Chapter Eight
Phillip woke to the delightful sensation of a naked woman curled against him. He pulled her closer, enjoying the warm press of her curves and the steady beat of her heart.
Cora had followed through with her promise. She’d claimed him, marked him forever, and in turn, he had done the same—at least he hoped.
He had come to her with the sole purpose of revealing the truth, and instead, he had become entangled in something far more complicated.
Phillip desired her, he cared for her deeply, but he also knew the truth would muddle everything.
She deserved to know—although he could not foresee whether this new turn of events would prove to be a help or a hindrance in that regard.
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting an ethereal glow upon the room and their bare skin tangled upon the blankets. With a sigh of utter contentment, he kissed the top of her head.
She stirred and stretched like a cat, languid and content in their repose. When she turned her gaze to meet his, a sensual smile curved her lips.
“The storm has passed.”
“I see.” His heart twisted. “I should return before I am missed.”
Cora’s brow furrowed. “The whole village knows precisely where you are, Phillip.”
He pinched his eyes closed and nodded as a sense of foreboding settled over him. “Yes, I—I know.”
“Then stay with me a little while longer.” She ran her fingers over his chest, teasing him. “We can travel to the village together.”
“‘Together.’” He rested his hand upon hers, stilling her questing touch. “Cora…”
“Mmm,” she hummed against his throat as her lips burned against his skin.
Phillip groaned and shifted away, slowly rising to a seated position. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands.
Cora came alongside him, her hand on his arm. “Something is on your mind.”
“Yes,” he murmured before facing her. “Cora, I sought you out yesterday—”
“To seduce me,” she teased. “A success, I would say.”
He chuckled, face warming at the memory. “To tell you the truth…” Phillip said, pushing through the discomfort.
Her hand stilled on his arm. The soft glow of humor fled her eyes as her smile vanished.
“‘Truth’?” she whispered, drawing away. “What do you mean?”
The last thing he wished to do was hurt her. Even though he had never intended to do so, the web of secrecy and half-truths had led them to this moment. A reckoning he dreaded with every fiber of his being.
Phillip inhaled a deeply steadying breath before he spoke. His heart pounded beneath his ribs. “I am not a solicitor for the Duke of Tolland.”
She arched a single, accusatory brow. “Mrs. Mackenzie confirmed that you were at the estate on the duke’s behalf. Why would she lie?”
“Mrs. Mackenzie did not lie to you or anyone else in the village.” He paused, gauging her reactions carefully. “I am the Duke of Tolland.”
Cora let out a bark of laughter. Phillip stiffened and she sobered instantly. “Y—You…duke,” she murmured incoherently. The stark realization washed over her, draining the rosy hue from her cheeks.
Scrambling from the bed, Cora snatched a blanket and held it up like a shield between them to cover her from his view. He silently thanked God for that small mercy, for facing her in such a manner while unclothed had not been his intention. She stared at him, eyes wide, jaw tight.
“You lied to me.” The accusation came out on a sharp exhale.
“I kept the truth from you, yes, but I never lied, Cora.” Phillip shifted closer but realized his state of undress too late. Her gaze drifted over the length of him, pausing at his cock for a brief moment before she turned away.
Once he stood, he located his discarded clothes, hung by the fire to dry, and slowly dressed. Silence lingered between them as he tugged on his stiff garments.
When he turned back to face her, she had pulled on a chemise and was fastening the skirt in place over it. She avoided his gaze as she tugged on the simple blouse and buttoned it.
Both dressed and simmering in the tense silence, Phillip attempted to bridge the gap widening between them.
“Cora, please—” He reached for her, but she took a step back. Phillip lowered his hand to his side in defeat. “You must understand why I kept my identity a secret.”
“To sidle into my good graces.” She glared at him. “You saw me in the tavern and decided to lie to everyone in order to seduce the poor barmaid.” She bit her lip, tears glinting in her eyes.
“No, of course not.” He longed to comfort her, but in a flash, he saw the betrayal and hurt shift to something cold and distant, untouchable.
“I came to tend to my estate and possibly sell it. But when I saw you, I could not let it go. Not yet. Not until I knew with all certainty that there could never be anything between us.”
“I can assure you, Your Grace…” She bit out the words as though they physically pained her to voice them. “There will never be anything more between us.”
“Surely, you cannot mean that, Cora.” His heart shattered at her dismissal.
“What happened between us was a mistake born of loneliness and lies.” She sniffed. “Had you not ventured into that storm, none of this would have transpired.”
“You cannot mean that,” Phillip said, his heart breaking. “I care for you—deeply.”
Cora held up a trembling finger. “I am not some simple, young chit swayed by a handsome face and a bloody title.” She straightened.
“I should have listened to my intuition when you appeared month after month, determined to win my affection.” With a scoff, she continued.
“Did you even need to return to the estate outside the village so often? Or was that an excuse you conjured to continue to lie in an attempt to seduce me?”
“I simply wished to see you again,” Phillip confessed. “You plagued my thoughts constantly.”
“You should have sent a solicitor to deal with your estate and left me alone.” She walked to the door and opened it. “You may return to London—and remain there indefinitely.”
Defeated, Phillip swallowed any remaining protests and pleas. He recognized that her pain and betrayal could not be overcome with pretty words and declarations of love. She needed time—and distance, whatever she required.
“I apologize for my lapse in judgement and any pain I may have caused. It was not my intent to deceive or manipulate you.” Phillip bowed and retrieved his effects.
Cora stepped back as he approached, maintaining a physical boundary between them.
He paused, meeting her gaze steadily. “Forgive me.”
Without waiting for her response, he tugged on his hat and retreated into the damp morning. As he trudged farther from her small cottage, Phillip allowed his head to clear. His resolve settled.
He would wait. As long as it would take. Forever, if he had to. But he could not let her go. Cora was part of him and she always would be. Because he loved her.
The realization surrounded him in a shroud of peaceful acceptance. Phillip loved Cora.
It was madness—a young duke falling in love with a Scottish, widowed barmaid, but to him, it made perfect sense.
Phillip returned to London that afternoon, his intent clear. He would woo her with his actions—and his words.