Chapter 4 Alone in the Woods
The next morning, Max rode off into the fields. It had been a month since he had gone off for a morning ride. But after yesterday, he felt like he needed this. He was up, anyway, too alert to have any hope of falling back asleep.
Part of him just wanted to keep going, to get as far away from his mother as he could.
Her watchful gaze on him had only increased these last few days.
Dinners had become almost unbearable. After he’d discovered his mother hadn’t invited Miss Cecil and her aunt to yesterday’s meal, he hadn’t even bothered to show up.
It had been terribly rude, and as much as he wanted to tell his mother that to her face, he wouldn’t allow their guests to hear the row that would be sure to follow.
But he didn’t need to be thinking about all that. He needed to focus on the cool, early morning air pressing hard on his face. He kicked his horse faster toward the woods ahead. He could already smell the damp moss.
Only when he’d reached the trees would he begin to slow.
It was the sounds of the forest that he enjoyed the most. The gentle rustle of the leaves, the buzz of the insects, and the chirp of distant birds.
Even when he had been just a child who hadn’t yet known how to ride, he’d come here running on foot just for the music of it all.
But amongst the pounding of horse hooves and the loud in and out of his own breath, there was something else. Amongst it all, chirped a sharper, higher-pitched sound. A woman? Yes. More specifically, Miss Cecil.
He jerked back the reins.
“Miss Cecil?” Max turned his horse round.
She was making a quick approach, going full speed on their black-and-white mare, Opal. He knew exactly why.
He should have known she wouldn’t wait. He should have known she’d come after him the moment she’d realized some of the books were missing.
She cared about the books too much, enough that she had been willing to ride recklessly into the fields the moment a servant, most likely, had told her where he’d gone.
He just wanted time to think and prepare a proper explanation. Now he feared, he’d put her in danger. The Londoner whom she was probably didn’t have much riding experience. But it was too late to stop her now.
He pointed ahead toward the woods. She didn’t have a bonnet on, and it was rather sunny out.
She must not have hesitated for a moment when she’d seen the empty book crates.
She’d come after him at once. She probably hadn’t even asked to borrow the mare.
It was the sort of determination he rather liked.
“Let’s go into the shade,” he yelled as he pointed to the woods.
Only a few trees deep, he jumped off his horse and took a deep breath.
Miss Cecil continued to close in, her horse at a gallop. At the first line of trees, she alighted.
“Are you all right, Miss Cecil?” he asked. Though perhaps he would have been better off apologizing.
“I don’t entirely know.” She heaved a breath.
“Take a moment.”
The last thing he wanted was for her to swoon.
She took a deep breath. “The book that you showed me… the one from the Philippines… it’s gone.”
“I know.” He took the reins from his horse and tethered it to a branch. Miss Cecil hastily did the same.
“Your mother orchestrated it, I believe. It was that man, wasn’t it? That man, we—”
“Yes, he took a lot of our books…they’ll soon return to take the rest.”
“Tell me what is going on. That book… You have no idea its importance. That man can’t just—”
“He bought them. Well, he called it a holding fee, but he paid for them nonetheless. And that is what we wanted all along, isn’t it?”
“But I didn’t even get a chance to… How do you know they offered a fair price?” She was shaking.
He looked down. “The books, apparently, don’t even belong to us…”
“They don’t? To whom do they—”
“I told you about them, remember?”
She looked at him blankly.
“The secret society my grandfather—”
“Who are they?”
“They call themselves ‘the Silver Order.’ My mother must have overheard us talking and she… You’re right that she orchestrated this whole thing. But I knew. The moment those books hit the mud when we were trying to free that carriage, I recognized one of the books at once.”
“And you did nothing?”
“What was I supposed to do? Get in a row in the middle of the lane? I knew there had to be an explanation. It turns out the man was one of the Order’s errand boys. A new up-and-coming member, apparently.”
Miss Cecil stared at the ground. “They’re the ones who owned them in the first place? They never even belonged to your family at all?”
Max pursed his lips. “The Order claims that because they funded my grandfather’s expeditions that therefore, the texts found during said expeditions belong to them.”
“That’s not right. They can’t just—”
“What difference does it make? We need the money. Not even my mother expected that they’d pay.”
