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Maximus’s mouth tightened, but he said not a word as he tied the laces. He threw on his breeches, shirt, waistcoat, and coat. Artemis was dressing just as swiftly, and he wondered if she did this every day: dressed without help. She must, though. She hadn’t a lady’s maid unless Penelope lent her hers. The thought made him more irritable. His own mother and most ladies he knew couldn’t dress themselves without the aid of another. They weren’t supposed to have to do it themselves.
That was the chore of the lower classes.
He snatched up a candlestick and led the way from his rooms. He’d made the trek to his hidden cellar so many times he could’ve done it without the light, but Artemis would need it. His heels clacked loudly on the steps as he descended, and it wasn’t until he stood before the door to the crypt that it occurred to him:
Kilbourne was a murderer thrice over.
They hadn’t bothered to chain the madman because he’d been insensible. Now Maximus bitterly damned his own stupidity. Who knew what waited beyond the door?
“Stay here,” he told Artemis curtly.
She frowned, watching him put the key to the door. “No.”
His head reared back, his eyes narrowing. He simply wasn’t used to anyone disobeying his orders. He took a breath to still his immediate impulse to order her back to his rooms. “We don’t know what his disposition is like.”
Her look was withering. “Which is why I’m coming inside.”
Maximus darted a look at Craven. The valet was examining the ancient graffiti on the wall as if he’d never seen it before and was considering writing an academic paper on it.
“He might be dangerous.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not to me.”
“Artemis.”
She simply reached out and covered his hand with hers to turn the key and push open the door. Artemis started to enter the room, but Maximus was damned if he’d let her go in first. He might not be able to stop her from seeing her lunatic brother, but he could protect her at the very least.
He ducked his head and went inside ahead of her.
The cellar was very quiet. The brazier still glowed with the embers of the coals and a single candle flickered, casting light on the man in the cot. He was still, lying on his side, facing away from the door.
Maximus approached cautiously. Artemis might think her brother harmless, but he’d been found with the bloody bodies of three of his friends. A man capable of that was capable of anything.
He was within a stride of the bed when its occupant reared up like a sleeping giant awakened. Maximus had been aware that Viscount Kilbourne was a big man—he’d carried his dead weight out of Bedlam after all—but somehow Kilbourne seemed to have gained bulk along with his senses. His shoulders were as broad and thick as those of a smith, his head shaggy with untrimmed hair. His beard had grown, and now Kilbourne looked like nothing so much as a green man. Something big, feral, and ancient that haunted gloomy woods and knew not the language of men.
Maximus had thought the tales of the murder scene exaggerated, but the beast before him looked quite capable of tearing a man’s head from his shoulders.
“Apollo.” Artemis started around Maximus.
He caught her arm and drew her to his side.
She shot him an irritated glance.
The one her brother gave him was much more murderous. He stared at Maximus’s hand tight about his sister’s wrist and then raised angry eyes to meet Maximus’s gaze. Maximus was relieved to see that Kilbourne didn’t share his sister’s eye color. His eyes were a muddy brown. The madman opened his mouth and made a choking sound before closing his lips. A low rumble came from deep in his chest and it was a moment before Maximus realized that Kilbourne was growling at him.
The hairs stood up on the back of his neck.
“Let me go to him,” Artemis said, pulling against his grip.
“No.” One thing to let her into the room when he thought her brother still weak. Quite another to let her near this animal.
“Maximus.” Both Craven and Kilbourne swiveled their heads to stare at her when she used his Christian name. She ignored them. “You may come with me, but I will touch and talk to my brother.”
Maximus swore beneath his breath, earning himself a disapproving stare from Craven. “You are the most stubborn woman I know.”
She merely stared at him with an implacable look that would’ve done justice to the most severe of society dowagers.
He sighed and turned to the madman. “Show me your hands.”
