"I believe you do not have an actual plan?" Maxine asked the very moment the carriage drew away from the Wakefield residence. "Which is why I ought to tell you, my lord, what I plan to do."

But it seemed that Maxwell was not listening for he asked, "I wonder why you decided to wear a dress?"

Maxine ignored him and continued, "I expect that your task is merely to accompany me to Willowfair so I do not put myself in danger. You will stay in the townhouse Lord Wakefield has rented in my behalf while I go and knock on my mother's door."

He tore his eyes off her blue dress and met hers. "I do have a plan."

She rose in brow with a mocking smile. "You mean to tell me about your acquaintance? Surely you must know that I am not daft, my lord, for I know there is no such person! You have merely been playing me!" She tore her gaze away from his and absently smoothened the skirts of her dress. "But fret not for I have not revealed your devious plans to your sister."

He was silent for a long while as the carriage drew them farther away from Wickhurst. Maxine was not uncomfortable with his intense gaze, but she was growing frustrated by his presence. He had succeeded in taking over the task of taking her to Willowfair and she felt utterly defeated.

She felt like a puppet being passed around from one hand to another. Yes, she may find everything outside of Theobald new and she was stranger to most of them, but how could she prove she was capable if people like Maxwell Everard thought that she could not go on her own? And in addition to that, he had been planning to use her to spare his family from the so-called wrath of Osegod and the Trilbys!

"I will not allow you to use me or force me into helping you with your plans against Osegod or the Trilbys," she said without looking at him. He remained silent. "How do you expect me to do so when I am not even quite sure if my mother would accept me?"

*****

Maxwell studied her composed feature. She appeared to be strong as she wanted to appear, but her words were enveloped with complete uncertainty, one that stroke a nerve within him.

He never pitied her for he found it pathetic to do so. She did not need his pity. But at that brief moment when she sounded lost and uncertain, he could not help but be sympathetic.

"You do not have to be chummy with your mother. No one expects you to." They could always threaten Amelia Trilby to provide them with information. He could use Maxine to do so. Surely, the woman would not want to have her dark secret revealed.

At his last statement, her eyes wavered. Maxwell's jaw tightened. "A part of you wishes that she will welcome you."

A flicker of fury crossed her pale grey eyes. "Do not attempt to understand me, my lord," she snapped. "Someone like an Everard would never understand what it feels."

"I can understand what it feels to be abandoned. We do," he said in defense.

Her lips quirked into a sardonic smile. "Of course, most of us do." She turned to meet his eyes. "But not all knows how it feels to be unwanted."

A shiver ran up his spine.

"Again, my lord, I do not wish to be part of your plan. Whatever it is you want to achieve against the Trilbys or Osegod, do spare me."

Maxwell shrugged, not entirely certain how to respond to that. Osegod had not done anything as of the moment, but he could not let another accident happen. Mayhap she need not be part of the plan. She need not take part in it. Mayhap her very presence in this world was enough to threaten a Trilby.

*****

After hours of silence with nothing but the sound of the carriage wheels against the ground and the constant sounds of the horses, Maxwell heard Maxine's loud sigh.

He stared out the window. Moonlight was streaming down the distant holes. "You did insist that we travel straight to Willowfair through Marsden without any stops," he pointed out.

"I do not believe I uttered a word of complain," she wryly replied.

"You look tired," he said. "We could stop by Marsden. We have been travelling for nearly a day after all."

"I cannot trust you in any taverns, my lord."

He rolled his eyes. Of course it was his entire fault. But she must be bloody tired. And so was he.

"And I heard that bandits flock Marsden."

"Bandits are the least of our worries at this time of day. They attack in the wee hours."

"Ah, very considerate of them then," she snapped. "For I know someone who attacks stealthily behind one's back at any given time."

Maxwell narrowed his eyes. "I told you, my lady, that I did not intend to use you without your consent."

Her shrug merely infuriated him further, yet he knew that he had no right to express it. He had caused this response from her, after all. She had started to warm up to him until she found out about his plans.

