Part 30
It took Max a moment to absorb the age-old title, that was addressed to him. It brought back memories. Ones that seemed so far away, yet were only a whisper away. More precisely, less than a year. But somehow, looking now at the aging man looking solemnly at him, it felt like a lifetime.
Like this was not his home, and he was an intruding stranger. it hurt to have these thoughts. While this stone building was only part of his upbringing, he'd horsed around its halls as a child and worked diligently in his study as a man. When he closed his eyes, he could clearly see the very intricacies and details of ever corner.
" Hello Ives." he responded to the butler he thought had weathered before his eyes.
Respectfully Ives bowed again and moved aside to allow Max entrance. He did not look at him questioningly, and he did not utter a sound. If he had any desire to ask what he was doing here, he hid it well.
As soon as Max stepped over the threshold, he was assailed with visions and the familiar scent of what was. His boots clicked on the polished marble. Max blinked several times, as if to adjust to the blow of seeing his life as it used to be. Candles littered the front hall, paintings and gilded mirrors hung over exquisitely carved tables that sported delicate tapestries. The light of the candles cast a soft glow over shadows and the smooth floor.
He turned toward Ives. Ives approached him and held out his gloved hands. "May I take you coat, your grace." It was a request encroached in a question. Perfect tact from a perfect butler.
Max gratefully shed his coat and handed it to Ives who turned to hang it by the door. While he did that Max took the opportunity to look around more clearly now. While everything appeared as it used to be in his eyes, it now however held a tinge of coldness. A chill that settled in the now seemingly barren stones.
"Where is everyone Ives?" He asked frowningly. He couldn't even hear a kitchen-maid tiptoeing quietly along to and fro from the kitchen.
Ives turned blank eyes toward him. " The servants have all retired your grace. It is past midnight."
"Oh ofcourse." not as if he had time to pay attention to the time as he made his way here. "I presume mother is asleep as well?" The only good thing about this trip was the fact that he would see his mother once again. They had been separated too long. He missed her dearly. She was the only family left to him. His father, the former Duke of Everington had passed away some years ago. That left him with his mother and little sister.
Emotion clogged in his throat. Now he only had his mother.
"I am afraid your grace, that her grace has departed for the country. She left a month ago stating the country air would help aid her health."
Max reared sharply a that and turned to pin Ives with a glare. "Her health? Why? Is she ill? Why was not informed?" The edged worry in his voice was carefully concealed behind a glaring mask.
Ives's face lay in shadows and so Max couldn't catch the sudden, but brief softening features. "Nay your grace. Her grace is well enough, she simply thought it would benefit her to..get away for a time."
Max could never describe the deep relief that swept through him at that piece of information. He nodded in agreement to his mother's wishes. If he had the chance he too would go along with her and relieve himself of all this disgusting wretchedness. But no...let his mother grieve in peace. He would keep it inside, face it like a man, and seek his revenge. "That is just as well. I do not wish her to be distressed about my arrival."
Ives, knowing her grace would not be in the least distressed by her son coming here knew that was not the true reason. "You are not to stay long your grace?"
Max shook his head and started to make his way down the hallway to where his study was. "No. I stay for but a while. I leave once again tonight."
When he got to the door he paused as Ives followed him quietly. "Would you care for anything your grace?"
Max turned and bestowed a small smile at the old man who had served them for generations. He turned the knob and opened the door. "No Ives. I will have all I need in the study, thank you." And when he bowed respectfully and slowly made his way back down and disappeared into the shadows, Max stepped inside the door and shut it behind him.
A solid gold coin landed across the mold ridden table. "So tell me what you know."
It was snatched up like lightning. "Not much sire. No thing real been happenin'. Jest some fellas sniffin' around. Actually one in particular, he be real fearsome..." another coin hit the table.
"I'm looking for a pirate. They call him the Hawk. What do you know about him?"
