Page 51 of Seducing the Knave

That simply because she was female and young, she couldn’t be trusted to have financial autonomy over her own life.

There was also the added concern about how far Jasper’s poisonous lies about her state of mind had spread. There might not be a gentleman left in London who’d consider taking her as wife.

It was all just so infuriating.

As she paced across the long length of the room for what might have been the fortieth time, a knock startled her out of her growing agitation. She stopped where she was, halfway between the dining table and the doors.

Had Max finally returned?

She refused to analyze the conflict of emotion that rose up at the thought. Her mood was already too tumultuous to add in the confusing aspects of how she felt about her knavish host.

When she opened the door, it was Langworth who filled the doorway, carrying a tray and a bottle of wine. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

“Yer dinner, m’lady.”

He’d taken to calling her such that morning and she hadn’t felt inclined to provide an alternative. She was still Lady Elvina Fowler even if everything that connected her to the name had been stripped away.

After he strode forward to set the food on the table, he held up the wine bottle. “Would ye like me to pour ye a glass of the claret?”

Elle was about to say that would be fine when a bright flash of rebellion streaked through her.

“Actually,” she noted with a tilt of her head and a smile curling the corners of her lips, “I wonder if I might trouble you for a nice mug of ale.”

The man’s heavy-browed eyes widened and his thick jaw dropped open. “Ale?”

“Yes,” she affirmed with a nod, thinking of the rich flavor of the relaxing, heady brew. “I think an ale would be lovely. If you don’t mind, of course?”

The man’s stunned shock lingered even as he quickly assured, “Not at all, m’lady. I’ll be right back with a mug of our best.”

“A nice big mug, Langworth, if you please.”

He gave a deep nod. “Of course, m’lady,” he replied.

Against her better intentions, she stopped him before he left the room.

“Langworth.”

“Aye?”

“Have you any idea when Mr. Owen might return?”

There was a distinctive pause—as though the butler wasn’t sure how to answer—before he replied, “I can’t say I do, m’lady.”

Elle nodded and watched as the large man disappeared through the forbidden double doors. Every time they opened, she tried to get some glimpse of what lay beyond, but it was always shrouded in darkness.

As the door closed with a hard click, she acknowledged that the butler’s reply to her inquiry about Max could be interpreted in more than one way.

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