Duke of Midnight (Maiden Lane #6)(79)

“Can’t you?” Her voice was light, nearly careless. “But you’re the Duke of Wakefield, one of the most powerful men in England. You sit in Parliament, you own many estates, you have so much money you could bathe in it, and if that weren’t enough, you go into St. Giles at night to risk death.” She bent to pick up her chemise, discarded from the night before, and when she rose she pinned him with a challenging stare. “Isn’t that right?”

He sneered. “You know that it is.”

“Then, Your Grace, it follows that you can have anything and anyone you like even, apparently, me. Please don’t insult me by telling me otherwise.”

He closed his eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Shouldn’t there be a little bit of joy in making her his? “What do you want?”

There was silence, broken only by a faint rustling. When he opened his eyes she was buttoning his banyan over her chemise.

“Nothing, I think,” she said to her hands. Then, “My freedom, perhaps.”

Freedom. He stared. What did freedom mean to such a wild creature? Did she want to be entirely quit of him?

“I’ll not let you go,” he snapped.

She glanced up at him and her look was sardonic. “Did I ask you to?”

“Artemis—”

“At the moment,” she said, suddenly brisk, “the only thing I want is my brother’s release. You’ve put chains upon him.”

“Of course I put a chain on him—he’s recovering fast and he’s quite muscular.” He frowned on a thought. “You shouldn’t be visiting him now that he can move about—he might grab you.”

She gave him an incredulous look.

He grimaced. “I can find a suitable place for him, perhaps a room with a barred door—”

“You mean a cage.”

“We’ve already discussed this: I’ll not let a madman near you.”

She sighed and came to sit on the bed beside him. “He woke up in a tavern four years ago with the bodies of three of his friends around him. He didn’t kill them. The most he can be blamed for is drinking too much.”

Maximus cocked an eyebrow. “Then why was Kilbourne committed to Bedlam?”

She reached over and stroked his uplifted eyebrow. “Because no one believed him when he said he didn’t remember what had happened or how his friends came to be killed. Because my uncle thought it better to hurry him into Bedlam rather than risk a trial.”

“Yet you expect me to believe him innocent?”

“Yes.” Her lips twisted. “Or rather I expect you to believe me when I say that I know my brother and he would never kill any man, let alone his friends, in a drunken rage.”

He looked at her, so fiery, so brave in her defense of her brother and he felt jealousy that she might feel such strong emotion for anyone but him. “I’ll think on it.”

She frowned. “You can’t keep him locked up—”

“I can and I will until such time as I am satisfied in my own mind that he won’t do someone a harm. I promise to consider it. Don’t ask more of me now.” He saw her hurt and tried to grasp her hand, but she stood and her fingers slid away from him.

“I hope you’ll not bar me from seeing Apollo once he’s well,” she said stiffly.

He didn’t like her near anything that might harm her.

She must’ve seen his hesitation in his face. “You do know I’ve been visiting him in Bedlam by myself for years?”

He sighed. “Very well.”

She inclined her chin, as haughty as any queen. “You’re too kind.”

His blew out a breath in exasperation. “Artemis…”

But she’d already gone out the door.

He threw a pillow at it anyway.

Maximus sighed and quickly dressed before exiting his rooms in search of an answer.

Kilbourne was lying on the cot when Maximus entered the cellar, and at first he couldn’t tell if the man were awake or not, but as he drew near he saw the shine of open eyes.

“My lord,” he said, making sure to stop outside the reach of the chain he’d attached to the man’s right ankle. “Where did you get the emerald pendant you gave to your sister on her fifteenth birthday?”

Kilbourne simply stared.

Maximus sighed. The man might be insane, but somehow he didn’t think him unintelligent. “Look, Artemis says—”

That got a reaction—a growl. Kilbourne rose, a monolith of shifting rock, and reached for the notebook and pencil on the floor beside his cot. He scribbled something and held out the notebook.

Maximus hesitated.

The other man smirked as if aware of Maximus’s wariness, his eyes daring him to come closer.

Maximus stepped forward and took the notebook, stepping back before dropping his eyes to read.

You haven’t the right to call my sister by her Christian name.

Maximus looked the other man in the eye. “She herself has given me that right.”

Kilbourne sneered and lounged back on his cot, staring defiantly.

Maximus frowned. “I haven’t the time for your sulking. I need to know who you truly got the pendent from. I rescued you from Bedlam. Is this not a small fee for your freedom?”

Kilbourne cocked one eyebrow and looked pointedly down at the chain on his ankle.