“My name is Philip,” he said.
“I am aware, but it is not proper for me to call you such.”
His laugh was low, and he paused at the foot of the stairs in the foyer and took her hand. “We share a connection through a spell, we are linked in a manner that I’ve never experienced; therefore, it is not necessary that we have formality between us.”
“What would your parents and the rest of your family say?”
He shrugged. “I do not really care what their opinion is on the matter.”
She did. “I will consider it,” she said and began to climb the stairs to the floor above.
He said nothing else but kept a hand at the small of her back.
It was comfortable and relaxing.
He paused but a moment outside of her chamber door and looked down and into her eyes. There was contemplation but caring as well.
Antonia hated that he was going to walk away, but he could not sleep in her chamber again. They were lucky that they had not been caught the last time.
“Goodnight, Antonia.”
“Good night, Lo…Philip.”
He smiled and winked then strolled away. However, with each step, deep inside, where the soul was only full when he was near, began to ache, just as it had the night before. By the time he reached his chamber, Philip paused and looked at her.
Loneliness stretched between them. It was the only way to describe what she was experiencing.
His jaw was tight, and he took a step back toward her, and continued, and as he neared, the ache lessened and was gone by the time he reached her side.
“This spell,” he said.
“This is madness,” she returned.
“We need to sleep,” he reminded her.
“I know,” Antonia answered as she opened her door.
She no longer cared if she was ruined beyond repair. She needed her rest, as did Philip and neither would find slumber without the other by their side.
Chapter Eighteen
Their rest had been the same as before. Antonia was under the covers, and he was on top. Their backs were touching, and fingers entwined. What should have been an uncomfortable position was not, and neither had moved in their sleep.
Philip heard the door open before he lifted a lid to see who intruded on them and noted the maid. He carefully withdrew his hand from Antonia and slipped from the bed.
The maid was quiet and stepped out into the hall where he joined her and closed the door behind him.
“You have said nothing of what you have seen?”
“No, Lord Chedworth,” she answered. “I never will.”
He stared into her dark brown eyes and decided to believe and trust her.
The servants of Nightshade Manor had seen many odd things, most of which would send others running from the place, but they remained and were loyal to the family.
“Thank you,” he said as he strode for his own set of rooms to prepare for the day.
This emptiness that he felt when away from Antonia began to grow but he had to ignore it. They could not be with each other constantly, and likely it was only until the spell was reversed or after he fully became a beast.
