Max paid the grizzled old man, then he and Sabine made their way to their room. Inside they found one narrow bed with shabby, dingy linens.
“This is a child’s bed,” Max told the man carrying their bags.
He just grunted in return, then closed the door behind him.
“It should be a restful night,” Max said wryly.
Sabine stood at the window and pulled back the threadbare curtain and peered into the dark night sky. Only a handful of stars were visible through the evening clouds. “Perhaps it’s too dark for us to do anything tonight,” Sabine said.
“That’s what lanterns are for.” He leveled his steely gaze on her. “The night will not be wasted.” He sauntered closer to her. “Unless you have something else you’d prefer we do.” He eyed the bed with a smile.
She released an unladylike snort. “As if we would both fit in there,” she said, pointing to the small bed.
“Did you want to give it a try?” he asked.
“Absolutely not,” she said. A complete lie. Narrow bed or not, she knew there was passion to be found within Max Barrett’s arms.
She had felt the touch of another man, but with Max, she knew it was different. He was a man she intensely desired, a man whose touch made her ache, a man who made her want more than a tumble in bed.
“Do you want to do this or not?” he asked.
More than anything.
But of course, he was talking about exploring the chapel.
“Yes, certainly.”
She pushed aside her more lascivious thoughts and considered instead the joys of sneaking around deserted churches in the dead of night. If her birthday marked some kind of deadline, they didn’t have much time. Not to mention there was a killer after them—a killer who’d already taken the lives of two other guardians and five of England’s military leaders. She ignored the fear bubbling inside her. This was not the time to be cautious. She’d been cautious her entire life. Now was the time to take action to protect the ones she loved.
“I asked the boy at the stable to gather some tools for us, including a shovel. It’s been my experience that a shovel can be used for a multitude of purposes, including a weapon, should the need arise,” Max said. “And here.” He handed her a small stack of folded clothes. “It will make our traipsing around in the dark easier on you if you don’t have to lug around forty yards of material.”
She explored the stack of clothing he’d handed her. “You want me to wear trousers?”
“Don’t you see that it will make our tasks less cumbersome?” He leaned against the wall and crossed his feet at the ankle. “Especially if any of the people who’ve been chasing us return, and we must again be on the run.”
She eyed the clothes warily, then turned and stepped into the dressing corner behind a pitifully short screen.
The room had indeed been designed for a child, as her head and shoulders stuck out above the screen.
It was on her tongue to argue, but she bit back the words. He was right, of course. Wearing trousers and a shirt would be infinitely better than trying to navigate an old churchyard and cemetery in her wool dress. She unfastened her dress and slipped it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a pool.
Max never took his eyes off her. He stared blatantly at her bare shoulders; his bold perusal warmed her skin.
“You could be a gentleman and avert your eyes,” she said. Her voice came out cool and crisp, completely opposite to the warmth his lusty stare shot through her body.
“I’m not a gentleman, Sabine, and I’ve never pretended otherwise.” His smile was purely wicked. “I’m standing here wondering precisely why I’m not tossing that screen aside and pressing you up against the wall.”
She swallowed hard. “Not a gentleman, but what of your title?” Her words came out in a stammer. “Do you not have responsibilities to your family name?”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and the desire burning his eyes seemed to ice over. “My family is dead. And while I don’t give a damn how anyone perceives me or my actions, there’s not really anyone left who pays much attention either.” With that, he turned away from her. “I’ll be outside getting our supplies. Meet me there.”
She nodded, even though he could no longer see her. His admission had startled her, and for a few moments after he’d closed the door, she simply stood there—unable to think, unable to move. It was quite evident he did give a damn, despite his protests. He was obviously a man who cared passionately about a great many things. Otherwise, he wouldn’t bother with the prophecy or her aunts or her.
A lesser man would have walked away from his quest to find Atlantis years ago.
Once she had collected herself, she dressed quickly. The shirt and trousers felt unfamiliar. She’d never encased her legs in anything but stockings, but the pants were surprisingly comfortable. Thankfully she’d brought along her travel boots, so she didn’t have to borrow anyone’s shoes. She pulled the pant legs over her boots, then rolled them up twice so they wouldn’t drag on the ground.
As soon as the clothes were properly fastened, she stepped around the screen and sat at the small dressing table. Quickly she wound her hair up into a knot, then tugged the cap down onto her head. She stood in front of the chipped mirror to get a look at herself.