One Eared John beamed, his rotten teeth gaping at the other man. "Oh yessir I know 'im sire. He be the gent that be so fearsome." His brows furrowed and he looked curiously at the man sitting across from him. "Now if that don't beat all, well be was lookin' for you too."
Before John knew it a strong hand shot out and gripped his filthy collar and hauled him halfway over the table, until he was almost inches away from the fancy pant's face. Blue eyes glinted with steel and a hidden violence that made him tremble.
"You will tell me all that he has asked and all you have answered or I will make sure..." a flash of silver landed at his ear. "That you will lose that name of yours." John gulped and sweat began to fall in rivulets from his brow.
"Aye aye ya fop i'll tell ye I'll tell ye!" His hands clutched frantically at the stranger's, trying to dislodge them so he could move away from the dangerous threat.
The man only laughed deeply and threw him back. John landed heavily back in his chair and clumsily reobtained his balance. Rubbing his neck as if the man's hands had actually been around it, he coughed and attempted to compose himself.
"Well?" Impatience tinged the sophisticated voice. Obviously the man was one of them rich lords and such. He certainly looked rich. One eared John eyed the silver buttons of his vest greedily.
"Oh aye aye. 'e came in 'ere' askin' if some rich lord docked here someplace. Said 'e was Italian and I said you was the only lord I seen. Said you came here on secret business and you left in a mighty 'urry to yer 'omeland." John spread his hands helplessly. "That's all I said, I swear by me mother's grave, god rest 'er soul. We were interrupted before he could ask for more."
The man appeared to be considering what he said. Then without another word he rose from the table, dusted himself off from the stench of the tavern and made for the door. But before he went he flicked a disdainful glance at One eared John, then as if coming to a decision he tossed another couple of coins on the table.
They were swapped up in a blink of an eye.
A steady fire burned in the fireplace, and more candles lit the spacious chamber. It was as if someone still lived here. Like it was sued everyday and hasn't been abandoned for months. The bookshelves looked dusted, and his large mahogany desk was polished and still littered with books and paper, and other straying objects he used.
Moving toward the brown leathered chair that was behind it Max noticed the large pile of letters in between the mess. Ives has obviously been very attentive and Max was very grateful. Ignoring the gut clenching as he seated himself like in the old days, he repeated over and over to himself that it was not time to reminisce and bring back pleasant memories. He had work to do and he had to complete it tonight.
He'd soon have more nights than he could count to close his eyes and remember.
Quickly he sifted through the large pile. He made a frustrated sound as he carelessly disregarded every single one. Invitations to ball and parties and soirees...he mentally cursed the ignorant and silly ton . That was all they ever thought of, and while he sued to attend every one of these balls-for his sister's sake- he was disgusted now.
Then suddenly, one caught his eye. It was a letter from his man of affairs. He was told to a long time ago to thoroughly search into the background of the Italian swine. He never received a reply with the information...until now. It must have come right after he left to set sail. The envelope looked rather worn out.
Carefully he picked up his letter opener and sliced it open. Taking out the sheets of paper he unfolded them and began a close perusal of their contents.
You Grace the Duke of Everington,
As you man of affairs I have diligently researched the man in question and I have discovered from various sources that the Earl of di Galvani has is indeed Italian by heritage, his family lineage goes back a hundred years. The title was bought and whatever fortune that the family possessed was gambled away. The last of that line is the man in question. Records indicate that there is not a single cent that belongs to him and he has made his way, unfortunately, by operating as a smuggler. On the side he is the charming Earl that young debutantes swoon around. He captures the hearts of many and uses them as a means to extract more funds.
It is a dear misfortune that your grace has been victim to this crime. You have my sincerest sympathies. Enclosed in this letter as well is a list of the other victimized families and the exact figures of how much was embezzled from your grace.
Faithfully Yours,
Brian Adders
When Max flipped over to the next page to scan the numbers and names he swore loudly. Bleakly he thought of the money his sister had already wheedled out of him, claiming her desire or need for a new item of clothing or some other feminine things he didn't know about.