He searched for something conciliatory. “Regardless, I would be more than happy to pay you a fee for your troubles.”
Miss Cecil just continued to stare.
“But you’re not worried about the money, are you?” He was beginning to understand and piece things together, however unreal it was all starting to feel. “That’s never what this has been about.”
Miss Cecil glanced up then, her eyes wide and searching. He’d had an inkling of it all along. He just hadn’t allowed himself to think on it. He had been too taken by her intriguing past. He crossed his arms, fully suspicious.
“You wanted the books for yourself, didn’t you? You wanted to steal them.”
“No. Never. Of course not.” She dropped her gaze to the ground, searching.
“What about that night at the ball?”
She clenched her jaw.
“It wouldn’t really be stealing, would it?” she suddenly said, fiercely. “That book never belonged to any of you. It belonged to us.”
If she hadn’t been shaking before, she really was now. It pained him to distress her so badly.
“Your family is the real thief,” she said. “You all and that man.”
He ignored the jab. “What were you going to do with it?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to keep it for myself, if that’s what you’re implying… I was going to study it, share my findings, then return it to the Philippines so it could be displayed. In one of their own museums.”
“Do you have one in mind?”
“Of course I do. I was even going to deliver it myself.”
“An expedition, you could say. How fun.” Though it sounded sarcastic, he wasn’t teasing. He really meant it.
He sighed wistfully. “I always thought I’d do a tour of the Continent, but now I’m not so sure. The Pacific sounds far more diverting.”
Miss Cecil quirked a brow. Though he could understand why. He was changing the subject when she was still angry—devastated, perhaps—about the books she had worked so hard organizing that had suddenly disappeared. Not to mention the one that had fascinated her so intensely.
“Would it make you feel better if you knew I put one aside?” He smiled gently. “The errand boy didn’t yet take it, so I hid it away.”
“You did what?” She spit.
“I hid it. For you.” He stepped closer. To his great relief, she didn’t step back. “That book I showed you. I knew you’d want it.”
She took a breath. “Of course I do. I think I made its historical significance quite clear.”
“It wasn’t just that. It was the look you gave me when I handed it over. It made you happy.”
“Well, I—” She was speechless and he was rather enjoying it. Was it what he had done, or his sudden nearness that had taken hold of her? Either way, he didn’t much care.
“You can tell me to stop if you want to.” Without thinking anything more of the consequences, he took her by the waist and plunged his lips onto hers.
*
This was why, Mia suddenly realized, society was so insistent that she never be alone with a man.
He kissed her in a way that went so beyond what she’d thought kisses were supposed to be.
So beyond the simple pecks she had seen amongst family.
No, this, the way his lips moved over hers was far more… more sensual.
Alone like this, she was a breath away from ruining herself right there. The worst part was that she wanted to. As hard as her rational self wanted her to pull away, another part of herself—a part she hadn’t known existed—clung to him, her fingers hungry and unwilling to let go.
No matter what she wanted, even if it was him, she needed to take this slow, she demanded of herself. She needed to take a breath.
Finally, she pulled back. Only she didn’t know what to say.
“The book’s in my bedroom.” He smiled devilishly. Apparently, that was where he’d hoped she’d retrieve it.
That was all she needed to remember his reputation and the type of person he was. Yes, it was all based on conjecture, but even if the gossipers were wrong, how could she go so far with someone she didn’t really know? That kiss had been more than enough.
“Aren’t you soon-to-be engaged?” She stepped back.
“Gads, no.” His face twisted. “Not if I can help it.”
“The transaction yesterday with that man… Was that enough to…uh…”
“To cover our debts?” He didn’t seem surprised that she knew. All of London knew.
“I thought it was in the tens of thousands.”
“Yes, it was. The Order, luckily for you and I, wanted the books, rather badly.”
“And you mean not to spend it all this time?”
“At least not all at once…”
She winced. She didn’t know where her words had come from. Then again, she knew exactly. They had been an accumulation of all that had been on her mind these last few days, all the questions to which she had never gotten any answers.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that the gossipers say…”
“That I’m a reckless gambler, playboy, simpleton?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” She couldn’t help but smirk.
“I’m well aware of the rumors.” He shook his head, turning serious. “There was a time I didn’t care. Until now.”
“What do you mean?”