her own nature to believe it could be curbed entirely. The idea that Max might expect her to behave as most other men seemed to want their wives to act was crushing. She had been quite determined not to embarrass or upset him, but to be put aside… to be told to stay at home like a good girl while he sorted things out….
Oh, Max.
She saw Max brace himself, no doubt awaiting her indignant riposte to his words, but Phoebe could only feel sorrow and said nothing. Last night, when they had kissed, it had felt so right… so perfect and wonderful, and she had been filled with joy to have discovered what it was that her parents had found in each other. She had finally understood all those secretive, longing looks, and the little touches that passed between them when they believed they were unobserved. Yet now, her certainty wavered, and all her doubts returned at once.
“Phoebe, love, please, don’t look so disappointed. Surely you did not expect to challenge Alvanly to a duel or steal the painting from him at gunpoint?”
“Of course not! I’m not a silly child, Max,” Phoebe retorted, swallowing down the hurt of his words.
“I never said you were,” Max returned, sounding somewhat impatient. “But what kind of husband should I be to allow you to confront a man who tricked you into a crime and then left you gagged and bound? Please, love. Let me deal with it and see what can be done, and then I shall take you to Paris and we’ll have a splendid time. What do you say?”
Phoebe took a deep breath and forced a smile. She did not want to argue with him, not here in the street, at least.
“That sounds lovely,” she said, though there was no enthusiasm in the words.
It did sound lovely, only now she felt that Max would be there—not as her friend, her lover, sharing in the excitement and adventure with her—but as her chaperone, ensuring she did not come to harm. Her Papa had always protected her and made her feel safe, yet he had trusted her, too. He had listened to her and included her in his plans, and had even taken her advice.
“Now, then,” Max said, “I think perhaps we should discover where the diligence sets down its passengers. If Alvanly is keeping a low profile, he may well have travelled that way. Maybe someone will remember him.”
Phoebe nodded, only half attending. “Yes, though he used his real name back in Boulogne and, if he did use the diligence, he might have remained aboard and gone directly to Paris. It travels through the night, you know.”
“True, but we must start somewhere. Unless you have a better suggestion?”
Max looked at her gravely and she knew he was trying to make amends, aware of her having grown quiet, but she was too distracted to think of a better alternative, even if there was one. Her happiness had been diminished, and she could not decide if it was her own fault for having unrealistic expectations of him, or his for having too little faith in her.
Perhaps they were both to blame.
Either way, she was unsurprised when he found the busy coaching inn where the diligence stopped and sat her in a quiet corner whilst he went to make enquiries. Too low in spirits to protest, she sat meekly without a murmur of complaint and wondered what on earth she ought to do.
Phoebe was sunk so deep in her own thoughts she did not at first attend when she heard a vibrant burst of feminine laughter, and only when a flash of vivid pink silk caught her eye did she look up. A stunning woman dressed with as much flamboyant style as Phoebe herself, and with a ravishing tumble of red curls, was walking out of the courtyard with a stream of young men trailing behind her. They carried an assortment of trunks and hat boxes between them, struggling under the bulk and the weight of the contents.
“Mais, Vicomtesse Kline,” a man protested, waving a piece of paper and running after her. “We kept your luggage until you could come and retrieve it as you asked, but now you must pay your bill, maintenant, s'il vous plaît!”
That luxuriant wicked laugh came again, fading as the woman disappeared around the corner.
“Oh, but my husband will deal with it when he arrives,” the lady said, as the last flash of pink silk left the courtyard feeling a