Once you are still trying to hang on to, a part of him whispered. He ignored the nagging voice.

The carriage slowly drew to a stop in the middle of the road. Maxine looked out the window and frowned. "Why are we stopping?"

Maxwell stared outside from the other side of the carriage. "What is it?" he asked at the driver over the sound of whining horses.

"I hope you brought enough money, milord!" The driver shouted. "We have company."

"Bloody tarnation," he cursed under his breath.

Maxine snapped her head and glared at him. "What did you say about bandits again, my lord?"

"Stay quiet and let me deal with this," he ordered, searching his breast pockets for his purse.

"Would you make me pay for the things they will take away from us?"

"I said, be silent, woman," he hissed just in time as two men poked their heads through the windows.

They were grinning and chuckling with triumph. "Oi, guv!" said the man from Maxine's side of the window. "What can ye give us poor bandits?" He looked at Maxwell and then at Maxine. "Payment for a passage fer two. Discount on the driver, guv!"

Maxwell sighed and turned his head to face the young bandit at his side of the window. The moment the young man saw his face, he groaned.

"What is it, Ned?" the other bandit asked.

"Everard, Barto," the other man said.

"What?"

The bandit named Ned nodded at Maxwell. "He's a bloody Everard."

"How'd you know, you idiot? He didna say 'is name!"

Ned scowled at Barto. "You fool! Ken ye not remember 'is face!"

Barto poked deeper into the carriage, up to his shoulders. He had a frown on his face. "No, I don't."

"What is it!" a woman's voice called out from outside. "Get the purse! They do not have trunks! What is takin' ye so long!"

Ned poked his head out of the carriage to shout at the woman from behind the carriage. "Everard!"

"What?"

"The one with the long hair!"

"Ah, bloody hell, he is one!" Barto groaned upon closer assessment of Maxwell's face. He poked out of the window and shouted, "Please, Alex, just this one time! They'd never know!"

"No! Leave 'em! Let's go!"

Ned growled and jumped away from the carriage. Barto exclaimed in frustration at the top of his lungs, causing Maxwell to raise his brows. "How many bleeding Everards are there!" Barto cried out. He then turned to glare at Maxwell. "Ye are one lucky man, guv!" He turned to Maxine to give a slight bow. "And ye are lucky to be with an Everard."

"I said no Everards!" the woman Maxwell could not see was shouting. "Do ye want to be skinned alive by me friends!" She was arguing with the other bandit.

Maxine was frowning. She had stayed silent and unmoving the entire time. "What the bloody hell happened?"

The three bandits were still shouting at each other behind the carriage. Maxwell sighed and knocked on the carriage roof. The carriage started once again.

"What happened?" Maxine asked, poking her head out of the window to see the bandits behind them. Maxwell did the same, but the road was dark and he could not seem to make out the face of the woman.

"My sisters."

"Who?"

"My sisters are friends with bandits."

Maxine's eyes widened. "You mean Ysabella and Emma?"

Maxwell shrugged. "I had thought it was merely a rumor." He leaned back against his chair. "It seems it is true after all."

*****

Maxine woke up when she felt a gentle shake. She slowly opened her eyes and found Maxwell bending over her. "Wake up and rest upstairs."

"Hm?" she asked, trying to collect her thoughts. The last she remembered, she was thinking about Ysabella having a grand time with her bandit friends. Or was it a dream? Ah, bloody hell, she could not discern reality from a dream.

"Upstairs," Maxwell repeated, opening the carriage door. He hopped out and extended his hand to her. "Come."

Maxine bent her head to find a small tavern outside. "No. I wish to continue on to Willowfair," she said, shaking her head.

Maxwell sighed. "You look like you will pass out at any moment. Do not be stubborn."

"I can sleep in the carriage."

"But I cannot," he droned, taking her hand and gently pulling her forward. "Move."

Maxine's feet moved and she soon found herself being led up the stairs by Maxwell after a brief talk with the tavern owner.

