Kelcey took hold of his hand, kissed the fingers briefly, then pulled it away from his mouth. "That sounds a fine arrangement, my lord. I apologize to have kept you overlong if you are hungry."
"I would have spoken up had I truly minded." Max laced their fingers together. He turned them toward the entrance, keeping to a leisurely pace as they made their way back through the museum.
There was a woman at the desk when they reached the entrance hall, and she gave them a polite smile and nod, bidding them a good evening. Max returned the nod, and left several notes on the desk.
Outside, the afternoon was just beginning to take on the long shadows and faded look of encroaching evening, the wind carrying a nip that would be a full, chill bite come nightfall. The streets were mostly empty, only a few scattered persons about.
Kelcey smiled at him, squeezed his hand. "Where would you like to eat?"
"Hmm …" Max pondered the question as they walked down the steps and down the street. "What about …" He trailed off as he looked up and saw … he hated to admit it, but the look on Kelcey's face was rather a frightening one. The sort of expression he would expect to see on a
real
highwayman's face.
He followed the direction of Kelcey's glare, expecting to see someone dangerous coming up behind him—but all he saw were a few people down the street. A woman and two children on the opposite side of the road, a man in a long, dark blue jacket briskly walking the other direction, and another man he just saw as he stepped into a shop, the bell above the door ringing in the otherwise quiet street.
Turning back to Kelcey, Max reached up and gently touched his chest. "Are you all right?"
"What?" Kelcey jerked, froze, seemed to shake himself. "Yes. Fine. My apologies. I thought I saw someone I would prefer not to see."
"Have we been found already? Should we bolt? We can always say bugger to the ship and go somewhere else entirely."
Kelcey captured both of his hands, squeezed them. "No, we are quite fine, I promise. If I was concerned we had been found, we would already be running. I simply thought I saw someone I knew." He made a face. "A man who hired me once to do a job. It proved to be extremely unpleasant, and we did not part as friends. My apologies."
"Do stop apologizing for things that do not require them," Max said, pulling his hands free and capturing the sides of Kelcey's face, drawing him down into a brief kiss.
"So where did you want to eat?" Kelcey asked as he drew back.
"There's a place along the coast, just on the edge of the city. A bit of a walk—we may want to find a hackney once we're back to the main roads."
Kelcey offered his arm. "As you wish, my lord."
Max took it, squeezing briefly before relaxing his hold. "It's entirely possible the place is no longer there, but I remember it being excellent. If it's no longer in business, I suppose we can simply have dinner in our room."
"No complaints from me however the evening falls," Kelcey replied. "I can give a gift anywhere."
Drawing to a halt, Max tugged on his arm. "Gift? What gift? Give it to me now."
Kelcey burst out laughing. "You are the brattiest brat I have ever encountered."
"Then clearly you have lied all this time about knowing my sister, scoundrel," Max retorted. He pulled his hand free, grasped the lapels of Kelcey's jacket, and attempted to give him a shake. The endeavor was largely futile, as Kelcey had mass and muscle enough for two, but Max hardly minded that Kelcey used it to move in closer, bringing their bodies flush. The impropriety of it all should have given Max pause, gods knew he hated when Mavin's behavior got out of hand in public, but he really could not bring himself to give a damn. "Where is my present?"
Kelcey kissed his nose. "You'll get it when you get it, my lord. Shall we go to dinner? The sooner we are there, the sooner you get it, after all." He held out his arm again and Max took it.
The sky steadily clouded over as they walked, and a light rain began to fall just as they reached the restaurant, a beautiful building right up against the ocean that served exquisite dishes of all the local seafood. Even Max's parents had never had cause to complain about the place.
"Something by the window, please," Max said a hostess came to greet them. She smiled and bowed, led them through the quiet throng of the restaurant to a table tucked into a corner, with lush, white-flowered plants that half-shielded them from the rest of the restaurant, but with glass on both sides that allowed for a beautiful view of the ocean. "Thank you."
Max endured through the main course, but as their plates were taken away and wine glasses refilled, he finally lost his patience. "I want my gift."
