Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Phillip stood stall and rolled his shoulders, trying his best to get them to loosen up. The day had been cooler than the normal and so many people had been out and about taking advantage of the temperature. Evening had descended upon them and his workers had all called it a day, but he still remained out in one of the fields.

He propped his hands on his hips and turned a full circle, staring at his property. Aches and pains owned his body but for the first time in his life he was proud of what he was accomplishing here. More often than not, he was out working with his men and women in the fields.

Who would have thought him purchasing this place would have awakened something inside him that had him longing to do far more than just drink, gamble, and whore around? He’d changed.

A fact that even Lucien had pointed out while he’d been around for his visit. One, in Phillip’s estimation, that had been far too short. He understood though, the man wanted to be with his wife and kids.

They’d spent many of their nights sitting up late in the study, talking about family. Every time they’d discussed how much Lucien enjoyed being a husband and father, all Phillip could do was envision himself in that same situation. With Fyre.

He tipped his head up to get more of the breeze that blew around him, allowing it to dry the sweat plastered to his body. Not that he was ever dry here with so much moisture in the air. But the breeze helped.

Fyre had been religious in coming by on the days she’d agreed to, but he was starting to notice something different in her demeanor. And he wasn’t happy with it. She was more reserved and withdrawn.

He quirked his lips as he walked from the field to where his horse stood tied to a branch in the shade. He needed to see her. Technically they didn’t have another meeting for a few days.

I miss her.

Plus, he didn’t and wouldn’t put it past that ass Caulfield to be making himself known to her. Sure, she still worked on his books a few times a week, but he didn’t trust the man to stay away from her the days she wasn’t going to see him.

Untying his mount, he swung easily into the saddle and, with a touch of his heels, set him on the way back to the stable. As they trotted along, the breeze picked up.

I wonder if she would like to go on a picnic with me?

His lips twitched as he imagined a private stretch of beach with a blanket, food and, of course, his Fyre.

So many things he would love to do with her and to her. Shaking his head, he locked his emotions down the moment he rode up the road to the stable. He passed over the reins with a nod and walked inside.

Keating met him as he got to the top of the steps.

“My lord.”

“Keating. Have a bath drawn for me.”

“Already waiting in your room, my lord.”

He almost smiled. “I am starting to think you actually like me, Keating.”

The man stared before giving a small bow and walking away.

Phillip didn’t dally in getting cleaned up, for he was hungry. Not that much later, he was accepting a tray of food in his study as he pulled out the books. It had become a nightly habit for him to look them over and make sure he’d not missed anything. Truth be told, he didn’t need Fyre to do them anymore. He’d mastered her system and used it with confidence.

But I want her within my reach.

He liked her. Actually liked a woman and hell, she was a woman he’d not even kissed yet. It hadn’t stopped the dreams of her that he experienced on a nightly basis, but short of the occasional brush of clothing, he’d somehow managed to keep his hands to himself.

James reported to him faithfully about who went to see her when she was in town. The one thing he had learned was the increase in times that Albie Caulfield made his way to visit her while she was at her other jobs, working.

“I do not understand how this woman can work so much and still appear so soft and put-together.”

He’d seen her a few times in town, because yes, he wasn’t about to not see her on the days she wasn’t coming to his house. But he was trying to keep it to a minimum, if that’s what it took to protect her. Honestly, Phillip didn’t think that was going to make a bit of difference. Still, he was attempting to be honorable about his actions.

Hard to do when he truly wanted to just walk up to her in the middle of town, yank her hair out of that tight bun she tended to wear it in, let her bonnet flutter away in the street, wrap her hair in his hand and plunder her mouth.

Claim her.

Make it clear that she was his woman. And that everyone else, Albie Caulfield included, should stay the fuck away from her.

He clenched his hand around his fork and had to take several deep breaths before he brought himself back under control. Cutting his gaze to his left, he found a footman standing there, staring off into space.

His house was empty.

He had no one to talk to over a meal. A realization he was no longer okay with. It had been wonderful having Lucien there before, but he wasn’t really the person he wanted in the room with him, sharing a meal.

Keating stepped into the room and walked up to him. Fork down, he waited for the man to speak.

“Ms. Gwen is requesting an audience, my lord.”

Anticipation licked through him like fire on wood. While wanting nothing more than to pump his fist in the air and yell, he reached for his drink. As he sipped, he tried to figure out why she’d shown up.

But she’d been clear as she avoided him as best she could, that she didn’t want to be near him.

A truthful fact, even as it was a painful one.

“Show her in, Keating.”

He spent the short time he had left alone in a desperate attempt to get himself back under control. Something he’d learned he was in short supply of when it came to this woman.

She trailed Keating back into the room and gave him a small curtsey even as she thanked the butler. Then her focus was on him.

Completely.

How it should be.

