“We shall discuss it,” the man replied.
“Excellent.” Eleanor smiled then turned to Phin expectantly. “Can you call for the keys?”
“No need.” The prisoner shook his wrists and the manacles fell away. Then he shook off the rope binding him to the chair and stood to step out the iron bands around his ankles.
With a rough sweep of his arm, Phin shoved Eleanor behind him. In a roughened growl, he said, “Don’t you fucking move.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eleanor pressed herpalms to Phin’s back. He’d moved so swiftly to protect her that she barely had a moment to register that the other man was free and unbound. Intensely aware of the tension radiating through the viscount’s body, she rose to her tiptoes to whisper, “I think if he’d intended to do anything untoward, he’d have done it by now. Element of surprise and all.”
Just past Phin’s shoulder, she could see the other man bowing his head in silent acknowledgment.
The viscount’s tone was sharp as he asked, “Why did you remain when you likely could’ve fought your way out of here hours ago? Why allow yourself to be taken in the first place?”
The reply was matter-of-fact. “When I determined the threat was not as I’d suspected. It seemed more valuable to be captured.”
Phin asked, “To what end?”
“That remains unknown.”
Eleanor could tell that Phin still didn’t trust the man or his motives. But her instincts insisted he was not a danger. Not to her anyway. If what she suspected was true—if he was a descendant of that long ago assassin, then his story was irrevocably linked to hers. And to the necklace. He might be the only person with the answers they needed.
The cellar filled with a weighted silence. Phin’s tension radiated through to her as she stood close behind him, her hand still resting onhis taut back. Then he released a slow breath and turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. Though his expression was furrowed with concern and suspicion, there was a question in his eyes.
He was asking her what she wished to do.
For some reason, the gesture warmed her. He didn’t have to take her opinion into account. But he did.
She gave a nod.
The corner of his mouth turned upward and admiration sparkled in his eyes. She struggled not to blush. Then he turned back to the man in black. “If you make one false move, you will not make it out of this house alive.”
“I assume nothing less, my lord.”
It was the first time he’d used the title and Eleanor took it as a step in the right direction.
Finally, stepping back from Phin, she turned and opened the door to see the viscount’s manservant standing alert and watchful. It seemed clear that he’d overheard their discussion as his gaze flew first to meet the viscount’s before sliding with intent concern to the man behind him. Despite his obvious misgivings, however, he then turned to solemnly lead the way back through the house. Phin nodded for their former prisoner to follow the servant as he stepped after him. Passing by Eleanor, he took her hand and tucked her behind him.
Though she appreciated his dedication to protecting her, she didn’t believe it necessary. She was quite certain the man would not harm her. He’d already proven he was willing to protect her when he thought Phin’s presence in her garden was a threat. There was no reason for him to change tactics now.
The viscount’s manservant brought them to a small parlor near the rear of the house. It was a rather stern space, done in dark burgundy with leather chairs and an austere sofa and a full liquor service in the corner. The lights were dimly lit but a fire glowed in the hearth.
Entering the room, Phin glanced to his man, “Some brandy, please, Iago.” Then he gestured toward an armchair as he looked at his guest. “Take a seat.”
The man did so, leaning back in a comfortable posture as he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, propped his elbows on the armrests, and folded his hands casually across his middle. His dark eyes followed Phin as he turned back to Eleanor and indicated she should take a seat on the far end of the sofa.
When they were all settled, Iago handed them each a small pour of brandy. Though it was still quite early in the day and she’d never tried such a potent spirit, her experience being limited to wine and champagne, Eleanor lifted the glass to her nose and took a short sniff. The fumes briefly made her eyes water and she lowered the glass again.
The room had fallen into a tense silence. Iago stood sentry near the door. Phin sat staring at his unnamed guest, while the Protector shifted his focus equally between Phin and Eleanor.
Once the silence had gone on long enough to start making her feel uncomfortable, Eleanor was compelled to speak, “Now that we’ve decided to try to cooperate with each other, might we have a name? Something to call you?”
The man in black held her querying gaze. There was a short, but intense moment when she couldn’t tell what he’d reply.
Then he lowered his chin a notch and said, “You may call me Aadesh.”
Eleanor offered a nod and a quick smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Aadesh.”
