Page 91 of Seducing the Knave
Elle turned in his arms to face him. Without a word, she laid her hand against the side of his face and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His arms tightened painfully around her before he gentled his embrace enough for her to settle into the bend of his shoulder and rest her hand over his heart.
“The desperation ye’ve seen out the window was thick and all around,” he muttered. “It was suffocating. The constant oppression and endless torment inflicted on souls already so powerless. It was around that time I learned the truth about me mum and I started seeing others like her everywhere I went. Hunched over and freezing on street corners, buggering some scrub in an alley for a pittance. We were all just barely scraping up an existence and I fucking hated it. Picking pockets wouldn’t get me the life I wanted so I kept me eyes open for something else. Something bigger.
“I found an old warehouse near Wapping. It wasn’t much but I put it to use providing a protected place fer smugglers and thieves to store their loot and other contraband until they could safely unload it.” She felt his subtle shrug. “Turned out such places are in high demand and a pretty profit can be made if ye’re able to guarantee a certain level of security, which I could. So, I bought a few more warehouses.”
“How many more?” Elle asked, curious.
“Near a dozen.”
Elle lifted her head in surprise. “You own nearly a dozen warehouses?”
He chuckled and gently pushed her head back down to his shoulder. He twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers as he continued in a heavy murmur, “None of that life has anything to do with ye, unless ye masquerade as a secret smuggler,” he teased, tugging on a lock of her hair. When she gave a short little snort, he chuckled and pulled her close. “No more questions, luv. The past is gone. Right here—right now—is all that fucking matters.”
Then he rolled her beneath him and made love to her for the second time that night. It was quiet and gentle and easy. He fell asleep shortly after while Elle remained wide-eyed and staring into the darkness.
It didn’t escape her notice that his story failed to mention his more noble pursuits—namely, the work he did to provide secure havens for those in the rookeries who needed it most. Even so, she’d heard the roughened nature of his voice as he’d spoken of his mother’s death—the anger that vibrated just below the surface. The tragedy of her life had obviously inspired him to help others escape similar fates. She wondered how many of those nearly dozen warehouses had been converted like this one. Mrs. Flynn had said there were other safe houses located throughout London...properties that didn’t exist for profit.
Perhaps she should have told him she knew about the women downstairs...that she knew about the Griffin and his reputation throughout St. Giles and beyond. But she feared he’d put a stop to her recent activities if he knew, and she wasn’t willing to give up her new friendships or the new sense of purpose she was just starting to discover. He’d made it very clear that he didn’t want her mingling with the rest of the household. For whatever reason, he didn’t trust her enough to reveal this aspect of his life. And that hurt.
Chapter Twenty-six
The next morning, Max’s manner was tense and distracted. A subtle scowl hovered between his brows, and when he spoke, it was in shortened grunts. But just before he left, he scooped Elle up from where she was sitting at her breakfast to kiss her with a deep and drugging intensity. Then he drew away just enough to gaze into her eyes for a long-held breath before he released her and strode from the room.
Elle was left to stare after him in bemusement as desire mingled with an uncomfortable dread.
Did he regret his low words of the night before? He’d told her of his mother and of his childhood and his ambition. But he’d shared nothing of his hopes, his plans for the future, his intentions toward her, or where he went every day when he left her alone in his bedroom.
His curt behavior left her feeling roughly out of sorts. And even though the day carried a heavy mist, Elle insisted on going for her daily walk anyway, hoping it might lighten some of the weight that had settled across her shoulders.
As always, Langworth kept himself to a step and a half behind her right shoulder. Despite her many attempts to get him to walk beside her, he always refused, saying he preferred to keep her in full sight at all times.
Despite the poor weather, there were still many others out and about. Elle smiled or waved at those she passed nearly every day and had started becoming familiar with. She stopped to chat briefly with Timothy, the hawker of an apparently endless supply of various metal trinkets, most dented and tarnished but some rather fine. She paused at the women’s wash circle to ask after the baby’s cough and ruffle little Georgie’s hair as the toddling boy grinned up at her. And she exchanged a few more short greetings with the other men, women, and children she’d grown accustomed to seeing along the streets closest to the house.
But then she kept going.
Resisting Langworth’s subtle then not-so-subtle prompts to turn back or circle another block to keep from venturing too far, she stubbornly continued outward. She wanted to expand her experiences and broaden her familiarity with this world. She needed to see more and know more.