" Oh Izzie. " he moaned mournfully as the image of a smiling blonde flitted through his mind. Why?Why!
Setting down the letter down he rose and walked over to the small table that held a decanter of swirling brandy. Pouring a hefty amount Max drank deeply and revelled in the fiery liquid that trailed down his throat and warmed his stomach. For a moment he considered drinking himself to a stupor...just to make the pain go away. Forget, if just for a short while, the dark void his life had become.
But he only took that one drink, just enough to fortify himself against the cold night. He could not stay any longer here. He glanced around the room, and the life he used to live rushed back at him. He could almost see himself concentrating on his work when a loud knock would sound at his door, and before he could reply Isabel would flounce inside looking as if it was an insult to her to even have to knock.
Max swallowed hard and took a smaller sip. She would cross her arms across her chest and demand his attention. And he would give it willingly. Always.
The glass cup almost shattered with the intensity of his slamming it down. Running a shaking hand through his hair he fought to get a hold of himself and quickly walked out of the room. Immediately the cooler, darker shades of the hallway relieved him.
Marching back down the same way he came he quietly called to Ives. He appeared immediately asking what he could do for him, looking solemn as always.
" I am departing, my business is finished here for the time being. Inform her grace that I send my regards but do not tell her that I have come here. I do not wish to have her anxious." He didn't wait for Ives to get his coat and help him into it. Rather he did it himself and quickly made for the front hall.
At the door he paused and turned back to Ives. " Tell no one I was here. If anyone asks I am still abroad and you do not know when I would be due back. If they persist to know the reason for my sudden disappearance, I am away on urgent yet secretive business." He repeated the same order he had spoken a mere 6 months ago. He knew Ives wouldn't forget or slip up, but he couldn't help but be sure.
Ives drew himself up and nodded, which stated he fully understood and he would not mess up.
As Max was halfway out the door he suddenly turned around and gazed deeply into the butler's eyes. An old man that had been with him since the day he was a little babe. One lip curled upward in a semblance of a smile. "Take care of yourself Ives." and then he was gone, leaving the old man to quietly shut the door behind him and listen to his young master's footsteps fade into the night.
As soon as Max's boots hit the deck Michael came bearing down upon demanding to know everything that he did and what happened. His dark eyes shone in the light of dawn, reflecting a furious worry.
"Easy Michael. As you can see I am well enough. I did naught of real importance." Max stated and when Michael gave him a sceptical look he added, " What could I have done in the dead of the night that would be of any true significance?"
Michael appeared to mull that over and then realized that that was indeed true. Carefully he then raked his eyes over his friend to check for any signs that Max was perhaps hiding something he didn't think was significant. Like tears or even a wound. When he was satisfied that Max was whole and hearty he clasped his hand to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"How was it?" he asked gruffly, eyeing him. Curiosity and concern mixed in his voice.
Max released a long breath and silently requested Michael with his eyes to walk with him. What needed to be said could not be said infront of the entire crew. Michael followed without complaint to the other end of the ship where it was deserted. It wouldn't have been, but it appeared the sailors understood that the captain and the first mate wanted to a have a private talk.
"Well?" Michael asked as soon as they were out of hearing and seeing distance. Max sighed and leaned against the rails. " I could find nothing of extreme importance. I went back to the house. Ives informed me mother was in the country. All I could do was go to the study and see if I could find anything."
" And did you?"
Max's eyes turned hard and cold. "Oh yes. I did." his tone was deceptively soft but as deadly as the swift thrust of a rapier. Whatever it was Michael knew it was not good.
"And will you share?" he ventured, cocking a brow up, but speaking gently and softly, as if afraid to scare a wild beast.
" A letter came from my man of affairs stating what di Galvani has embezzled and from whom, there are various families I assure you." He glanced briefly at Michael. " He also explained that he is the last of his line and has no fortune."
" No fortune? and what of his tailored suits and shiny boots? Where did he get those." Michael demanded, frowning mightily at that puzzle.
" Why he bought them ofcourse." Max replied calmly.