"So like a lord," Kelcey replied. "Thinking that demands will always get you what you want. I have a great deal of experience with demanding lords. You will have to try harder than that."
Narrowing his eyes, he said, "I did not make you work for
your
surprise, sir."
Kelcey's grin was unrepentant. "That is your mistake. I am rather enjoying frustrating you, my lord."
"Frustration can be inflicted in both directions, and I can frustrate you while appeasing myself. Remember that."
"Indeed." Kelcey took a generous sip of his wine. "I'm not certain if that is a threat or encouragement."
Max folded his arms across his chest. "Give me my gift and you will not have to find out."
Kelcey just kept grinning. "Say 'please'."
Tossing his head, scoffing, Max replied, "I never use such words unless there is a hand upon my cock."
"That is a lie. You get even bossier."
"I think you are mistaken."
Kelcey's reply was forestalled as a server arrived to leave two bowls of rich custard, along with glasses of brandy. When he had gone again, Kelcey reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, worn-looking pillbox. It was the kind that Max's mother had owned practically by the crate. She had lost them so frequently, bought another, only for the servants to find the mislaid ones, until there had been more than Max could count lying about her bedroom and the music room where she'd spent so much of her time.
He took it as Kelcey held it out to him, heart thudding in his chest. What was Kelcey giving him? It rattled quietly as he took the pillbox, and despite his curiosity and teasing he almost gave it back. Casting Kelcey a curious look, further disquieted by the somber, slightly anxious look on his face, Max finally opened the pillbox.
Inside was a plain silver signet ring. Not one he recognized, just a … well, circle of linked circles, with a star in the center. Handsome, for all its simplicity. Max picked it up, noticed there was something written on the inside.
Always question.
He drew a sharp breath. "This belonged to your mother or father."
"Mother," Kelcey replied. "She'd given it to me that night before they tried to carry out their plan. She said I was old enough I should have a ring, too, that I could wear it around my neck until my fingers were big enough. It's funny all of the little things a child does not notice, that make so much sad sense later." His mouth twisted briefly. "Most of my family's belongings are long gone, but I retained a few trinkets. That's one of them. My fingers outgrew it years ago, and it is not advisable for me wear it anyway. My family's motto seems to suit you. It's not the fanciest ring, but …"
"I only do fancy when Mavin insists upon it." Max slid the ring on his left hand so that it mirrored the family signet on his right. He was absolutely certain he did not deserve something so important, did not understand why Kelcey was trusting it to him, but he was equally certain he would remove the head of whoever tried to take it from him. "Thank you. I am honored by such a precious gift."
Kelcey shrugged, but his smile widened slightly as he lifted Max's hand and ran a thumb over the ring. "It was just sitting around collecting dust. Better to put it to use, I should think."
Max twisted his hand to curl his fingers into Kelcey's. "I will treasure it always."
If Kelcey had pale skin, Max had no doubt that right then it would be the color of a ripe strawberry. "Here I was certain you would take the chance to jest about things being put to use."
"That was coming next."
Kelcey snorted. "Indeed."
Max picked up his spoon, mouth curving as he began to eat his dessert.
The smile did not fade the rest of the night, even when the rain returned abruptly halfway through their walk home and they reached their hotel soaking wet.
Chapter Eight
"I'm so very sorry, my lords." The coachman licked his lips, ducked his head, and Max could just see his throat working.
Max groaned. He was tired, his head hurt, and he was sore from having gotten off a cramped ship only to go straight into a cramped carriage. All he wanted was a hot bath and a warm bed. The whole rotten trip, from the rough sea trip to the jarring carriage ride, was not the fault of the coachman, and taking his ire out on the man would accomplish nothing. It was not as though he had
arranged
for the carriage wheel to break. "It's quite all right. You could not have known this would happen." He sighed and turned to Kelcey, whose expression was a thundercloud, the same expression he'd worn in that brief, strange moment outside the museum. Max liked it even less the second time. "Shall we remain here and wait for the new carriage, or return to town and take a fresh carriage in the morning? I am thinking a fresh start in the morning is the better option, but if you think otherwise …"
Kelcey never looked at him, never once took his eyes off the coachmen, and his stormy expression seem about to start in with lightning. Max nearly took a step back. He had never seen such a perfect example of a 'threatening look'. He could practically see the words in cheap, heavy type, followed by a breathless description of long, raven locks blowing in an angry winter wind.