Her thoughts were still muddled as she looked around the dimly lit room. "I am not sharing," she absently said, trying to figure out where the bed was. Ah, there it was, right at the center.

"You have not had supper. You must eat first," Maxwell's voice said from behind her.

"No. Sleep," she said, walking toward the bed. "I want to sleep."

His hand caught hers and forced her to turn around to face him. She tried to fight her lids from dropping. She was too sleepy.

He was frowning down at her. "Bear it for a little while more. Supper is being prepared as we speak."

She shook her head and yawned. "No. Sleep."

But his hands came to grip her firmly by the upper arms. And his head was descending down toward her.

Maxine sleepily blinked. "What are you doing?"

He paused to answer, "Waking you up," he said before his lips touched hers in a soft, careful collision.

The sudden surge of warmth rushed through her, down to her toes and the tips of her fingers. Her heart increased its pace until it was hammering against her chest.

Maxwell's mouth was moving over hers and she was opening her mouth to answer his kiss and invite him in. And then she blinked and her mind began to work, the wheels spun, blowing the hazy smoke out of her mind.

She raised her hand and pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, eyes wide, hands clenched into fists beside her.

He blinked his emerald green eyes and they faltered for a moment before he regained control and shrugged. "I said I was set to seduce you, did I not? It had nothing to do with my plan to use you."

Maxine stiffened. Her brain was merely able to grasp the words 'seduce' and 'use'. And as if it had been waiting for its turn in the long line of thoughts inside her brain, she remembered what he did moments ago.

She rushed forward and punched his arm. "You took advantage of a half-asleep woman! You are indeed a monster!"

He stepped away from her. "I mostly do act upon my instincts, but I would dare not take advantage of a woman who could hardly reciprocate the act!"

"Instincts? And your instinct told you to kiss me?"

He blinked and appeared to think for a few seconds before he nodded. "Yes."

"You are insane. You are not sleeping here tonight."

"I already have a room."

"And you are to take me straight to Willowfair on the morrow."

"As planned, yes."

"And you do not interfere with my plans to meet my mother."

"Arguable, of course."

Her eyes widened. "You will not interfere, my lord. I do as I please."

"And I say it is arguable. You do not know what shall happen the moment you announce yourself."

She ignored his statement. "And the moment I wish to go home, you take me home."

He shrugged.

"And you do not show yourself in front of me ever again."

Maxwell Everard smiled before he forced his lips to form a tight line. "That remains to be seen."

Maxine whirled around to walk to the chair at the corner of the room. "I will have my supper now."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Maxwell shake his head. The bloody queer bastard kissed her again. Because of his bloody instinct!

*****

"Was your life at Theobald utterly dire that you chose to run away?" he asked as she finished her supper.

"Is your room not ready that you are still here?" she calmly asked.

"There is no other available room."

She scowled. "But you said earlier that you do have a room!"

"I do," he said, "this one."

Maxine gritted her teeth. She would not waste her time and effort to demand that he find another room. Maxwell would not do so even if she threatened to jump out the window.

"I get the bed," she said.

"Of course."

She pushed the plate away and wiped her mouth with a napkin. When she placed it on the table, she looked up to see his arms crossed over his chest and he was still watching her with an expectant look on his face. He was still waiting for her reply.

Maxine sighed. "No. My life at Theobald was not dire at all. I received enough love from my father and stepmother. I grew up with my brothers and they treated me very well."

"I was told that it was you who does not wish to be presented to society. Why? Because you do not wish to cause ruin to your family, because society will reject you as they did many bastards?"

Maxine's lips formed a tight line before she shook her head. "Perhaps, but mostly because I am ashamed of it." Before he could tell her about the many bastards that roamed around Wickhurst like they were gods themselves, she stood up and stiffly walked over to the bed.

He watched her slip under the covers. "Ysa's dress will be ruined, but since you are sleeping here, I must preserve myself."

