Lord Maxwell's Quest by Jane Charles

Author:Jane Charles [Charles, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jane Charles

Chapter 17

They’d found it. Or they found what could possibly be the stolen sword. Which could also possibly be one of the swords of Joan of Arc. It was all Max could do to contain his excitement and remain serious and disappointed for whoever was watching. And, because Rylan’s men were in the area, not that Max had seen them yet, he and Rosemary continued to visit pawn shops until mid-afternoon.

“Look, a coffee house,” Rosemary pointed.

“And, hotel,” Max added. If they could find lodgings for the night, they’d not need to travel away from the area.

Taking her arm, he led Rosemary across the lane to Peele’s Coffee-House and first inquired after a room.

“Why not two?” Rosemary asked quietly as the woman turned away from the registry.

Max drew her away from anyone that might overhear. “We are too close,” he whispered. “Rylan is too close. I don’t think it wise that we are separated.” They’d have the sword tomorrow so tomorrow night he could sleep in separate chambers, and his sleep would not be disrupted because Rosemary was near.

“You think he would try to harm one of us before we are in possession? He doesn’t even realize it’s been located.”

“I don’t trust him, and I think we are both safer together.” He did fear more for Rosemary than himself, but Max also wouldn’t put it past Rylan or one of his thugs to slit his throat while he slept so Max decided it was best that they remain together, and they’d make certain the door to their chamber was secure.

After they’d enjoyed a small meal, which they had both been in need of, Max led Rosemary once again out onto Fleet Street, where they wandered the streets.

They passed a flower girl, many of her blooms now wilting, and feeling sorry for her, or perhaps generous since their luck had finally turned, Max purchased one of her last bouquets and handed it to Rosemary.

He wondered if anyone had ever given Rosemary flowers before. Had her lover?

Max didn’t want to think of Rosemary having lovers. It didn’t matter that it had only been one. What mattered was that it hadn’t been him.

He suffered from jealousy, which he fully acknowledged. He had wanted her for years. The sooner they had the sword and delivered it to the rightful owners, which was probably the French Government, they’d part ways, and he’d finally be able to get a full night of sleep.

Rosemary put the small bouquet close to her nose and inhaled. “Thank you, Max. These are lovely.”

“And likely to be dead by morning,” he added, not wishing to analyze why he had purchased them, nor wanting Rosemary to read too much into the gesture. It meant nothing. He was simply helping the poor flower girl out. The sooner she was rid of her flowers, the sooner she could return home for the day.

“They are still lovely.” Rosemary smelled them once again.

She was more relaxed since they’d eaten, but Max suspected it was more due to the fact that they’d located the sword.

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