"I..." Maxine could not put her thoughts together so she chose to say the words that first popped in her head. "I believe you are delusional, milord."

His face merely darkened, forcing Maxine to involuntarily take a step back.

"I am no woman," she blurted out.

He took a step forward and she took another back. He followed her, his stance menacing. "Do you wish me to strip you naked to prove my point, valet?"

Her eyes widened with horror. That would not be a good idea at all.

Bloody tarnation! How was she supposed to get away with this?

Maxine tore her eyes away from Maxwell, desperately looking for an escape.

"Well?" he asked, lips quirked into a devilish smug smile.

Her jaws tightened. She was caught. No, she was doomed! But how? How did he know?

He must have seen the question in her eyes. He tilted his head and forced her eyes to look back at him. "I am a great observer, valet." His green eyes looked her up and down before settling back to imprison hers in an intense gaze. "They may see you as how you try to be, but what I see is what you try not to be."

She wanted him to tell her. What did he see? What gave her away?

But he did not answer her unspoken question. Instead, he roughly grasped her arm and pulled her closer. "Now, tell me why you are here and who you really are."

Maxine swallowed and craned her neck to escape his murderous gaze. "No one you ought to bother with," she gritted out.

He let out a dry chuckle. "Bother with," he said. His smile disappeared and Maxine went cold once again. "You dress up like a man, enter my brother's estate, eat his food and serve him every day. Now, how do you suppose I ought not to be bothered by you?"

She pulled at her arm but he would not let her go. "I do not have plans that concern you or your family, milord. Believe me when I say that—"

"I do not easily believe anyone, valet." He twisted his hand and she flinched in pain. "Now tell me why you are here. Who sent you?"

"I came on my own."

"Who sent you here?" he repeated harshly.

"No one!" she shouted back, planting her free hand on his chest to push him away. "Let me go at once." But he was as sturdy as a rock.

"You dare order me?"

"No, I dare oblige you, milord!"

"Should I drag you to the nearest Town Guard? Surely you would know where that will land you."

"I am not who you think you believe me to be, milord."

"Ah, so do I truly have to strip you naked and prove my point?"

"Would you dare strip a woman?" she asked, voice shaking.

Her question, in a queer way, must have rendered him speechless.

"Or would you dare strip a man? Either way is wrong and you shall find yourself in trouble more than I will," she added when he did not offer a reply. "You cannot prove anything, milord, for I shall not be stripped, nor does the law allow it! And if it is true that I am indeed a woman, I have every excuse to be here as no one—not anyone—ever asked me my gender, nor have I verbally acknowledged anything." She forced a smile on her lips. "That is, if I am truly who you believe me to be."

His eyes glinted with fury and he narrowed them down at her. "Wait until I—"

Maxine opened her mouth to interject but the door to the parlor suddenly flung open, stopping Maxwell's words all the same.

"Max! Good that you are here!" a familiar female voice boomed around the room.

"This makes matters easier then. Mother was quite adamant, see?" another female voice added.

For a moment, Maxine and Maxwell stood stunned and cold, facing each other with Maxwell's back directed at the intruders.

Maxine was almost shivering with anticipation. What was he planning to do?

Before she knew what was happening, Maxwell pushed her away none too gently and whirled around. "Ysabella, Emma," he said in the same menacing voice. "Whyever are you here?"

"Who is—" Ysabella started but Maxine jumped to her feet when she realized who was in the room. It was Ysabella! She quickly bent her head down and rushed toward the door in haste. She caught a glimpse of blue and green skirts when she passed the two ladies. "Who was that?" she heard Ysabella ask when Maxine was finally out of the door.

She dared not look back, nor did she dare stay to hear what Maxwell had to say.

She had to leave.

Now!

*****

But why would she leave? Why would she when everything she had said to Maxwell in the parlor was all true? He could not prove anything.

But he might tell Nicholas.

And what if he did? She did not do any crime, did she? She would not land in prison if Nicholas found out.

Would she pack her bags and go away with no money? Or should she stay and wait for things to happen according to Maxwell's next course of action?

If she left, she'd have to find her way to Willowfair poor as a beggar. If she stayed, there could merely be two possible things that might unfold:

One, she'd have to leave as Nicholas would definitely kick her out of his estate.

Two, Maxwell might keep this to himself for a while, giving her more time to prepare for a journey to Willowfair.

His threats of taking her to a Town Guard were frail for she had done no crime. In fact, her horse got stolen and Maxwell Everard had assaulted her in more ways than one, making her the victim here.

Ah, but she lied to them. But that was no crime, was it?

The door to her room burst open and Albin walked in, frowning. "Why are you here?"

"I—I think I am not feeling quite well," she lied. Yes, lying could not be a crime, really. It was simply wrong, a matter she would have to pay for later.