"Bought-" Michael cut himself off as he digested that piece of information that totally baffled him. He turned to glare at Max. "Christ Maxwell speak bloody english. How the hell did he get the funds to do all that?"
Max looked at him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "He's a smuggler."
"Jesus Christ!"
"My sentiments exactly."
On their walk back Michael finally broached the subject again, too impatient to wait until another time to tell him what he found out while he went about his mission.
" While you were gone I took it upon myself to scourge the port and try to find some information." At that Max gave him a sharp look.
"Why did you do that? I expressly asked you to stay aboard and take care of things." He said more harshly than he intended. Michael took no notice. He knew that Max went through a lot this night and it was taking its toll on his temper.
" I know but it was a quiet night Maxwell and I thought it would be beneficial." he explained. The way he stressed 'beneficial' made Max suspect that he was somehow successful in that.
"Why here? We have already investigated all the possibilities and nothing has come up." He said finally, thinking of the days and nights he had spent on the hunt for the man responsible for his sister's death. It had been hell. The fury of his hatred and anguish no new bounds. He'd lost track of life, intent only on dragging the son of a bitch back with him and inflicting upon him the most torturous pain. The kind he'd had to suffer.
Michael shrugged. "It could do no harm to try."
" And?" Max didn't realize his eagerness to finally get a real lead until Michael had spoken. He felt this was his chance.
Michael did not leave him in suspense for long. " The kind of information I received required no drugging of the sense or alcohol plying to get the tongues wagging. It was relatively easy infact. All I did was ask around about an Italian man who perhaps was doing business here and if they knew anything about him." Michael gave Max a direct look. " I was told that a French ship carrying Italian cargo sailed from here just yesterday. It was apparently heading to Italy, though I do not know why a French ship would go there and not to France."
Max appeared thoughtful for a moment at this revelation. His quivered with repressed excitement. He sent Michael a purposeful look. " Neither would I Michael. Neither would I."
"We are proceeding too fast Maxwell. We have barely arrived in England and you are ordering we set sail back to Italy. You are absolutely insane." No man has ever dared to speak so to his captain, but at this moment it was an exception. Max had just issued that ridiculous order when he barely touch English soil with his toe.
Max grabbed Michael's collar and pulled him toward him forcefully. "Heed me well Michael. We have no time to lose. We must act quickly if we are to get anywhere. I cannot lose him!" he shouted in his face.
Michael's eyes grew wide at the hysterical light in his friend's eyes. " Jesus Maxwell. Relax you are losing your mind." Max glared and shoved him away. His chest was heaving with every laborious breath. His fists were clenched and his eyes closed. Michael stumbled backward and slowly righted himself, watching Max warily.
Slowly Max opened his eyes. The wild flames that had consumed them were now doused and gone. He blinked several times, as if just realizing who he was and what he was doing. The dark pools that looked at Michael now held a deep anguish that was hiding within their depths.
"Michael-" he started but abruptly stopped, as if unsure what to say. He looked away and then back at him. All Michael could see was an expressionless mask. "Forgive me.." he moved in agitated steps and ran his hands roughly through his hair. He paced back and forth, restless. "I do not know what came over me. It was all uncalled for, I-"
But Michael understood. And so he shushed him with an upraised hand. " Forget it Maxwell. Just...watch yourself." Those words went deeper than they sounded, and they both knew it. Slowly Max nodded and then started walking away. He passed by Michael and paused to put a hand on his shoulder for a brief instant.
Liz struggled upright in the bed. Her limbs had fallen asleep on her. Ofcourse it was no shock since she had been confined to the bed for the past 2 days. It was absolutely horrendous! She was positively dying here!
The fact of the matter was she was bored. Pure and simple. She had nothing to do, bedridden as she was-involuntarily ofcourse. She felt perfectly fine. Her head hardly ached any more and she could move her body without feeling like she was still swaying in that storm.
