else was quite clearly finding me in a dark alley and teaching me a lesson. He looked positively murderous, I promise you.”

Ellisborough had threatened Alvanly? Phoebe’s mind boggled at the idea. Max? Max had threatened Alvanly. A strange sensation uncoiled in her belly. It was not entirely comfortable, and she did not like it. She did not like the idea that he was manipulating the people around her, either. How dare he? Even her father would not choose her friends for her. He knew she was friends with Alvanly, and he trusted her to make her own decisions. But Max….

Indignation rose with a wave of heat, and a strong emotion she could not identify, but it had the effect of making her want to grab hold of Max and… and… and strangle him with his cravat. The beast!

At least, she thought that was what she wanted.

Her emotions rose in a tangle, hot and uncomfortable, setting her all on edge. Why was Max so often in her thoughts of late, keeping her from sleep, always there with that dark look of disapproval glinting in his eyes?

“Fine,” she said, her jaw so tight with agitation she could hardly get the word out.

“What?”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” she muttered, stalking past Alvanly and down the corridor.

Max had ignored her ever since that scene with the baron, but if he found out about this, he’d be forced to scold her, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and then… then… she’d give him a piece of her mind in return.

It was child’s play to get into the room, even without her lock picks. Her hair pins worked well enough, though a few heavy coils of her hair came tumbling down as a result. The lock was simple and sturdy but well-oiled, and it was a matter of moments before she heard that satisfying little snick. Alvanly beamed at her, and a tremor of unease rippled through her. She was already regretting her impetuous decision, but there was no going back now.

“You really are marvellous,” he said, his admiration apparently genuine. “You know, if not for your terrifying papa, I think I could fall in love with you.”

“How gratifying,” Phoebe said dryly as she walked into the room.

All she wanted now was for this to be over and done with so she could get out of the baron’s company. She wanted to find Max instead and ask why he had threatened Alvanly, and why he wouldn’t talk to her anymore. Had she been so awful that he didn’t like her at all now? Her heart sank as she realised she could not discount the possibility. Alvanly hurried to light a couple of candles, and they walked to inspect the painting. Phoebe studied it and shook her head, wishing she could see what was remarkable about it.

“It’s a dingy little thing.”

Alvanly was staring at the painting with awe, which Phoebe thought odd as it was small and unimpressive. It seemed to be grubby, and the paint was all cracked, but the baron was gazing at it in wonder.

“Do you like it?” she asked, surprised to discover it was to his taste.

“Oh, I do,” he said, an odd note to his voice. “I like it tremendously.”

She stared at the painting again, trying to see what had so captivated him. “How strange, I’d never have thought it was—”

Phoebe turned too late as a large hand covered her mouth, the other holding her arms pinned to her chest. He was far stronger than