Albin looked at her with concern. "Have you taken a tonic?"

She faked a cough. "I believe I must, yes."

Albin sighed. "Very well," he uttered, nodding. "We cannot have you sick. I shall call for Fanny to concoct a tonic for you. Do you have a fever?"

"No," she said.

"Good, then. Rest for the rest of the day, Max."

Feeling guilty, Maxine nodded and dragged herself to her bed.

Albin left, closing the door gently.

Should she pack or should she not?

*****

Maxwell looked out through the window of his carriage with a frown on his face.

If he was correct, the valet had not left the estate, a matter he had expected her to do so. He had been waiting near Nicholas' estate for nearly two hours now from the moment his sisters left, but there was yet no sign that the woman was intending to leave.

That, of course, presented more questions.

Did she stay because she was not guilty of anything, or did she stay because she knew he would take it that way? Worse, did she stay because she was correct and he was merely delusional?

But he could not be. He knew a woman when he saw one and the valet was definitely one!

He sighed and leaned against his seat. He would have to stay here until the wee hours if he had to. If she did try to escape, he would be right behind her.

But mayhap it was better that she stayed. He'd have more time to find out more about her—why she was here and who told her to be here.

*****

Maxine was surprised when the door to her room opened and Nicholas walked in.

"Milord!" she said, jumping out of her bed. She looked for Albin but the man was not around. "Do you need anything, milord?"

Nicholas had a frown on his face. "Albin relayed that you are sick."

She cleared her throat. "Simply not feeling well, milord."

"Not good, not good," he muttered under his breath.

"I know, milord. But I believe I shall feel better by the morrow. Fret not, milord."

He took a long breath as he took a good look at her. "You look horrible."

Probably because I feared that your insane brother had spilled my secret, she replied in her head. By the look of Nicholas now, it seemed that Maxwell did keep his suspicions to himself after all. She let out a small sigh of relief before saying, "I shall be better, milord."

"It is bad that you are sick. I do intend to take you with me to Willowfair next week—"

Maxine's eyes widened. "Willowfair?" She jumped to her feet with excitement. "When, milord? When do we leave?"

Nicholas paused and laughed at her reaction. "Goodness, lad, do not be utterly excited. I dread the moments I spend in Willowfair if you must know, but I have to go as part of my responsibility to my family. We have been invited to the Macy ball, one of the largest in Willowfair, and I could not simply say no." He paused for a while to roll his eyes. "My sisters had made certain that Max and I do not miss the tedious ball, an order that obviously came from our mother."

"All the more reason why you need a valet, milord!" she said, grinning from ear to ear. "I shall prepare your things. Simply bid the words and it shall be done."

Nicholas waved his hand. "Do it some other time. For now, do rest and please, lad, do bloody take care of yourself. You have, at the very least, a fortnight's worth of luggage to carry!"

"A fortnight?"

"Yes."

"You shall stay longer in Willowfair?" she hopefully asked.

"No, but we have to travel to Devonshire before we proceed to Willowfair. Benedict, our eldest, cannot attend the Macy ball as he does not wish to make his newborn babe travel the long journey. I need to discuss important matters with him before the Macy ball."

Maxine nodded. "Very well, milord."

Nicholas nodded and before she noticed her face flushing because he went to see her on his own volition, out of concern, he was out the door.

Maxine shook her head. No, she did not fancy Nicholas Everard. She could not! She'd be gone soon. She'd find her mother and she'd go back to Theobald where she belonged.

*****

Breakfast the following morning was quite a series of surprising events for Maxine.

Molly asked if her trip to the library had been successful to which she replied, "I am afraid not. They require one to have a card. I do not have any."

"So does everyone else here," Albin said while his mouth was filled with buttered bread.

"I do have one," Oscar announced. "I could lend it to you."

Everyone snapped their heads at the direction of the butler. Maxine's jaw dropped, unable to say anything.

"Why are you looking at me as though I have grown a pair of horns?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, Oscar," Molly said, "we are looking at you because we had always believed you do have horns."

He butler's eyes narrowed.

"Which is not the case at the moment, that is," Molly added in haste. "You will truly lend your card to Max?"

Oscar turned his eyes on Maxine. "If there is one thing I do appreciate, it is one's desire to learn and the library is the best place for that."

Maxine swallowed her food. "Thank you, sir. I shall take care of your card—"

"And return it at once this afternoon."

"This afternoon? But I cannot go out and—"

"I will be giving you two hours to go to the library. I have books I wish for you to return on my behalf."

Maxine dropped her bread on the plate. "Can I go now then, sir?"

Lottie chuckled. "I have never seen anyone so eager to go to the library before!"

Oscar sighed. "It is because you never really had the passion for books," he said wryly, making Lottie's face grow scarlet. Before anyone could say anything else, he turned to Max and said, "Be done with breakfast before you rush to the library. But be certain to come back before his lordship is up."

