“No,” she said fiercely. “Does that make you happy? I am not the guardian.”
“It’s Agnes, isn’t it?” he asked.
She took a shaky breath, then nodded.
“But what of your being your mother’s heir? Shouldn’t you have been the next in line?” he asked.
“Yes, but the ceremony named Agnes as guardian.”
“You were a child at the time.”
“That wouldn’t matter. Some had been named guardian at even younger ages. The fact of the matter was that I was not chosen. Whether that’s because of my mother’s failure or some deficiency in me, I do not know. I only know that I was not worthy to bear the duties of the guardian.”
He disagreed with her, but he understood why she would believe it. He’d inherited a title he’d no right to claim. His brother, Phillip, had been heir. But he had died, they’d all died, and now Max was the marquess, whereas Sabine had been the rightful heir, yet she’d been stripped of that honor.
“Why is it then that you wear that vial of elixir?” he asked.
“Agnes gave it to me several months ago. I think they’re trying to train me, trying to prepare me so when the time comes around for the next guardian, perhaps I’ll be chosen. They’re fooling themselves, but I hate to disappoint them,” she said softly. “So I wear it.”
Something in his chest caught, but he shoved it away. He didn’t have tender feelings. Not anymore. Despite that, Max couldn’t help but feel some measure of relief that the Chosen One wouldn’t be after her.
Still, it was important for him to know the truth. He sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I need the truth if I am to protect you and your aunts,” he said.
“You can be angry with me for withholding it from you, but it’s not as if you trust me either, Max.” She scooted farther away from him, making her way to the edge of the bed. “You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with your motives. You can’t possibly be helping me simply out of the goodness of your heart, or merely because you’re a patriot. You’re a scholar of Atlantis, and simply by offering your assistance, you have four Atlanteans currently residing under your roof. Rather convenient, don’t you think?”
She was right. There was something he wanted, and it was in his house right now. She was in possession of the very thing he sought. The one thing that would prove the existence of Atlantis. The elixir. He knew he couldn’t take Agnes’s away from her because she would die. But he could take Sabine’s necklace.
She climbed out of the bed with her back to him and bent to retrieve her clothes. Quickly she pulled on her shift. She turned to face him, her shoes bundled in her arms. “Is that the only reason you wanted to know the truth?” she whispered. “Because of the prophecy?”
He eyed her for a moment, searching her face for something she wasn’t saying. For any hint of what she wanted from him. What did she expect? “What else would there be?”
He all but held his breath, waiting for her answer.
She seemed to be searching his face as thoroughly as he’d searched hers. Whatever answers she found there must have offered no consolation.
“Nothing else,” she said tersely. “You’re right, there’s nothing else.” She turned to go.
“Sabine?”
She faced him.
“Tomorrow we’ll finish this bloody quest. We’ll find the dove.”
She nodded but said nothing as she slipped out of his room.
The only thing that stood in the way of his proving the existence of Atlantis was Sabine. But in order to do that, he would have to betray her. He knew that. That was what had given him pause. Normally she wore the necklace, but lately she’d taken to carrying it in her bag.
She’d trust him now. She had no other options now that he held their secrets. He’d pushed and pushed until she’d had no choice but to tell him everything. And eventually, he’d have to betray that trust.
He was a bastard.
Sabine and her aunts sat eating breakfast together the following morning, and across the table, Max sat quietly reading the newspaper while sipping his tea. Aside from wishing them all a good morning, he hadn’t said another word.
There was nothing further to discuss, she reminded herself. Still, their argument from last night lingered in the room like stale perfume. But more than the fight, she thought of the way he’d touched her, so gentle yet so full of passion. The way he’d said her name and whispered in the dark. The feel of him inside her, his skin pressed against hers.
His icy blue gaze looked up and locked on hers. He’d caught her watching him. Those intense azure eyes of his pierced through her.
She took a bite of her bread, not even tasting the melted butter, but she wanted something to do other than stare at Max.