Improbable Eden by Mary Daheim Page B

Her long lashes dipped with chagrin. “I escaped.”
    Max was staring at the top of her head. “So it seems.” He checked an urge to laugh, and marveled at himself. This grim fortress was scarcely the place for merriment, yet even within these cold walls the silly chit managed to provide more amusement than he’d known in the past four years. To his dismay, he found that it took an effort not to place his big hand over the small one that rested on his chest.
    She was looking at him with those wide, dark eyes. “And you? You are no longer locked up, either?”
    â€œ That’s true.” The high cheekbones displayed just the hint of a flush. “They released me. There are, it seems, some advantages to being a foreigner in England.”
    Eden’s hand fell away. “You mean that His Lordship is not free?”
    Max was vaguely embarrassed. “My … friends have not been able to secure Jack’s release. As soon as I’m out of this wretched place, I shall see to it.” He paused, securing his cloak more tightly around his neck. “Indeed, I must be off to get this matter straightened out.”
    â€œ Wait!” Eden all but pounced, stopping Max in the act of turning away. “You can’t leave yet.” Was he abandoning her because she had been so pert? In truth, it would serve her right. “I have these,” she said, brandishing the keys she’d purloined from the guard. “Can’t we free His Lordship and rectify this injustice?”
    With one swift movement, Max snatched away the keys. “This isn’t Kent,” he said grimly, ignoring Eden’s spurt of resentment. “You’d only make a bad situation worse. You don’t understand court politics.”
    Eden considered briefly. He was right, and she had no choice but to agree. After all, Marlborough had expressed great confidence in the Prince, both as a friend and patriot. Though she had known Max but briefly, despite his aloofness there was something about the man that evoked her trust. “Please,” she begged, a tremor in her voice, “then at least see that I get out of here safely.”
    Max shifted his considerable weight and looked anxious. Accepting responsibility for Jack’s illegitimate daughter made him uneasy. Max had never been convinced that the Earl’s plan was feasible, and after meeting Eden, he questioned her ability to play the part Marlborough had written for her. Yet she was an appealing little creature, and he could hardly abandon her to an unknown fate in the Tower. “Yes, of course. Jack would want me to,” he added, more to himself than to Eden. “All right,” he said brusquely. “Let’s hurry. The guards might try to detain you, no matter what I tell them.”
    With a sigh of relief Eden clutched at her torn dress, gathered up her cloak and hurried after Prince Maximilian. She felt like a newborn foal chasing a sure-footed stallion. With a pang of remorse at the thought of her father still languishing in a cell somewhere inside the Tower, Eden came out into the sunlight and took in a dizzying breath of freedom.

    Under a pale winter sun, the tumult of London sprawled westward into the City itself, and beyond to their destination of Westminster. Skirting Billingsgate Market, where the odor of fresh fish hung heavy in the air, they passed London Bridge on their left. Eden would not have guessed that the crowded edifice was anything but another street. Max had to point out to her that for centuries the bridge had been no mere river crossing, but host to a variety of commercial ventures, including some of London’s most famous shops.
    â€œ Strange, wondrous strange!” marveled Eden as Max warded off a pretty hawker of hot baked pears and pippins. A cartload of bricks rumbled by, splattering dirty snow on Eden’s skirts. Now that they were out of the Tower, her emotions were in a jumble. Even