“Have a seat. May I have them bring you something to eat? Drink?”

She sat away from him and shook her head. “No thank you, my lord. I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

He picked up his fork only to set it right back down. Something was off with her. She fidgeted. One thing he’d never known her to be was fidgety.

“What is the problem?”

“No, problem, my lord. I was just wondering if perhaps…” She shook her head. “Never mind, my lord. I do apologize for the interruption.”

“Sit down.”

His command came out something far more like a growl than a request, but something had happened to him when she’d begun to move back from the table. And him.

She listened without hesitation, her hands out of sight so he couldn’t see if she shook or not.

“Tell me, Fyre, what the blazes is going on. I do not want to hear that you figured it out, that you had made a mistake, nothing like that.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and gave a small shake of her head.

“It is nothing, my lord.”

Phillip pushed back from the table and walked toward her. Fyre held his gaze until he was over halfway to her side, then that brown stare darted away from him, focusing everywhere else in the room.

Dragging the chair right beside her around a bit, so he could see her when he sat, he did so with a groan as her subtle scent washed over him. That did it. She flashed her gaze back to him, concern leeching in.

“Are you all right, my lord?”

Not giving a fuck about where they were or who of his staff may be watching, he reached out and dragged his knuckles down her cheek. God, her skin was so smooth.

“If I say no, will you play doctor with me?”

The silence between them was charged with sexual tension. He hoped he’d not pushed too far too fast.

Fyre leaned infinitesimally closer. “All I know about doctoring is the bloodletting.”

His heart skipped more than a few beats. She was teasing him, and doing so with a small smile on her face. This woman continued to amaze him.

“You are a fast learner, you can pick up something else…more…gentle.” He tucked some of the loose hair from her bun behind her ear. “Tell me how I can help you, Fyre.”

Her retreat from him was complete before she moved. Walls snapped up around her and he mourned the loss of the moment.

“I had wanted to know if we could postpone the session tomorrow.”

He sniffed and leaned back in his chair. “What is so important you need to shove me aside?”

She looked generally appalled by his question. Phillip didn’t try to assuage her feelings. In his mind, that’s exactly what she was doing.

“I was not trying to make you feel…”

He raised one eyebrow, wanting to push. So much. Push his tongue into her mouth. Push her body into his. Push into her.

“Maybe if it was an hour later? The same day.”

Her distress was genuine, but Phillip knew he wasn’t a completely nice guy. Barely nice would be far closer. What he was, was possessive. Especially when it came time to his time with Fyre. With her, he wanted to hoard it all and not share.

“Why?”

“Why what, my lord?”

He stretched out his legs, crowding her in her seat. Trapping her unless she scrambled away and over the table. His lips twitched. He could be very happy with this woman on the table.

His staff would have gossip for days.

“Who is so important that you are shoving me aside?” He glared at her. “And do not lie to me.”

Fyre closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped. This was supposed to have been easy. Come out here on an unscheduled day and ask him to change their meeting time.

How do I constantly underestimate this man?

“Is it Caulfield?”

She couldn’t explain away the anger and jealousy she picked up in his tone. It never failed when Albie came up in the conversation.

“Answer me.”

Two words from the Earl of Edais. Two rumbled and dangerous ones.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Fyre’s gaze snapped open at the unmistakable refusal he gave. “What?”

He leaned back and lifted a brow, looking every bit the arrogant member of the peerage he was.

“You asked me a question. I gave you my answer.”

“My lord, surely…”

His lips flattened in what she believed to be serious irritation.

“Fyre, I hired you for a job. We sat down and went over the schedule of that job. If you have something else, or someone, who takes precedence over our agreement, we could end the entire thing.”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill free. “Why are you being like this?”

He stood and walked away from her. Damn if she didn’t want to reach out and grab onto him, holding him tight.

Kissing him.

This wasn’t the man she was used to being around. Cold. Clipped.

Albie would change his time. It would cost her, of course. However, he’d sprung this additional paperwork on her, saying he’d ‘forgotten’ about it until today. It wasn’t ideal but perhaps worth whatever deal she would have to make with him to have him accept the time change. But the sad part was, she actually liked the time she spent here, with this man, and didn’t wish to give it up. Then again, with this attitude, maybe she had been wrong about him all the way.

“Very well, my lord. I will figure it out. I beg your forgiveness for bothering you with my problems.” She slipped from the chair and went to the door.

“Are you going to be here or have you quit?”

Cold, harsh words.

She never looked back at him. “I will find a way to be here.” Then she slipped out the door and walked to the front, where a footman opened the exterior door from the cool interior into the hot outdoors.

This was what she’d needed. A reminder that she wasn’t even close to being his equal. Not a lesson she would forget. Without looking right or left at the men who milled outside, she walked down the long drive and headed back to town.

Now, now, she allowed the tears to slide free. Perhaps Elonne had been right and she should have let him quit that place for her.

