Page 33 of The Earl's Spark


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He didn’t care. Phillip loved that side of her. That she wasn’t afraid to go after her dreams.

Either way, the thought of others being mean to her pissed him off.

James shrugged, his fingers staying around the glass. “A lot of the people in town.”

“Can you give me an example?”

He nodded. “She was called a whore because she still works for you and Mr. Caulfield and is at your places until late.”

Fury flew through him.

“Wait, what do you mean our places? She meets with Caulfield at night?”

This information gave birth to an ugly jealousy.

James nodded. “The nights she does not come here, she is with him.” Another long drink. “I overheard him tell her that it was her payment for asking him to move an appointment time.”

I just bet it was.

His stomach clenched. Fuck. This was all his fault. Because he had been an ass and wanted command over all her time.

All I did was make things harder for her.

It explained so much. Why she was cold and pulling away from him, why she arrived on the dot and left immediately after. He clenched a fist and pushed out a low breath between his teeth.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, James.”

He shrugged. “I like Miss Fyre. She is always nice to me.”

Phillip smiled. “She is a nice woman.”

“She is, even if her brother is mad at her too.”

His insides chilled again. “Why is Elonne mad at her?”

“She argued with Mrs. Cara. I heard it, they were on the street. The woman was mad because she did not get to have the money from Fyre anymore like she did when she lived at the house with them.” His mouth twisted with distaste. “It was not pretty and she used some mean words. Mrs. Cara hit her first, then Miss Fyre hit her in the face.”

Good girl.

Phillip needed to have a talk with her and today was as good a day as any. She wasn’t due to come back out here for two more days, but he wasn’t about to wait that long.

“Are you ready? I will give you a ride back into town.”

James sucked down the rest of the drink and wiped his hand over his mouth. “I can walk, my lord.”

“I have no doubt. But I am insisting that you accompany me.”

Finally James nodded.

Calling for his carriage to be brought around, Phillip and James made their way slowly to the front. The breeze picked up and he lifted his head into it. Warm air moved along his skin.

When the carriage arrived, the footman held the door and he looked at James. The boy’s gaze moved over the opening to the interior before he shook his head.

“I should ride on the back or with the driver.”

“No. Inside.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Phillip followed him in after giving his destination. Then he sat back while James looked around, taking it all in.

“Where should we drop you off?”

“It is fine wherever, my lord. No need to make an extra stop for me.”

Letting out a boy hardly seemed like a big deal considering what he was on his way to do right now. In town, he had them let James depart and the boy bounded to the ground with a smile. Then he shot up the street like a flash and was gone.

Phillip took several deep breaths as he waited for them to reach the destination he was looking for—Fyre.

When the door was opened for him, he climbed out and took a look around. Not the best place, but the small cottage he stared at had plenty of potential and it was far better than some of the shacks he’d seen on this island.

He strode to the door and knocked.

There was nothing until he knocked a third time. Fyre swung the door open, her hair down around her shoulders, tempting him like a siren, and yet it was her expression that tore out his heart.

Pain.

Sorrow.

Anger.

“My lord.” She tightened her grip on the door. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Give me a moment, my lord.” She closed the door and he ground his jaw. A short time later, she opened it and stepped back.

He cursed himself for not bringing a maid along to make this more acceptable in the eyes of many. Gesturing for the footman to come to the door, he left it open as well before following her into her small home.

“If it is all the same to you, my lord, I would prefer you to just tell me not to come back and leave so I can carry on with my day.”

Her place was spotless and smelled like baked goods.

“Smells delicious.” He gave her a smile, one she didn’t return.

“Thank you, and I just made pastry. You are welcome to take one to leave with, if you would like.”

He knew, in that moment, whatever small amount of ground he’d made with this woman had not just been lost but crushed and blown away. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, desperate to sink into her hair. To bind her to him. Phillip craved the brush of her lips against his.

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