Though she sighed, she did not argue as she gazed out at the rear garden gate and the ducal mansion beyond. When she made no move to exit the vehicle, Phin had to fiercely resist the urge to lean toward her…reach out his hand…touch her.
She turned her gaze suddenly back to him. The dark depths of her stare poured into him, with a tingling focus and silent strength.
The muscles along his spine tightened and his stomach twisted in discomfort. He was total shit at goodbyes. Typically, he avoided them altogether. It was clear that she wasn’t going to give him that option.
“Delia’s engagement was announced,” she noted calmly.
It was not the words he was expecting. Thrown off balance, Phin lowered his brows and nodded.
“Has a date been set for the wedding?”
“Sometime next year. June, perhaps.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “A long engagement, then.”
“There is no rush,” Phin replied, utterly confused as to why they were discussing his niece.
“So, your purpose in town is concluded. For now.”
There it was. Clever woman.
He looked down at where her hands were gently folded in her lap. “That is correct.”
There was a long moment of silence and he forced himself to look up again. Her expression was still, almost deathly so. And her gaze was frighteningly direct. “When will you be leaving?”
His throat instantly closed. He should reply flippantly. He should make the moment less weighty, less important, less meaningful. He’d told her he never stayed in England for long—that travel and adventure would always call him away.
It seemed she’d taken him at his word and for some reason, that irritated the hell out of him.
“Soon,” he replied, his back muscles tightening in denial even though tonight had proven that the best thing for her was for him to stay as far away as possible.
She watched him, a subtle tilt to her head. Then she released a breath and nodded before reaching for the door handle.
Phin should have assisted her from the carriage, but Iago was already there to offer a hand.
Shit at goodbyes.
Once she stood in the darkened lane, she turned back to him. Her posture was elegant and graceful, her jaw stern and her gaze quietly fierce.
In a low, but crystal-clear tone, she said, “I hope you find whatever priceless treasure you’re looking for on your many adventures.”
And then she turned and slipped through the gate, leaving Phin to slump into the corner of the carriage as his chest rose and fell and he struggled against a ferocious urge to chase after her.
After what was likely only a second or two, Iago dipped his head into the doorway. “You’re not going after her, my lord?”
He looked at the man who knew him so well and couldn’t formthe word he needed to. So, instead, he shook his head.
Iago gave him a look filled with disappointment before closing the door and leaping back up to the driver’s perch. As the carriage rolled away, Phin was not at all surprised to discover that he’d completely forgotten how to breathe.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Phin spent hisnight alternating between pacing aimlessly about his bedroom, and half-heartedly packing for a trip to…anywhere else. Anywhere that he wouldn’t have Eleanor so temptingly close. At least half a dozen times, he nearly strode from his bedroom and out the front door with the intention of sneaking into her house and up to her bedroom.
He was shameless and selfish. He knew it and hated it. But a part of him just could not fathom the idea that he’d never see her again. Never hold her. Kiss her. Hear her breathy pants in his ear and feel the dewy sweat of her heated, silken skin gliding against his.
By morning, he felt like a man who’d been tortured and tormented by the very fiends of hell. A hell of his own making.
When he eventually made his way down to his study and rang for the strongest pot of tea that could be brewed, he felt like a husk of a man.