But Captain stubborn-as-bull would not be swayed on the subject. If she didn't dislike him before-which ofcourse she did- she certainly disliked him now and his stupid rules. Liz beat the bed covers in with a frustrated sound.
She hated that he refused to allow to even get up. She needed to move her body for heaven's sake. Ever since he had returned that night from his errand or whatever it was he had been in a strange mood. She couldn't even begin to understand it. He didn't do anything physical to disturb her peace of mind or violate it, she give him that. He only however, prayed on her with his simple brooding presence. Everywhere she was, he was there, standing in the shadows, watching her. It both unnerved and excited her. But mostly, it annoyed her.
She didn't really know what of make of his behaviour. A few conversations with Maria made it even more confusing. She spoke absolute nonsense and Liz tried not to dwell on her words. They were too impossible. Too improbable. But she couldn't stop herself from having her own ideas. Many came to mind, some made him a dark angel, others a...well dark devil. But the one thought that kept coming back to her, over and over again...well she didn't really know what to make of it, but it just kept coming back... Did he care? She wanted the answer to be yes.
Finally today was the last day she was going to take any more of this. Enough was enough. She wanted to feel like a human being again. Alone in the cabin she glanced toward the porthole. The sun was up and shining brightly, and it was nowhere near dusk...which was about the time that Max came down to check on her.
Eyeing the door carefully as if someone might suddenly burst in and catch her in the act, she stealthily pulled the covers off her and gingerly began to move off the bed. Carefully she started to scoot sideways until she was at the edge. Sitting up she looked at the floor below and then at her feet. She could do this. Her body will be a little clumsy at first but she'll get life flowing back into them.
Determinedly she threw her legs off the side and sat at the edge. She was surprised at feeling a little breathless, but figured it was normal. Testing the boards beneath her toes she felt the cool oak side over the soles of her feet. She shivered. She bounced a little on the mattress. Instinctively she glanced toward the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
Gritting her teeth she pushed herself up and stood. Every muscle in her body screamed and protested and Liz bit back a moan. It was worth it she thought with a strained smile. She was balanced and standing. Perfectly regained of her strength.
That only lasted a few seconds before her body gave out on her with a suddenness at the same time the door opened.
With a cry Liz found herself collapsing to the floor. She closed her eyes tight against the oncoming collision with the hard coldness. Except it didn't come. Infact when she thought about it, she was rather suspended in mid air. And the only things holding her up were a pair of strong warm bands-which she belatedly realized were arms- wrapped tightly around her waist.
Startled eyes flew to that of her rescuer and she gasped. Boiling pools of liquefying amber glared furiously at. She didn't know if it was the feeling of fear that made shivers race down her spine.
"Max" she breathed, clambering to find an explanation for the situation he had found her in. She didn't stop to think why she even wanted to explain in the first place. But she never had a chance to open her mouth again, much less think.
She was dragged forcefully against his rock hard chest, her breasts pressing intimately against him, making her nipples hard. Her breathing stopped. And then his lips were on hers ravaging, punishing. His tongue pushing into her mouth, thrusting harshly. His hard lips moulding her softer ones with devastating brutality.
And Liz opened her mouth and gave back as good as she got.
His hands rubbed up and down her back, moving further down to roughly cup her buttocks and haul her against him more closely. Her softness slid against his manhood and he groaned raggedly in her mouth. Liz moaned as he indecently rubbed her against him.
Liz moaned again, though mournfully when he suddenly wrenched his lips away from hers. His chest heaved and his breath came out in short gasps. Liz was no different. She looked up at him with unknowingly pleading eyes.
She saw instant desire flare in his own eyes and darken. His head lowered once again. She readied herself for the next assault on her senses. Only it never came. When she opened her eyes, he was still looking darkly at her, except it had nothing to do with desire.
His hands moved until he was cupping her upper arms and he brought her face inches from his. Furiously he breathed against her. "What the hell did you think you were doing you stupid girl! Trying to kill yourself? Be free of me!"
Liz's eyes grew wide, and she gaped.