Kenward was not too far from Wickhurst. In fact, one could reach it in merely a matter of a day. But the moment you arrive and walk through its grounds you would feel as if you have reached the farthest corner of the Town itself.

Merely a few miles were the mines owned by none other than the Everards themselves. It was where the gemstones were carved for polishing and eventually settle around the ton's necks, fingers, wrists, heads and anywhere else they saw fit.

Maxwell's estate was not as large as Theobald, but it could very well be for it had so much space.

"You are not obviously fond of fixtures," she noted to her husband as she walked into an almost empty drawing room. "I could invite ten people for fencing in this room."

He did not comment, simply shrugged and walked over to the nearest chair, two of three in the room.

"Why?" she asked, walking over to him.

He sighed, reading her question. One of the things she loved about their odd relationship was the lack of requirement for words. Both of them could easily read each other's mind. On the other hand, it was also hard to keep a secret, especially the one she had been keeping for three days now. She was waiting for the perfect time to tell him.

"I see no use for paintings," he uttered. "They do overwhelm my senses, most especially when I am designing." His reply drew Maxine back to the present.

He reached out for her and pulled her closer so she was standing between his legs. "What are you doing?" she asked when his hands rested on her hips, caressing her through her heavy skirts. "I am telling you, Maxwell, I am tired," she weakly protested, resting her hands on his shoulders.

His hands paused and he tilted his head up at her, feigning an innocent frown. "Pray tell, wife," he said, narrowing his eyes, "what you think I am planning to do?"

Maxine gave him a look of warning and stepped away. "You are yet to show me the rest of the estate, you devil."

The desire in his eyes did not waver even up to the moment when he had to take her from one room to the next and when she dragged the time wandering around his very small garden.

"I heard that Levi has a hole directly over his manor," she murmured.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, love," he said, "but I merely have one."

"And I also heard that he built Tori rain," she nonchalantly added as they walked back into the manor, leaving the garden behind.

"Are you trying to tell me that you wish for such romantic gestures?"

Maxine rolled her eyes and sighed. "I wish you did not have to say that."

"Why?"

"It breaks the spell!"

"The spell?"

"The magic."

"I do not understand, I honestly don't."

"Of course you would not," she said. He absently grabbed her hand and they walked up the stairs. "Where are we going next? And no, not the bedchamber just yet. I know what you have in mind."

He let out a snort. "My workroom," he provided.

They turned into the west wing and down the narrow corridor that led to an open space. Maxine had to admit that she was thoroughly impressed. The room was surrounded by bare windows, providing a much better lighting from the bright lamps outside. From where they stood in the middle of the room, she could see the Kenward plantation and the beam of light shining down from the hole above it.

It may not be as magical as Levi's Standbury as she had heard from the twins, but it had a charm if its own. "It is like looking into a painting," she said with awe.

Tearing her eyes away from the marvelous picture of the plantation, she looked about the room. There was naught but a large, long table with papers strewn all over the place and an old winged chair. A few books were stacked in one corner and they could very well serve as a table should they grow in number. The only walls in the room were not covered by paintings. Instead, drawings of different jewelries were randomly pasted on them.

"The best of the jewels mined are delivered in Nicholas' estate and sent here for me to assemble into designs," her husband explained, dragging her across the room where she discovered hidden drawers clandestinely designed to fool one's eyes. He pulled one out and she saw dozens of glinting emeralds within. "Dare not take one, they are not for you," Maxwell teasingly said as he closed the drawer again.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned. She walked over to the chair and sat down. Planting her hands on the table, she imagined Maxwell bent over it with a frown of concentration on his face and his hair a curtain around his head. Yes, she could definitely see him working here.

"That is my chair," he said beside her, pulling her out of the chair in a flash. She gasped as he settled there with a triumphant look on his face. "Now, I shall not be banning you from this room. In fact, I shall have a chaise be placed here for you, but you cannot have this chair. Everything else you can touch, but not this one."

She hitched her hips on the table, facing him. "Why?"

"This belonged to my father," he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward him to sit on his lap. "But you can indirectly sit on it this way," he said, cupping her face and kissing her on the mouth before she could even protest or offer a rejoinder.

Soon enough Maxine forgot about the other rooms as she swiveled over his lap, straddling him as his hands worked on her stays, baring her back with every tug. His teeth grazed across her jaw, his breath suddenly hot with desire which he voiced by whispering words into her ear, of what he planned to do with her and how to do it, sending a delightful shiver down Maxine's spine.

As her hands tightened in his hair and as his hands found her breasts, a tiny bit of rational thought flashed in her mind and she groaned.

She did not wish to spend their first day in Kenward with a secret.

