Hearts compass, p.58
Heart's Compass, page 58
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?
Chapter Nine
Phillip lifted his head to peer at the sun pushing through the thick leaves of the trees he was under. He sat at a table, a tall glass of cold lemonade before him and another in front of the young child who was there with him.
James.
He was currently on his second glass. His entire face had lit up when he’d drunk the first one, so Phillip had seen no harm in letting him enjoy another.
It was nice, actually, sitting there outside. Nothing on his plate at the moment to do. The day, while sunny, had not gotten as hot as previous ones.
Phillip sighed. Fyre was acting different.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but at their last three meetings, she had been off. That was the main reason this child was before him. James had been doing an excellent job keeping him updated on everything. The sad part was, even he had mentioned how sad she appeared.
“People are mean to her.”
James’ blurted statement pulled him back from not-so-appropriate thoughts of the woman they were discussing.
“Who is being mean to her?”
Sure, he’d been a dick, but dammit, he’d been under the impression she would have dumped that fucker Albie to keep him happy.
I seem to be learning a lot about this woman. She does not follow the norms. Then again, she never has, and the moment I learned she was the one who had been doing my books, I should have known she was never going to be what society considers normal.
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.
Aware that the man standing in the door would just turn his back should he decide to have this woman on her table, he forced himself to remain where he was. Away from her.
She didn’t rush him, just watched as if she wanted him anywhere but there as she waited for him to get off his chest what he’d come here to say. Fyre had her head bowed, eyes down, and her hands clasped before her.
Not the woman he’d come to know.
“It is not easy for me to apologize.”
“Then do not, for I am sure it will be such a strain on you. Good day, my lord.”
The snark falling from her mouth sent the blood straight to his cock, making it thicken in its confines.
She is still in there, the woman I want. And she was, he just had to coax her out once more, and this time make sure she didn’t go back into hiding.
“Look at me.” He commanded her to do this, not wanting to give her another choice.
Her head rose so slowly he was across the room and in her space by the time it had been accomplished. The vulnerability in her brown eyes was a kick to the groin, taking his air and making his knees wobble.
Going against the small bit of sanity in his head, he reached out to touch her, not knowing if he would be able to stop with a single brush.
Fyre stared at the man before her, whose hand currently stroked the side of her cheek. A light brush but one she felt all the way to her core. She didn’t have a clue why he was here.
Torn between pulling away and allowing the contact, she stayed, desperate for the tiny crumb he threw her. Behind him she could see the thin silhouette of his footman waiting in the doorway. The open doorway.
“I want you to work for me.”
“I do work for you.”
She moved back a single step. His eyes narrowed and a muscle clenched in his jaw but he didn’t encroach on her again.
“You work in several different places.”
Fyre waited. She knew that. What she didn’t get, yet, was his reasoning for bringing this up to her.
“This is too much.”
“Many of my people work more than one place.”
He thought about her words before he exhaled sharply. “My people do not.”
She struggled not to roll her eyes. Do his people even work?
Phillip shifted again and she found before she blinked he was right back in her space, his scent surrounding her. Not that it had left her alone, because it hadn’t. Since the moment he’d set foot in her place it had wrapped her up like a blanket, heating her in ways she wasn’t sure she was ready to comprehend.
“Do you know why I am telling you this?”
“No, my lord.”
“God, what I would not give to hear you call me Phillip.” His statement slipped from his mouth so low she nearly missed it. In a louder tone, he said, “Because you are one of mine.”
“I am not a possession.” The words were hot and rushed as she spat them in his direction.
If she shocked him, he didn’t show it. Instead, his lips turned up in a grin that melted her undergarments, making her wet and desperate for his touch between her legs.
“I want to keep you, Fyre. All to myself.” His gaze smoldered as she shivered from his intense look.
“There are islands around that still allow slavery. Perhaps you should sell your plantation and move to one of those.”
He walked around her, touching the nape of her neck in a possessive caress before continuing to look at her small kitchen. Phillip was silent until he came back to stand near her, pushing his presence into her space.
She nearly pulled away so he couldn’t feel the scarring on her neck, but couldn’t find a way to move out of his intoxicating hold.
“I did not say I wanted to own you. I want to keep you.” He stood in front of her again, demanding her focus. “Naked and in my bed.”
Her knees wobbled.
His grin was sinful. “I want to strip your clothes off you and lick you from head to toe. I dream about how you taste and how beautiful you will be as you shatter beneath my touch.”
She whimpered.
He touched a curl and tugged on it. She felt the answering pull in her core.
“I lied though. I do want to own part of you. Your heart.”
He bent and brushed his mouth over hers, stunning her with the action. By the time she’d recovered, he was already walking out her door with a pastry in each hand. He passed one off to the footman and called out, “Get rid of the other jobs, Fyre. I will cover the difference.”
She was alone in her small home, Phillip’s scent still strong in her nose. Wobbling, she made her way to the table and sat, trying to piece together what just happened. With a nervous hand, she touched her lips and closed her eyes.
He kissed me.
A kiss similar to the ones Albie had taken, but unlike with him, this one she could still feel. Her body tingled and wanted more.
She nodded. “More.”
The question was, did she trust him at his word? Or was this just another power play? She would have to have been blind not to notice the tension between him and Albie. Was she nothing more than a pawn in their squabble?
More importantly, why am I thinking of doing as he said?
Because she was tired. Going from job to job as she’d been doing for the past several years was taking its toll on her. Things were a bit better now that she no longer had to take care of her niece and nephews or that house, but there had been a reason she didn’t work in the fields.
She rubbed her chest and the scars on it. Perhaps this arrangement with Lord Edais would help her. If she were brave enough to take the chance.
The man hadn’t flinched when he’d brushed the scars along her neck. Fyre shook her head. No, she couldn’t allow herself to get wrapped up in some creative fantasy her mind was spinning.
Lost in her thoughts, she was shocked when another loud pounding came to her door. Shaking off her improper musings of one Lord Phillip, she pushed away from the counter and got to the door just before it swung open and Elonne filled the doorway.
His face was set in a mask of anger.
“You are just set on ruining my name and Cara’s. How about your niece’s and nephews’?”
Stunned by the venom in his tone, she stumbled back. “Elonne? What are you talking about?”
“How you move out and then have men at your place. White men.”
“Are you referring to Lord Edais?”
“More than one man just stops by and enters your house without a chaperone?”
He moved closer and, for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel protected by her brother, but scared of the man who’d always been present and until that moment defended her.
“He had a footman with him, the door was not ever closed and, not that it is any of your concern, but he was barely here for five minutes.”
Crack!
He smacked her in the face and a sob burst from her as she clamped a hand over her stinging cheek. Unlike when Cara had done it, her brother had put some real force behind his swing, and it hurt.
“You are acting like a whore and you should be ashamed.”
Anger surged. Keeping one hand on the warm imprint on her cheek, she stood straight and stared at him. “I am not a child who needs looking after, Elonne. I am a fully grown woman who has her own place. If you would stop listening to the vile lies spit about me by your wife, you would realize I am still the same sister who worked hard while living in your home. The only difference was I gave you money then. Now you see how much your wife is spending and you are mad. I will not be your target for that anger.”
He scowled and she matched it.
“Do not come back here without an invitation. If I am such an embarrassment, then we can just pretend not to know one another. I have done nothing wrong. I’ve not done anything to shame the family name, other than do a job that you encouraged me to follow. Get out.”
“Gwen—” he began, and she shook her head.
