Page 42 of The Earl's Spark


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“I have far too much respect for her to even continue that discussion. I can get a whore when I want one. I will never look at your sister in such a light. Have a good night, Mr. Parker.”

Phillip walked out of the room and, in his peripheral vision, watched as Keating entered to help Elonne on his way.

* * * *

Laughter spilled through the kitchen. Fyre wiped her eyes before tackling the large ball of dough before her. She was hanging out with Georges and Marta in the large bakery belonging to Georges.

The man had broken his arm and she and Marta were helping him so he didn’t fall behind. While she could cook and bake, Fyre didn’t have his expertise in doing all the breads he did. So the man was giving directions while she did her best to follow them.

The sun had yet to even think about cresting the horizon and she had been at this for two hours already. Every second that passed gave her more and more respect for the baker. At least they had coffee and food to snack on, because this…this was some incredibly serious physical work.

She worked the dough as Georges regaled them with stories of his youth, while Marta formed loaves from the dough she’d already worked to slide into the oven.

Using the mezzaluna Georges had placed beside her, she cut sections off to create more loaves. Her stomach rumbled again. This baking bread smell was making her mouth water.

He moved closer to her, his damaged arm in a sling as he looked over what she was doing.

“You ever want to get into baking, Gwen, you could be a fantastic assistant.” A grin. “Perhaps even take over when I am no longer able to work.”

“Thank you, but I think I would eat all of this if I started working here. How do you not just eat every bit of it? The smell is incredible.”

“It balances out. You work it off.”

She nodded. Her arms were already aching and she knew her back was going to be sore as well. But she would see this through because Georges was so nice to her, she wanted to give back.

Feeling as if she’d already put in a full day when the sun finally peeked over the horizon, she moaned as she stretched. She was sore, but in a good way. As soon as Georges opened up his shop, there were people there to purchase the fresh bread.

She and Marta carried bread to people and helped them get their loaves. Marta cleared her throat and Fyre looked up to see Mrs. Callie, the cook’s assistant for Hawk’s Cove, there in line.

The other woman gave her a smile and a small wave.

“Morning, Miss Gwen.”

Unable to not return the smile, she gave a small curtsey. “Mrs. Callie, good morning.”

“You work here as well?”

“Helping out Georges as he hurt his arm.” She took the sheet the woman handed over and skimmed it fast, making note of how many loaves and what kinds were wanted for the house. “I will be right back.”

Fyre didn’t take long to fill the order and was placing the bread in Mrs. Callie’s basket in short order. With another smile, Mrs. Callie was on her way and Fyre got back to work.

They didn’t finish their rush until a little after eight. Having been up since two, she was ready to get in a nap. After ensuring that Georges was good for the rest of the day, she walked home to get changed and head out to do some of her normal things for the day.

At least she only had one person on her schedule for doing books. Unfortunately, it was Albie.

At her home, she cleaned up and was partaking in a small cup of tea when the door opened and her brother walked in. Her heartbeat began to race as the hair lifted on the nape of her neck. Clenching her fingers around the warm cup, she willed them to stop shaking.

Not willing to show him how much his actions scared her, she remained at the table, working hard to make sure to keep her face closed off from all expression. He would pounce like a predator if he knew her weakness.

“Where have you been this morning?” He slammed his hands down on the table.

That got her to flinch.

“You are not my keeper, Elonne. You have no right to barge into my home and demand to know where I was.” One hand she kept around the mug, the other she hid in her lap, to keep her trembling a secret.

“I was here around six and you were not home.” He leaned closer. “Where were you? Were you with that English lord?”

She shook her head and got to her feet. “You have gone too far, Elonne. I appreciate all you have done for me in the past but this is over. Who I am with and what I choose to do is my business. You have made it abundantly clear that I am already a disappointment to you and the family because I will not listen to you now that I have moved out. I want you to leave.”

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