Maxine nodded and hastily finished her breakfast. Oscar was lending her his card of all people! Oscar!

*****

The man behind the desk looked at her with suspicion. "And you say you were asked by Mr. Oscar to look into certain articles because the Lord of Whiston requires them?"

"Yes," she lied with a smile, "and to return these books, of course." She pushed the mountain of books toward the man.

He looked at Oscar's card and studied it with scrutiny. For a man who seemed vehemently bored by his job, he was acting too efficient.

"It is an authentic card, sir," she persisted. "And I would appreciate if you could point me to the copies of the Herald that I have listed down for you." She leaned closer and whispered, "His lordship is not as nice in the morning as you might believe to be, see? And he does not appreciate it when his orders get delayed."

The man rolled his eyes and checked her list once again. "You have asked for nearly five months' worth of articles!"

"No, sir," she said, "I did not ask for them—the Lord of Whiston did."

The man glared at her and stood to his feet. "Follow me," he said, making a sharp turn.

Twenty minutes later, after a series of turns and rows of shelves, Maxine found herself sitting behind a chair, facing stacks of more than a hundred copies of the Town Herald before her. The librarian dropped the last stack onto another with a grunt.

He gave Maxine a fake smile and said, "Enjoy."

Left alone, Maxine squared her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. She coughed as dust from the papers entered her airways.

One could say she was looking for a needle in a haystack. And the dreadful thing was that she did not even know what kind of needle she was looking for!

But she must do this. Where should she start then?

She looked up at the mountain before her once again and her shoulders dropped.

The Macy ball would be the best place for her to find Amelia Trilby. If she could not at the very least find a connection between the woman and her father, the trip to Willowfair might prove to be useless and—

Maxine paused.

"The Macy ball!" she whispered with awe. "Of course!"

Balls almost always followed strict schedules. Like the Theobald weekend parties, big balls such as the Macy's would most definitely be on the same month every year.

"And the Trilby ball," she said, pushing away early stacks of papers that did not correspond to the specific months she was looking for.

In no time, her hands were covered with fine dust, but she finally found articles that talked about the Macy and Trilby balls.

The papers were dated over twenty-five years ago and the library had not been taking care of them well. But as she got used to the fading scripts, she managed to scan through the pages of the gossip sections faster than she had first started.

She leaped in excitement when she found her father's name mentioned on one of the articles.

"Lord Eustace Theobald was seen gracing the famous Macy ball in Willowfair merely two nights past. But it seems, dear readers, that the handsome lord is missing a wife! Where could Lady Theobald be?"

Maxine ignored the tiny pang in her chest. Her stepmother did not deserve what her father did those years ago.

She continued to read more articles where her father's name was mentioned.

"The Trilby ball was once more filled with important guests from all over the Town. Young Lady Amelia Trilby was seen dancing with Lord Eustace Theobald. As whispered to us by a confidante, the two seemed rather chummy. Never had we thought that the Theobalds and the Trilbys were friends!"

Maxine did not find anything more on succeeding articles that placed her father and Amelia Trilby together as companions, but she soon found out that there were more balls and social events that the two were present at the same time, although not together.

"Lord Eustace Theobald seems to enjoy Willowfair immensely. The young lord has been in the town for nearly a year now. Whatever happened to Lady Theobald? A marital estrangement, perhaps?"

"Lady Amelia Trilby graced the opera the previous night, donned in the most beautiful red gown Willowfair has ever seen. She was accompanied by her mother, Lady Trilby. Also in attendance were Lord and Lady Everard from Wickhurst and their friend, Lord Eustace Theobald."

"Lord Eustace was reported to have spent his evening yesterday alone during the ball. Unlike the Trilby ball, he was not seen dancing with anyone. Lady Amelia Trilby, on one hand, had been quite a busy young lady. Her dance card was completely filled with affluent names and she almost never left the dance floor! With the Trilbys being known as a secretive family, Amelia Trilby is proving quite the opposite as a star of this season!"

"We have been informed, dear readers, that Lord Theobald had taken a mistress. Mayhap now this answers our questions why his poor, rich wife is left in their estate of the same name, Theobald."

Maxine need not read further, nor did she have to find more clues as to her father's infidelity those many years past.

She found the connection she needed. They knew each other and had evaded each other's presence on the Herald after an article of them dancing was published. That might indicate naught but innocent interaction, yes, but that might also mean two people being utterly careful.

She may not have found concrete evidence that Amelia Trilby and her father were lovers, but she was almost certain of the fact. She was playing a hunch she was willing to wager on.

She stood up and left the library.

Now she had to go to Willowfair and see if Amelia Trilby was truly her mother.

And she had to do it fast. She must disappear from Wickhurst before Maxwell Everard could blow her cover.