Chapter Thirty-Eight
On the drive back to Mayfair, Phin watched Eleanor as covertly as he could manage. She’d been through a harrowing ordeal, yet she appeared fully composed—if not perhaps a bit stoic. And confused, perhaps? Irritated?
He’d known what she’d wanted back on the docks after the others had walked away.
Comfort. Connection. Another moment of intimacy shared between them.
He’d wanted the same. Madly. Needed it.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d had when he’d realized she’d been taken by a madman after he’d vowed to protect her. He’d never failed so badly in something so damned important in his life. He didn’t know if he’d ever recover.
If Aadesh hadn’t managed to evade detection by Ackerly’s men and rouse them to give chase so quickly, she’d likely be bound for India right now. He didn’t know what he’d have done if they hadn’t caught them.
That was a lie. He knew exactly what he’d have done.
He’d have hopped the next ship to go after her. He’d have scoured the entire enormous country for her. Even though he suspected she wouldn’t have needed rescuing. No doubt she would’ve found a way to escape on her own, long before he found her.
The lady was amazingly resilient. And resourceful. And clever and brave and so beautiful it made his throat close.
Risking another glance at her sitting straight and calm across from him, he was startled to find himself caught in her direct stare. He would’ve liked to look away, pretend he was just casually glancing about. But the lady wouldn’t allow it. Her gaze trapped and held him.
Though he tried, he couldn’t read her.
After a moment, she asked, “What do you think will happen to Ackerly?”
“Aadesh will ensure he receives proper justice for his crimes.”
“Thievery is a serious offense.”
Phin nodded. “It is.” Watching the subtle shifting of her expression, Phin wondered if she was concerned for the man’s fate. But then she continued.
“He believes himself to be the maharaja’s son from the story in Nani’s book, reincarnated.”
Phin nodded, having suspected something like that by the tone in the man’s warnings. “And you are the princess returned, of course.”
She lowered her head for a moment, then lifted her chin to a regal angle, the shadow of a smile curving her mouth. “I wonder who you might be in the story, then.”
A shock hit Phin’s system, like lightning bouncing along his nerves before spreading through his fingers and toes. He knew what she was hinting. And damn him if he didn’t want to be that man. The one she chose. The one she loved.
The one who’d led her to a tragic end.
He forced an irreverent laugh. “Clearly, I’m nobody.”
There was a flicker in her dark eyes, a subtle twitch of her eyebrow before she made a soft sound of amusement. “Clearly,” she mused, shifting her gaze back out the window.
And bloody hell, it hurt.
Like a dagger to the heart.
Her calm dismissal. Her ready acceptance. Her agreement.
He was nobody to her. And even though he knew it was for the best, he didn’t like it one blasted bit.
A few minutes later, the carriage reached Lindley House. When she recognized the street through her window, she turned to him with a scowl. “I should return to the ball. My cousins were only going to be able to excuse my absence for a short time. They will be worried if I don’t return.”
“I’m afraid if you were to reenter the ballroom now, it would likely cause a scandal. People will assume the worst by your appearance.”
She lifted a slim hand to her loosened coiffure before trying to smooth the wrinkles from her silk gown.
“I will ensure that your cousins know you were returned home safely. I imagine, if anyone asks, they are clever enough to excuse your early departure.”
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 form the 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.