"Max," she rasped and gulped as his mouth traveled down her throat, leaving a hot trail. Her gown was being dragged lower inch by inch and her hips squirmed against him. "Max," she tried once more. His merely growled, his other hand pulling at her skirts, finding her bare legs and slid higher. "Max!" she harshly whispered and his hand stilled on her thigh. He looked up, eyes dark with passion. "I have to tell you something," she managed with a gulp.

He groaned. "Later, Maxie," he said, bending down to feast on her breast, the hand under her skirts deliberately moving higher.

"I received a letter from Amelia Trilby," she uttered with regret for he went completely still, his hands almost stone against her skin. His head leaned away from where it was bent and he looked up at her with a scowl.

"Why, of all moment, Maxie," he gritted through his teeth, "would you spill such news?"

She gawked at him. "You are cross because I chose to tell you about it now?"

His dark emerald eyes, still hazy with lust, flickered with annoyance. "I am making love to you in a chair, love," he groaned, his hand tightening around her thigh.

She let out an awkward smile. "We could continue now," she said, pressing against his crotch. "I simply wanted to tell you about the letter before the courage to do so disappears."

He buried his face into the crook of her neck as he groaned in frustration. "What do I do to us both?" he asked.

"What do you wish to do now? Make love or talk about the letter?" she asked, moistening her lips. In her mind, she was free of the guilt and she would very much love to continue where they left off. "Or both? At the same time?"

His head snapped back and he glowered at her. "That would be bloody strange, love." His hand left her breast and went behind her nape, pulling her head to crush his mouth against hers for a hungry, punishing kiss. "We talk first," he said in a voice that almost sounded pained. He gave her another shattering kiss before he righted her skirts and pulled her off his lap. He turned her around to haphazardly fix her stays while Maxine silently whined. Mayhap she ought to have told him later. She found that delaying gratification was not her forte at all.

*****

Very much later, after Maxwell had ordered for the footman to bring a chaise into his workroom, Maxine was sitting down, facing a husband trying his best not to scowl as he asked, "What does she want?"

"She invited me for dinner," she honestly uttered, meeting Maxwell's gaze.

His eyebrow twitched. "And you wish to go."

His statement was bare of judgment but she could sense the controlled, brewing anger. "She could provide me with answers." She uttered her statement in so low a voice for she was not certain she wanted Maxwell to hear it. But he did and he sighed.

And he did not say a word. No comment, simply a sigh. He was trying to be considerate and Maxine was grateful for it.

"But I am not inclined to the idea of going as you may believe," she added. "I know that the Trilbys have an impression upon the Everards and they have proven to be untrustworthy. But we can pick up something from what they might not share with us, see?"

Maxwell simply stared at her and that was one of the very rare moments she wished that he voice his thoughts.

Averting her eyes, Maxine belatedly added, "And you also want to know of their plans—the one you believe they are concocting with Osegod."

This time Maxwell did not bother to hide his anger. His hands balled into fists. "You are suggesting I use you to spy on them. Are you insane?"

Maxine shrugged. "You have to admit, Max, that you once thought of it."

"Before when I thought you a spy and before I bloody married you, yes, I did!" he nearly snarled. Brushing his hair away from his face with his right hand, he shook his head. "No. You are not going to that dinner until we know more about your mother."

"But we do not know where she is. We are not even certain if she is still alive."

Her statement gave him pause. "Gustav is yet to provide us with a report from his friends in the west, Maxie. Make no conclusions for now."

"And what of this matter with Osegod and your family?" she countered, standing up. "I am part of it now, Max, or have you forgotten? If he is planning something, I would want to know of it as well."

"He shall be handled another way," he said. "Or have you also forgotten that you are my wife? I will not allow you to be near that bastard."

"But will you consider the dinner with Amelia Trilby?" she asked. "She will not do something like the one she did to my birth mother. We could simply pretend we are there for the food!"

Maxwell let out a dry chuckle. "Of course, the food." He sighed and walked over to her. "All right, I will think of it."

Maxine narrowed her eyes. "You did not only say that so we can be done with this talk and continue where we left off earlier in that chair, are you?"

"My body would say yes, love," he said as he pulled her closer, "but no, I truly need time to think of the consequences of this dinner invitation."

Maxine smiled. "Thank you." She pulled him toward the chaise. "What say you to giving this chaise a good memory?"

Her husband was already pulling her down with a wicked smile on his face.

*****

"Now, do not think I am pestering you, dear sister-in-law," Nicholas was saying as he shifted in his chair, "but when will you get around to writing that letter to Rock'oles?"