She shook her head, still not bothering to dash away the tears on her face. By the time she made it back into town, the tears had mingled with the sweat on her face and weren’t an issue.

Fyre attempted to smile at a young boy she passed but couldn’t do much more than grimace. Walking into the store she needed to be at, she took a few moments and cleaned herself up, then went to the back and knocked on the door.

She stopped by Mr. Olden’s every other week to work on his books. Typically he was out front and just told her to head back. However she’d not seen him and this door was closed.

“Who is it?”

Scrambling sounds reached her and Fyre stepped back. “Gwen, sir.”

Silence.

“Come on in.”

“Yes, sir.” She opened the door a bit and was hit with the smell of sex. Pushing the door fully open, she stepped in.

Mr. Olden was standing behind his chair and sticking out from the other side of the large chair she could see some petticoats. She flushed. No doubt that woman was on her knees and Fyre could only assume as to what was going on.

“Work out front on the books.”

She walked to the desk and reached for them. “Very good, sir.”

He grabbed her wrist as she began to lift the tomes.

“What did you see here?”

“What I always see, Mr. Olden. You working in your office, waiting for me to do my job so you can get back to yours.”

He’d not stopped moving and when he released her, the chair he’d been behind had moved, allowing her to see his pale shaft driving deep into the open, waiting mouth of Mrs. Collier.

By a miracle, her expression never slipped from the fixed one Fyre had put there. She just lifted the books and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

For whatever reason, that pushed her to thinking about that act, not with Mr. Olden, heavens no, but with Phillip. She snorted as she pulled up a stool and opened the book.

I have no business thinking of him as Phillip. I have no business thinking of him at all.

Yet, it didn’t matter how mad she was at him for his behavior toward her, she still wanted him. Wanted to be on her knees before him. Wanted to have her skin flushed like that, due to time spent with Phillip.

Luckily, Mr. Olden left her alone to do his books her way. He had a bunch of written notes in there for her to address and she did so with expediency. She finished up the job in half the time she had expected it to take.

Carrying the books, she once again knocked and, without looking anywhere but at the desk when she was bade enter back in, she placed them down and left. Fyre was determined not to notice that Mrs. Collier was now bent over the back of the settee, her skirts rucked up around her waist, and that she was being fucked.

Hard.

From the noises she made, Fyre could only assume she was enjoying herself.

“See you in two weeks, Miss Gwen.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, shutting the door behind her.

Being done early gave her some time to go see how Albie would make her pay to adjust the time. Her hope had been that Phillip would agree to adjusting, but as he’d refused, she had to broach it with Albie. One of them had to make a change. As she walked over to Albie’s business, a heavy weight settled on her chest. She didn’t like the position she was about to put herself in.

Not that there was much of a choice.

“Gwen!”

She turned toward the sound of her name and immediately bit back a groan of frustration. Cara.

Her sister-in-law flounced across the street to her, face pinched in displeasure.

“Cara.”

“Where is our money?”

The question wasn’t loud, and it came out of her mouth like a hiss, but the cold reality of it jarred Fyre.

“What money?”

“The money you gave us before. We need that to survive.”

“I gave you money because I was living there, and because of that, I was helping out. Now I do not live there and am no longer eating your food or sleeping under your roof. You do not get my money.”

Cara narrowed her eyes and Fyre lifted her chin, waiting. The smack of Cara’s palm came without warning, making tears blur Fyre’s eyes.

“I never liked you, Gwen. You have grown snobbish ever since you decided to take that job away from your brother, lowering his earnings. He has a family to care for. No matter how often you lie on your back for the earl it doesn’t make you a better person even if you are finally out of our house.”

So much to address and she didn’t want to focus on any of it. Not even a tiny bit. Yet, she did. “What job did I take from him?”

“The one with the earl.”

“Is that what he told you? That I took that job from him?”

“We know it is true and now my children will be hungry because you wanted to spread your legs for—”

Crack!

Cara gasped and placed her hand on her cheek. Fyre had smacked her across the face.

“Everyone knows it is true. That is why you are there so much of the time.”

So many things dangled from the tip of Fyre’s tongue, just longing to be freed. She swallowed them back and, ignoring the tears in her eyes for the second time in one day, she turned and continued on her way.

“Are you okay, Fyre?” A boy glanced up at her as she passed, a worried expression on his face, even as he glanced behind her where she assumed Clara still shot daggers at her.

“Sure, James. Fine.” She tried to smile at him as she walked along. The boy had been popping up around her more and more lately. Not that she minded, he was a good child.

Albie waited for her and stepped outside into the sun when she approached.

“Are you okay?” He moved closer. “Gwen? Come on inside.”

“No, I think I would prefer to stay out in the sun.”

She was so cold on the inside. Was that truly what everyone thought of her?