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“We need to go.” Elonne’s words were short and sharp.
It didn’t look like he had gotten any sleep, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She wasn’t responsible for his actions.
Making sure the children only saw her smiles, she hugged them all.
“When can we come see you again, Aunt Fyre?”
She cupped Elonne II’s face. “Soon. I know it has been a while but I will do better about spending time with the lot of you. I miss you all so much.”
He hugged her once more. Making sure they had their things, she waved as they rode away in the back of the wagon that her brother used to go back and forth to the fields he worked, picking up a lot of the workers on the way so they didn’t get exhausted on the longer walk.
As the wagon went out of view, Phillip slid his arm around her, tucking her close. She didn’t fight him on it, just allowed the embrace. He turned her into his chest and rested his chin on her head.
“You cannot just show up early in the morning, my lord. It is not proper.”
“Why not? I missed you and I thought you would like to know what we found out last night.”
He was right about that. She pulled back and went to make them drinks as he sat at the table. She wanted to change clothes but figured he had seen her in this old dress before anyway.
Once the tea was ready, she placed his cup before him, and he held on to her wrist when she went to move back.
“Yes?”
He cupped her cheek with his right hand. “Good morning, Fyre.”
The heat in his gaze melted her resistance. Their lips met and she whimpered as their tongues twined.
“Hi,” she muttered when it ended.
He stroked her skin, encouraging her to get closer. She would have been fine with crawling into his lap and going from there, but she refrained. Somehow.
When she took her seat, he pulled her closer to him and turned so her legs were between his.
“What?” he said when she’d watched him for a while.
“The way you look at me.” Her words were soft.
“How do I look at you, Fyre? Like you are my everything? My world? Because you are.”
Mr. Caulfield’s words echoed in her mind, their grip unrelenting and deep, about how she wasn’t special and this man before her was using her.
Phillip’s words… They were a dream she’d never thought she would hear directed at her. She wanted to believe him so much her heart actually ached.
Especially at the thought of never hearing this man say anything similar again.
Phillip found a way to inch closer to her, surrounding her with his rich scent she loved having around her. “What is going on in your head, baby? Talk to me.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He pulled back slightly and she struggled not to reach out, clasp his shirt and yank him closer once more. All she wanted to do was snuggle up into him.
“What is the ‘this’ you are talking about?”
“Pretending you want to marry me? Are you trying to get the Blacks on the island to trust you more? I am not the best person to do that with, they already think I am different because of my illness, scars, and love of numbers.”
Thunder grew in his gaze but he didn’t say a word. Just watched her.
She forged ahead. “I see you in town, you know. When you come in. Miss Asherford is always near you, no, not right beside but near your vicinity, and you invited her to the party. Yet she isn’t a business owner, or married to one.”
“Finished?”
One word, cold and clipped.
No, she wasn’t.
“No, but if you want to speak, you are the earl. I am nothing in comparison.”
“Stop it,” he snapped. “Right now, Fyre. What the fuck are you talking about and what brought this on?”
“Mr. Caulfield said—”
He reared back, chair skidding as he shoved away from her. “Mr. Caulfield? You are fucking listening to anything Caulfield says? Why? You know he wants you in his bed and will do anything, say anything, to drive a wedge between us.”
Tears of frustration and fear lined her eyes and fought to escape. She blinked them back, furious at their determination to be free.
“I have known him most of my life.”
“And because I am the outsider, his words suddenly hold more sway than my actions to you since we met?”
“I see her,” she cried. “How she pushed against you. Touched you. She even sat by you at the meals. That is what you should have as your wife. Your countess.”
He righted her chair but didn’t sit again, instead he paced. Back and forth, shoving a hand through his hair.
“If I wanted Miss Asherford as my countess I would have pursued her. I do not want her and I will never want her.” He slammed his hands on the table and she squeaked as she jumped from the loud noise. “Why are you shoving me to another woman? I want to be with you, Fyre.”