Maxine slowly gave her head a shake. "I have been writing drafts, dear brother-in-law, but the very task seems to be rather daunting. I cannot stomach a letter of apology after what I saw in that place."

"You saw naught but beautiful women and disgusting men," Nicholas cried. "Apart from your husband and his two brothers, of course," he added.

"And after all the stories you shared about that place while I was under your employ," she added with a smile.

Nicholas groaned and turned his head at Maxwell. "The biggest regret of my life is hiring this valet!" he said, pointing at his brother's wife.

Maxwell shrugged. "I say I do not regret that you did," he commented, sending his wife a meaningful look from where he was standing by the window. "

Nicholas nearly barfed.

"And why are you in Kenward?" Maxwell asked him. "Whiston is merely a mile away."

"I do not like Whiston and you know it. And at the moment, I do not like my apartment in Wickhurst as well!"

"Whyever not?" Maxine asked with a frown.

"The servants constantly fight for all you know and they do not even bother to hide it from me!"

"Who?" Maxine asked.

"I do not bloody know! Albin and Oscar seem to not like each other more than ever and it is the chambermaid's fault. Fanny, the cook and housekeeper, ought to find a real cook soon for I can no longer stomach her food. I would go to the Everard estate for every meal if only Mother would stop talking about your bloody grand wedding, one that you both ought to decide on very soon before all of us go insane! I cannot imagine how Emma is feeling as she lives with the woman and has to suffer her incessant babbles about how her one son cannot force his wife to walk into a bloody church but was able to drag her to Tiny Town!" Nicholas was breathless when his litany was over and Maxwell and Maxine merely looked on with amusement. "And Osegod sent a missive."

Maxwell stiffened. "What did he want?"

"Another dinner with the family."

"The last one was to be the last," Maxwell snapped. "Have you told Ben?"

"Waiting for his reply," Nicholas said.

Maxwell was thoughtful and quiet until his brother left to go back to Whiston where he planned to stay for a week before returning to Wickhurst.

"Why do you think that Osegod means to cause trouble?" Maxine asked later that night as they were getting ready for bed.

"I do not think it, I believe it," he replied, slipping under the covers to join her. He turned and they faced each other in the middle of the bed. "There was an accident in the mines months ago, but it was no accident. We never had one since our father died due to one. The explosives were planted this time and we are certain of it."

He watched his wife's eyes widen. "And you believe he caused it?"

"He can cause anything for his own cause," he said. "The accident happened close to when he started to take notice of the family."

She frowned. "Why? A business proposal?"

"Perhaps that and something else," Maxwell said. "He wants something—or rather, someone."

"Who?"

He reached up to tuck a stray of hair away from her face. "A year ago, before Ysabella and Wakefield married, there was one woman who was a constant presence in the family. Her name is Aurora Randolph."

"I believe I have seen her," Maxine said. "She was with your family at the Theobald weekend party."

"Yes."

"You mean to say that Osegod wants this woman?"

He looked at Maxine for a while before he said, "Before I tell you, promise never to repeat it to anyone."

"Of course."

"Margaret is a Leaguer."

Maxine shrugged. "I am not surprised."

His lips twitched into a smile. "Of course, you are not." He pulled her closer toward him. "Mother and the twins are not aware of the fact so you have to be very careful. I, along with the brothers and Tori are aware but it does not mean that we do not fret for her. I can barely imagine how her husband must be feeling every single day."

"What of Margaret?" she asked, drawing him back to their topic.

"She learned of Aurora's secret—that she was Osegod's former mistress and that he has been hunting her down for years. And she used that knowledge to bring Aurora into the hands of a fellow Leaguer who is tasked to investigate Osegod."

"The Leaguer has been investigating Osegod?"

He nodded. "They are quite certain of his crimes but they do not have the evidence. Power and money can erase those."

Maxine tilted her head up to gaze into Maxwell's eyes. "And they decided to use Aurora as a pawn to catch him? How?"

Maxwell shrugged. "If I know, love, I would already be a Leaguer. Whatever the specifics of their plans, I do not know, nor does Margaret as she chose to not be a part of the assignment to protect the Everards from Osegod. She did help the League take Aurora to help them, but she also did so with the intention to rid the family of the woman." When Maxine did not comment, he added, "Margaret knew that we do not have Osegod's power should we have protected Aurora."

"But why does Osegod want Aurora so badly? Surely he can manage to find another mistress?"

His jaw tightened. "He fathered a child," he said.

"A bastard?"

"A bastard would not be enough to damage his reputation," he said, squeezing her shoulder with one hand as he looked down and said, "He fathered a cretin."

Maxine paled and her eyes widened in horror.

