To Dance until Dawn - Emma V. Leech Page 0,33
or she’d be ruined anyway did not seem to quiet the voice that told him he was being a reckless fool. That voice was quite eloquent about the reception he would get from Lucian when they returned home. Both he and Phoebe had written letters to her parents, and Max had made many promises in his, which he prayed might be enough to stop the marquess from slicing him up one tiny sliver at a time.
He looked around as Jack gestured to him from outside the carriage and got out quietly, not wanting to disturb Phoebe.
“Any sign?” he asked.
Jack scowled and shook his head.
“Not a sniff of the shiftless cove,” he grumbled. “Reckon he must have changed his mind and arranged passage with smugglers or something of the sort for he’s not booked on any of the regular crossings. Stands to reason he’d not want to leave a trail to follow.”
Max nodded, disheartened but unsurprised. “Ah well, it was too much to hope for, I suppose.”
“You’re certain he’ll head for Paris?”
“Yes.” On this at least he felt confident. “I doubt Alvanly has connections of the sort to get the best price for the painting, but there are dealers enough in Paris with access to the kind of wealthy buyers who won’t ask too many awkward questions. He’d not be able to sell it here in time before he was caught, not now.”
“Right, then. Paris it is,” Jack said. Max went to turn away, but Jack laid a meaty hand on his arm, stilling him. “You’ll marry her?”
Max nodded.
“Not just for duty though, eh?”
For a moment Max hesitated, wondering what exactly to say, but it was clear this fellow would walk through fire for Phoebe and it would be wise to discover what it was Lucian saw in the man so, he took a risk.
“I’d have asked her anyway, if I’d thought there was the slightest chance she’d have me.”
“You don’t care she’s illegitimate?”
Max scowled at him, something hot and angry unfurling in his stomach. “I do not.”
“Ah,” Jack said, nodding thoughtfully, and Max wondered if perhaps that was approval in his eyes. “Does the lord know?”
For a moment Max thought he was asking if God was aware of his feelings, and stared, a little taken aback. Then the penny dropped. “Oh, Montagu. Yes. He knows.”
“And he approves?”
Max nodded. “For all the good it does me. Phoebe—Miss Barrington—does not see me as… as a suitor. I believe she considers me too staid and sensible, but—”
“But you’re hopin’ this little lark might help her change her mind.”
Jack stared at him: a piercing, somewhat unnerving scrutiny that made Max’s ears feel hot. He cleared his throat.
“Yes,” he said, a touch defiantly. “I suppose I am.”
The stare continued for a moment longer, and then Jack pursed his lips. “Right ho, then. We’d better get moving. They’ll be boarding soon.”
Max nodded, once again with the slightly unsteadying feeling of having passed some kind of test. He only hoped he didn’t fail one of them, especially whilst they were at sea. Jack looked well capable of pitching him overboard if the mood took him.
He climbed back into the carriage and closed the door quietly, but Phoebe stirred as the carriage moved forward. She blinked owlishly in the dim light, then her gaze settled on Max and her eyes opened very wide.
“Oh, now I remember,” she said, sitting up in a rush. His coat slithered from her shoulders and she looked at it in surprise. “You gave me your coat.”
“I was afraid you might be cold.”
The smile she returned was pleased and a little shy, and quite unlike any he’d ever seen from her before. It struck his heart with the force of a hammer blow.
“That was kind, thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said, somewhat winded still.
“What time is it?”
“Close to seven in the morning. We’re about to board.”
She drew in a shaky breath and it occurred to him that perhaps she was nervous. “Have you ever been on a boat before?”
Phoebe shook her head. “Not at sea.”
“It will be fine.”
“Yes,” she said, brightly, nodding too vigorously to be convincing. “Yes, of course it will, and I’m so looking forward to seeing Paris. I mean, I know we are in pursuit of the painting, and if we catch up with Alvanly quickly, there may be no need to continue, but….”
“We’ll see Paris,” he promised her, wanting to do anything, give her anything, to make her keep smiling at him. It worked, and her delighted expression left him giddy