Except it wasn't winter and Kelcey barely had hair. "Whatever is the matter?"
"We are taking a horse and continuing on alone," Kelcey said, still not taking his eyes from the coachman, who started to speak, then shut his mouth with an audible clack and nodded. Kelcey jerked his head, and the man scrambled to unharness a horse.
Marvelous. He would be spending hours on a horse, bareback, with an angry husband, in the dark. The way their travels had gone since boarding that damned ship, the bloody rain would return and make of the affair a complete mess.
"I don't think—" He stopped as the coachman dropped down from where he had climbed up to pull something from the luggage packed atop the coach, holding a saddle. Well, that was something. He had not realized they had come so prepared; that must be Kelcey's doing.
He startled when Kelcey turned to him, grabbed his arm, and practically dragged him over to the readied horse. "On the horse, quickly now."
Max expected Kelcey to swing up behind him, but instead he rounded on the coachman, grabbed the front of his jacket, and yanked him in close. The tone of his voice gave Max chills. "If we come to harm, or any of our belongings fail to reach us, I will see you are made to painfully regret it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-y-yes, my lord."
"Good." Kelcey let him go—then grabbed the back of his head and slammed him face first into the carriage, then again, until the coachman dropped unconscious to the ground.
"What in the blood hell?" Max demanded.
Kelcey swung up smoothly behind him. "I will explain later, but right now we need to vacate the premises with all haste." He did not give Max a chance to reply, simply spurred their horse into moving as quickly as it could manage, traveling an unfamiliar path in the dark.
They had not been riding very long when Kelcey abruptly drew the horse to a halt. "What—"
"Shh."
Max shut his mouth and started to feel truly afraid, recalling the way Kelcey had looked at the coachman. He'd never sounded so cold before. What the devil was going on?
Kelcey swore softly, and then Max heard it: horses, at least a few of them, moving fast and getting closer. Not idle travelers if they were in that much of hurry despite the fact it was dark and the road was treacherous.
Clearly everyone else was aware of something, but no one had seen fit to keep him apprised.
Swearing again, Kelcey veered off the path and into the woods. Pressing his mouth close to Max's ear, he said, "Stay quiet, don't move. If I say run, then you do it. No hesitation, no questions, just go. Understand me?"
Max nodded. "Yes."
Kelcey pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then dismounted and crept back to the path. Max quickly lost sight of him in the dark, but only a few moments later the horses came thundering past, guided by wildly swinging lanterns that briefly illuminated Kelcey where he was tucked up against a tree.
When the sound of the riders had faded, Kelcey returned to Max. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" Max hissed.
Kelcey pressed against Max's leg, shaking. He was laughing! "My lord, I should think you of all people would recognize
highwaymen.
"
"This—" Max closed his mouth, huffed. "This is not how it happens in the books."
Kelcey swung up behind him, took hold of the reins, and looped one arm around Max's waist. "Books? Those stories you are always talking about? I hope they are not as bad as those silly erotic things my downstairs neighbor is always reading."
Max flushed hot and did not reply. Kelcey went still behind him, then dropped his head to muffle his laughter against Max's shoulder.
"Shut up," Max groused, and drove an elbow back into his gut. Unfortunately, all that did was make Kelcey laugh harder. "I hate you."
"Do you really—" Kelcey dissolved back into laughter, muffling it with his own hand that time.
"I am going to leave you for the highwaymen." Max elbowed him again. "No, I do not think real highwayman parade about forests on sexual escapades, you ass. I simply thought real highwaymen would be
less
dramatic than all those stupid books.
Shut up."