Maxwell did not offer a rebuttal. She was trying to lighten the mood the best way she knew how and he was fine with that. What he was not comfortable with was that she spoke the truth for at that moment he was doing his best not to continue the interrupted kiss.

*****

"Are you certain that is my sister's dress?" Maxwell asked with a frown when she stepped out of the carriage outside the townhouse.

For the second time, Maxine was in Willowfair.

"Yes, of course," she said with a huff.

"You borrowed it?"

"Yes," she wryly replied.

"Then you shall return it?"

"I will if you truly insist," she snapped at him.

"Good. That bloody dress reveals far beyond it should," she heard him say while he walked away to the front door.

"I would have worn my shirt and breeches but I realized you seem to be nicer when I am in a dress!" she retorted with the most sarcastic tone she could muster. She turned around to grab her luggage.

"What are you doing?" Maxwell barked from the door.

"Getting my luggage—"

He grabbed the bag from her none too gently. "You are no valet today, Max," he snapped.

Maxine sighed and waited until the door was opened by a butler. "Good day, my lord," said the man. "My lady," he added when Maxine followed Maxwell through the door.

He let a footman take her bag from him. "I assume you wish to go now?" he asked, turning to face her. "Or perhaps you wish for tea first? A few hours of respite?"

Suddenly, Maxine's heart began to race. Did she have to go now?

She blinked. Of course, she must! There was no reason to drag the time.

"No, I wish to go now."

His brows rose. "And?"

She moistened her lips, looking around the townhouse. She hesitated before she sighed. "Well, come on, then."

She turned to leave.

"What?" Maxwell asked behind her.

"You are coming with me, my lord," she said over her shoulder as the butler reopened the door for her. She waved at the carriage driver, signaling him to wait.

"You are scared," Maxwell said to her, already by her side.

She did not comment and climbed into the carriage. He followed and watched her from across the carriage, his gaze assessing and intense. Maxine cleared her throat and said, "Well? Do tell the driver where we are going!"

He sighed and shouted the instruction to the man.

They drove to Amelia Trilby's Fairview estate in silence.

"Admit it. You are scared," Maxwell said with a faint hint of a smile on his lips.

She was terrified.

"I still do believe you must wait for the perfect time to introduce yourself," he said. "I told you had I plan."

"One I no longer believe is of existence," she snapped at him, moistening her lips once more. She was suddenly thirsty. Her throat felt dry. "I was here weeks ago," she added. "I ought not to have let you stop me."

He did not say another word.

Moments later they were outside Amelia Trilby's estate. It was as humongous as she remembered it.

"Should I go with you?" Maxwell asked, his tone sardonic and dry.

She forced a smile. "Yes, of course. However will I survive without you?"

He rolled his eyes at her before he reached for the door.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as Maxwell climbed out of the carriage. She let him assist her for her legs felt suddenly weaker than they were earlier.

They both stared at the large main doors of the estate.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, taking a step forward. He walked beside her up to the front doors.

She could hear the rushing of blood to her ears along with the strong thumping sounds of her heart.

Maxwell lifted the knocker and she nearly flinched.

Ah, bloody hell. Mayhap she should have waited for a day or two. This was foolish. She must have waited!

She started to turn to tell Maxwell the same thing but the door opened and the butler's straight face greeted them. "Good day," the man dryly uttered. "How may I be of service?"

Maxine opened her mouth but no words came out. Maxwell lightly nudged her side. She poked back with her elbow.

"H-hello," she greeted. She knew her smile could be considered terrifying at that moment. "Well, I have not sent a calling card, but I believe your mistress would want to see us," she said to the butler.

"She does not easily receive callers, particularly ones without prior notice."

"She will see us. I am quite certain of it."

The man lifted his brow and lifted haughtily lifted his chin.

She was starting to dislike this man by each passing second. "Simply announce our presence and we shall see if she will welcome her surprise callers," she insisted with a frozen smile on her lips.

"How should I announce your presence?"

Maxine turned to Maxwell before returning her gaze at the haughty butler. "Do tell her that Maxwell Everard and his wife are here for tea."