"You see, love," he said, "society considers bastards as mistakes, but a cretin and all others of their kind are naught but bad blood."

"Oh God," Maxine uttered.

"Should the entire population of the Town learn of Osegod's bastard, his days as the head of the Town Leaders shall be numbered. He will never be voted once more because as society would most likely put it, how could a damaged man rule them all?"

"God, Maxwell, what is the League planning to do to this woman and her child?"

His expression tightened for he felt the same horror he saw in her face. "Only they know, love."

She fell silent for a very long time. "Yet he is trying his best to get close to the Everards. Why?"

"Margaret and I suspect that he might have learned of the Everard's close relation to Aurora Randolph, a name she used when she came to Wickhurst. He has people who are very well capable of finding her despite her using an alias after all."

"And he believes you might point him to her?" she asked.

"We Everards, as you must have heard, do have a penchant for protecting those dear to us."

"Of course, Agatha is one example."

"But we also do have our limitation," he said. "Not most of us may agree, but some of us knows when to close a door when need be."

Maxine scoffed. "Well, Osegod is rather daft, isn't he?"

He looked down at her with amusement. "Why so?"

"He could simply knock on your doors and ask that you show this woman!"

Maxwell chuckled as he pulled her even closer. "That is not how this game is played, Maxie. In this game, we all try our best to bluff."

After a moment of silence, his wife's serious voice murmured against his chest, "It will be disastrous should he know of Margaret's involvement."

"Very much so, yes," he murmured. "He will not like the fact that he is being investigated by the League if he is not already aware of it."

A few more moment of silence before she asked, "Aurora is the woman who betrayed Ysabella's trust, yes?"

"Who told you?" Maxwell asked.

"Emma, of course."

He sighed. "Whatever she did, she probably did out of desperation. She was a woman with a child for a cretin and without means. Perhaps her years being a mistress to Osegod and others had taught her lessons that merely the unfortunates learn about."

"Would you have helped her should she have asked for your help?"

"No," Maxwell replied without hesitation. "She had proven to us that she would do anything irrational, even betray a friend, to save herself and her child. I cannot risk the family's safety for a woman who cannot be trusted. I am quite certain she is aware of that."

"And if she did not betray Ysabella?"

"That is a rather difficult question. Mother and the twins would be inclined to keep and protect her, but Margaret and I—and perhaps even Ben—would find a way to offer a different sort of help. Agatha was a different case. Aurora, on the other hand, is far beyond our power."

"But—"

"There are things the Everards can condone, Maxie, but we are no fools. If she is not being hunted by Osegod who can conjure the help of the most powerful families in the Town, we would take her in and her child and the entire Town can bloody go to hell. But that was not the case. She is being hunted by a man being investigated by the League of Founders and the League does not merely take simple missions. If someone is a person of interest to the League, that someone could be more than what any of us could imagine."

He frowned when he heard Maxine choke in tears.

"What is the matter?"

She shook her head and pathetically laughed at herself. "It is rather difficult to be a woman, is it not? We are all but mere pawns to the games of men."

"Then perhaps you must pray that Cole ascend to power," he said. "You must hear of the laws he wishes to pass to provide women with more freedom and protection."

Maxine wrapped her arms around her husband and yawned. "I have you."

Maxwell did not say a word. He hated the thought of losing her and for the first time he finally truly understood why Aurora had gone to such extent to protect her child. He would have done the same, even worse, to keep this woman.

*****

They spent their first week in Kenward without any hardship. In fact, Maxwell thought that he was settling into this marriage rather well.

He kept to himself while he worked, designing jewelries, and when he was not working he would find his wife and drop an emerald in her hand, each time with a different shape.

"What is this?" she asked, frowning at the stone, when he first gave her one.

He shrugged. "If you can be patient, you will soon find out," was his only mysterious reply.

But as days went he could not help but notice that Maxine was acting rather odd. He would often find her staring into space if she thought he was not looking and it bothered him.

Was she thinking about Osegod and Aurora Randolph?

Was she thinking about the dinner invitation from Amelia Trilby?

Her mother?

The Theobalds?

Him and their marriage?

Surely she was not starting to regret marrying him, was she? She could not be when she was a passionate lover in the evening and a joy to be with during the day.

He did not ask her for he knew that she would tell him once she was ready, but it did not mean he was not bothered at all.

One night he even woke up with a start, fearing that she was thinking of leaving him but sighed with relief when he found her lying naked beside him after hours of making love.

But it seemed that his fears were not altogether false for one day Maxwell awoke and found, to his horror, that his wife had ordered for the carriage be drawn out and rode away from Kenward.

Without him.

And bloody alone!