Page 106 of Seducing the Knave

Before meeting Max, Elle had never considered how much she might appreciate such things. If someone had asked her just a few years ago, she’d easily have declared herself a creature of sunshine and light and color.

But she’d changed.

She liked the dark places. She’d discovered the beauty in shadows, inspiration in sadness, and strength in uncertainty. She knew a bit more about life now. She knew that good and bad things could happen to everybody. That people could be complicated and confusing and multi-faceted—dark and light and all things in between. And so could love.

Elle had learned that she could choose who she wanted to be and where she wanted to be and with whom. There was no one in the world who could decide that for her. No one who could possibly know better than herself what would make her feel fulfilled and bring her the most happiness.

She didn’t want to step into the role of society darling—a position that had been hers from birth though she’d never once been asked if she wanted it. She didn’t want it.

She wanted choice and autonomy and Max.

God, how she wanted him. Missing him was like a crushing weight that hovered constantly over her chest. She missed his potent gaze and the way he tested her limits. She missed his low laughter and the warm strength in his embrace. She even missed his smirk—that telltale hint that he was trying to deflect from his true feelings.

Rain began to fall outside in slow, fat drops. She turned away from the window, allowing the drapes to fall back into place. The grand bedroom she’d been given was illuminated by a single candle beside the bed and the flickering light seemed to match her inner spirit. Quiet. Restless. Yearning.

She pulled the bedcovers back on the bed and sat down but she wasn’t tired. Sleep seemed an elusive, distant concept. Her thoughts were far too high-spirited and distressing. Her heart was too heavy and determined.

As the scent of night rain drifted through the room, she glanced up to catch a glimpse of the drapes stirring as though disturbed by a breeze.

With a frown, she stood and crossed back to the window. She was certain it had been fully closed. Sweeping the drapes aside, she saw she was wrong. The casement was cracked open. She drew it closed and latched it securely.

When she turned back toward the bed, she knew she wasn’t alone.

It was nothing she saw or heard. It was simply a sense. An acknowledgement deep in her soul. A connection.

Still, she scanned the deeply shadowed room for evidence of his presence. She saw nothing until he chose for her to see him. And then suddenly, as if he materialized out of the darkness itself, he was just there...casually leaning his shoulder against the bedpost.

As if he’d been waiting for her.

When she met his flinty gaze, her heart contracted then leapt to a furious pace. But she forced herself to remain perfectly poised.

He’d sent her here to Wright House. Without even talking to her to ask her preference. He’d decided all on his own where she belonged. She might hope that his presence here now—in her bedroom—meant he’d missed her as she’d missed him. But if that was the case, he’d have to come right out and say so.

His slow grin made her knees weak.

“’Ello, luv.”

His voice melted her bones. She steeled them and lifted her chin. “Let me guess, you were just passing through Mayfair and thought you’d pop in.”

He chuckled. “Would ye believe me if I said I’ve spent more time in this posh neighborhood than me own this last week?”

Her belly twisted and everything she was desperate to say rose up in her throat. How she’d wished every minute of every day that he’d return to claim her as his own and take her back to St. Giles. How she’d had to resist every instinct inside her that demanded she go to him. How she’d questioned her sanity every night and every morning for taking the advice of a seventeen-year-old girl.

Make him cross that line, Caillie had insisted. Make him come to you.

It had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. And as the days had gone by, she’d started to wonder what she’d do if he never came. Would she be able to accept that it was over between them? That it had truly been just a temporary arrangement? Or would she put her pride on the line and go to him?

Seeing him now, she knew the answer. She’d have gone to him. Probably soon.

“I’ve missed ye, luv.” His voice was a smoky whisper. Light and heavy. Soft and dark.

Elle nearly died in want of him. Even in her fury and disbelief at his callous discarding of her, she longed for him. Loved him.

Because she’d sensed that he needed her as badly as she needed him. That maybe...he loved her too.

But if he did, he’d have to choose her. He’d have to decide to let her into his life. To accept all of her and trust her with all of him. If he couldn’t do that...

With that in mind, Elle decided not to respond to his quiet confession. Instead, she gave a gentle shrug and turned to walk slowly toward the vanity table across the room from the bed. Taking a seat on the small bench, she turned her back to Max to look into the mirror.

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