Page 91 of The Earl's Spark


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“You do not see this from my position.”

“I think I do.”

The anger in his words pushed her and she snapped her gaze to his. “Do you? Really?” She rose and put her hands on the table as well, squaring off with him. “You know what it is like to still have to worry they will burst into your home at night and take you away to wake in chains? Or hanging from a tree? You know what it is like to go into a house to work with you or do other things, knowing full well that women and men were held captive there, they were slaves and had no say in what happened to them or their families? Do you know what it is like to be ostracized from your own people because you are too weak to work in the fields and help bring in money that way, but to thrive in something that is typically a man’s domain? And do you know what it is like to have the richest man on this island ply you with attention, steal your heart and make you fucking scared to breathe because you worry one morning you will wake up and it will have been nothing but a memory?”

He stared at her.

“Because I do!”

“I did not know where I live was such a sore spot for you, Fyre. I do not see a slave when I look at you. I see the woman I will do anything to fucking protect. That is why I paid off your brother’s debts and put the money back into your account, because you should not have to take care of him at the expense of your own security.”

“You did what?” Her voice hit a high note.

“I want to take care of you, Fyre. I want to buy you things, take you on trips. See the world with you at my side.”

“You had no right to interfere in that.”

“Yes, I did. You are my fiancée and I will do as I see fit to keep you safe.”

“I doubt I was even your fiancée when you did that.”

“Not officially, perhaps.”

Her heart tripped. “What does that mean?”

“That I knew I wanted to marry you from when we met. I saw you working in the store and my heart was yours.”

“How do I know this is not just a way to get my people to see you in a better light?”

“You do not think that of me, Fyre. I refuse to believe you do. For whatever reason you are allowing that bastard Caulfield’s words to have meaning. In turn doing exactly what he wants them to do. Split us apart.” He walked to the door and out. He didn’t slam the door but closed it with a final click that shattered her remaining composure.

She sank to the floor, the tears having escaped, and sobbed at the loss of everything.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Anger pumped through Phillip as he made his way through town to Caulfield’s shop. He hadn’t seen Fyre since this morning but his rage hadn’t lessened. Not in the slightest. Taking two deep breaths before he walked in was the best he could do.

There was no one in the front and he didn’t even slow, just marched through to the door leading into the back. Tossing the door open, he paused as he watched Miss Asherford on her knees sucking Caulfield’s cock, her breasts hanging out of her shift, red lines over them, indicating they had been caned or something like that.

Caulfield blanched, a feat for a man who seemed allergic to the sun, and gulped. “What the hell are you doing, my lord? This is a private room.”

“I do not give a fuck who you are sticking your dick into as long as you stay away from my fiancée. And stop trying to fill her head with lies.”

The grin on Caulfield’s face was diabolical. Caulfield pumped his lean hips, driving his cock all the way into the woman’s face, his fisted hand holding her there as she choked and sputtered around him, but he didn’t allow her to move back.

“I only told her the truth. You want the access she gives you to the Blacks on the island.”

Did it matter that duels were outlawed in England? Phillip didn’t give a fuck.

“I want Fyre because I love her and she will make me a perfect countess. The fact it accomplishes you do not get her makes it all the more pleasing for me.”

A gasp came from behind him. He whipped around to see Fyre standing there, eyes wide as they looked at him then moved to the sight of Caulfield and Miss Asherford, whose face was turning a fiery shade of red.

“Fyre.”

“Leave me alone,” she snapped. “Both of you.” She stepped away from his touch. “And for Christ’s sake, Mr. Caulfield, let her breathe.” Fyre bolted.

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