Page 11 of Seducing the Knave

But it paled in comparison to the jolt of sudden trepidation that gripped her at the complete change in his manner.

His voice vibrated low in her belly and his gaze felt like icy fingertips drifting over her skin. She had no idea what he was thinking or what he intended right then, but she was suddenly breathless to find out.

He might dress like a gentleman, talk in the cadence of the East End, and grin with a wolfish gleam in his eyes...but in that moment, she sensed something in him far more dangerous than anything she’d ever encountered.

Then he gave a short grunt-like sound in the back of his throat and pushed away from the door. Her hand fell to her lap.

“Since we both know ye’re coming in, I ain’t gonna waste any more time in argument. I’ll see ye inside.”

Without even waiting to assist her from the vehicle, he turned and sauntered away.

Elle took a deep breath, then let it out.

She was going to follow him. Of course she was. She had to. And she’d likely pay whatever he requested to take her to London.

She knew it. And he knew it.

The only obstacle was her damnable pride. She hated having to acknowledge how easily he’d gotten the best of her.

“Miss.”

The gentle address came from the groom who’d taken position beside the door. He’d already lowered the steps and was extending a hand to help her disembark.

At least he knew how to treat a lady.

Scooting forward, she took the groom’s offered hand and stepped from the carriage to the gravel courtyard. From the corner of her eye, she saw Max talking with the driver some distance away near the stables. Ensuring her hood was pulled forward over her face, she started toward the inn’s wide front door with determined strides.

Mouthwatering scents swirled about in the well-lit inn, so it wasn’t entirely surprising to see that the dining room was packed full of patrons. Though Max had said he’d handle any trouble that might pop up—and she was inclined to believe him considering how quickly he’d dispatched of the guards that morning—she was still wary. When a quick look around revealed no sign of Jasper’s men, Elle breathed a sigh of relief.

She was quickly approached by a stout, grey-haired serving woman wearing a white lace cap that was slightly askew over her wiry curls and a harried expression. After casting an assessing glance over Elle’s elegant appearance, including the fine material of her cloak and gown, the woman managed to procure a small table for her in the corner of the room. Within less than ten minutes of her arrival, Elle was seated comfortably with a bowl of savory lamb stew and a tankard of ale in front of her.

She had to admit a warm meal was decidedly welcome just now. And perhaps the ale would help to bolster her fortitude against her relentlessly trying travel companion. Reaching forward, she wrapped both hands around the tankard and slid it closer. Ale was not a drink generally considered appropriate for young ladies, but it was all they could offer. Raising the cup to her lips, she took a tentative sip. It was rich and bitter but also sweeter than she’d expected. After another couple sips, she decided she rather liked it.

“Decided to be reasonable, I see.”

The smug satisfaction in Max’s voice, flowing quietly from right behind her, made her muscles tense. “I didn’t have much choice, did I?”

“No.”

The air shifted around her, growing instantly heated as he grasped the back of her chair and leaned forward. His dark whisper was slightly muffled by her hood but the textured tones still managed to lift the fine hairs on her nape. “It was yer decision to put yerself in me capable hands, princess, which means ye need to trust me to know what’s best.”

The tingling at her nape spread down her spine and all the way to her toes.

“Trust you?” she muttered quietly, her tongue oddly heavy in her mouth. “A frightening concept.”

“Mmm.”

He straightened after the noncommittal reply and stepped to the side just as the serving woman returned to the table.

“What can I get ye?” she asked without preamble.

With her body still humming, Elle watched as Max flashed the harried older woman a rakish smile. “’Ello, dove. I’d love me a bottle of the best gin ye’ve got stashed away and another hearty helping of whatever the lady’s having.”

Something that might have been a smile twitched at the serving woman’s pursed mouth as she gave a quick bob of her head. Once she stepped away again, Max lowered himself into the other empty chair at the table.Leaning back, he crossed an ankle over the opposite knee before sweeping a glance over the crowded room. Again, she noted how his pewter gaze was both swiftly assessing and coldly challenging at the same time and how it made her shiver when it returned to settle back on her.

“I was hoping to enjoy a nice solitary meal,” she noted sharply, trying to reclaim her usual self-possession.

He flashed his teeth, utterly unconcerned with her flash of animosity. “None doing, luv.” He lowered his chin. “Considering yer lack of caution and awareness, I reckon I’ll be needing to keep a close watch on ye, if I expect to get ye to London safely.”

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