Victoria glanced at Max. His body relaxed, lean and long, in the chair next to hers; he looked as though his best friend had just wandered up and mentioned that the sun was beaming. His smile showed even white teeth and a gentle dent in the skin next to the corner of his mouth… but she recognized the edge to that innocuous smile.
"And who is your lovely companion?" Sebastian slid into the third seat at the table, to the left of Victoria. The three of them sat in a wide vee, with Victoria at the apex, facing the open room.
Before Max could reply, she had to save the moment. "I must have the advantage, then, Mr. Vioget. I am Victoria Grantworth, and I must confess I am aware that you are the owner of this establishment. I saw you the last time I was here." None of which, strictly speaking, was a lie.
Approval glinting in his eyes, Sebastian reached over and took her gloved hand. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Grantworth." He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, watching her with his golden eyes. It brought to mind the last time she'd visited the Silver Chalice—when she'd been dressed as a man, and they'd shaken hands, her slender one in his wide-palmed one.
And then she had a flash of memory of that same bronze hand, fingers splayed, brushing over the warm skin of her ivory belly. Her stomach tightened involuntarily, as if he were reaching to touch it again, and their eyes met as he released her fingers. His expression had changed to amber, and she knew he remembered too.
"How about some of that whiskey you keep in the back," Max said, his voice still low and smooth. But Victoria could feel him scanning her as if trying to read between and under and around the polite words they'd spoken. His unruffled manner merely underscored the power she knew was hidden. The question was whether Sebastian was aware of it.
Sebastian caught Berthy's attention, and somehow she knew what he wanted, for moments later she slammed down the whiskey bottle and two small glasses. This time she did not slosh on his lace cuffs.
"So you have retrieved the Book of Antwartha," said Sebastian after he tipped his glass back. Light from the wall sconce behind him glowed at the edges of his curling hair, giving him an oddly angelic appearance. "I must offer you my congratulations. It was a bit of a moment, there, Pesaro, when you might not have succeeded."
Max's arm brushed hers as he tossed back a healthy swallow of the golden liquid. Placing the glass with deliberate care, he watched Sebastian closely, yet his words sounded nonchalant. "Did you know of the protection on the book? That a mortal must not steal it from its rightful owner?"
Sebastian's response was equally as cool. "I had heard something of that nature." Their gazes met steadily, neither willing to give way.
"Kind of you to have mentioned it."
Suddenly Victoria's attention was drawn to a cluster of movement near the bottom of the staircase entrance. She glanced over and her heart stuttered to a halt.
No.
No! Impossible! Still staring at the entrance, she could barely get the words out. "It's Phillip! Rockley! He's here!" Victoria grabbed blindly at Max's wrist. "My God, he's here!"
Max had been focused on Vioget; now he turned to look at her, then toward the entrance, where she was still watching in shock. She felt her nails bite into his warm skin.
The marquess was standing just at the bottom of the staircase. He appeared to be holding a pistol at his side. And he had drawn the attention of more than one of the Silver Chalice's occupants.
How could this be? She had to get him out of here… but she couldn't let him see her! Victoria dragged the hood of her cloak up over her hair and shifted back into the shadows, realizing that she was going to have to ask Max for help. Her fingers were icy. She felt ill. How had he come here? How could it be?
"Someone you know?" asked Sebastian lightly in his French accent. He was watching them closely, as if feeling his disconnection from the two of them. "I do hope he is not planning to cause trouble."
"Miss Grantworth's fiance," Victoria dimly heard Max explain as her brain fumbled for a solution. "She must leave before he sees her."
Thank goodness he understood. And he was right—she had to leave before he saw her! The shock began to wane, replaced by focus and determination.
Sebastian looked at Victoria in surprise. "Sneaking around on your betrothed? Tsk, tsk, my dear Miss Grantworth." Lifting his eyes, he caught Max's. "I will show her another way out, so she'll not be seen." Apparently Sebastian understood too.
Max appeared ready to argue, but Victoria took his arm again, looking at him from under the hood of her cloak. "Max, you must see to him. Please. Make certain he gets out of here, and home safely. He doesn't belong here."
Sebastian stood, pulling Victoria to her feet without waiting for Max's agreement. "Come with me, Miss Grantworth," he murmured, closing his fingers firmly around her arm.
Victoria sent Max one last pleading look—much as she hated the fact that she had to ask for his help—and allowed Sebastian to lead her two paces from their table and through the door to the hidden hallway.
Max would make sure Phillip was safe.
Max watched Vioget whisk Victoria from the main room. Damnation. What the hell did Rockley think he was doing?
It didn't matter how or why… now the only concern was getting the fop out of here before the vampires decided to take offense at the pistol he was holding.
During their murmured conversation, Rockley had only scanned the room and taken three uncertain steps farther into the pub. If he'd seen Victoria, it had been only as a shadowed figure.
"Rockley," Max said as he approached the man, who still stood at the entrance, looking around and gathering the attention of every undead in the room. Fresh blood was always better than the kegged stuff Vioget kept in the back. "May I offer some advice? Put the weapon away. You won't need it here."
The fop looked at him, and Max was gratified to see that there was no fear in his eyes, nor was there the jumpiness that often accompanied men who waved pistols around in the form of courage. His look was not only steady, but unsurprised at seeing a face that he recognized.
"It was necessary to get from my coach to the door to this place," Rockley replied, tucking the pistol into his pocket. "And I'll use it if I need to in order to find Victoria and get her to safety."
Here was where Max had to show his skill as an actor—better, he thought snidely, than Victoria and Vioget had done earlier with their demonstration of a first meeting. "Victoria? What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Rockley?"
"She's here somewhere. I followed her, and I cannot imagine what she is doing here! In a place like this." Even as he spoke, his sharp eyes darted around the room again, as if to assure himself she hadn't reappeared. "What are you doing here?"
"I haven't seen Victoria," Max said unequivocally. "I've been in this seat for well over an hour, and if she were anywhere around, I would have seen her. I won't even ask the question why you think she would come to a place like this, in the middle of the night. You must have some reason for thinking so, ridiculous as it is."
"I followed her from her house. I saw her get out of a hired hackney, for God's sake. A hackney! Your cousin got out of the hackney and came down here."
That was right; he couldn't forget that Victoria had told him they were cousins. "How long ago was this?" asked Max, knowing that there had been a lapse of time between his arrival and Rockley's; and Victoria had already been here when he came back into the Chalice after a quick patrol through the neighborhood. Max had been waiting for her since eleven o'clock.
"Some little bit of time," he replied. "I fell into an altercation when I first came out of my carriage, and had to persuade a few gentlemen that I was coming down here, either with their permission or without."