He wanted to see her. And it bothered the hell out of him that he couldn’t have her at his place all the time. She lightened up his world. Being the selfish bastard he was, Phillip wanted to keep that around him, all the time.
Stopping his horse at his destination, he swung down and tipped his hat to a few of the women walking along the street. They smiled and blushed but he didn’t stop, just walked into the shop he hoped to find Fyre at—Mr. Holmes’ Mercantile.
He strode in, boot heels clacking on the wood floor. It didn’t take him long to know that the woman he sought was nowhere in the building. Fyre gave off a vibe when she was in a place. Hell, when she was anywhere. And it was one that resonated through him like part of his own beating heart.
That was absent today and he didn’t like it.
Mr. Holmes was at the counter. He smiled and nodded. “Good day, my lord. Is there something I can help you find?”
Moving toward the aisle that held the toys he’d gotten before, he shook his head. “No thank you, I was just looking to see if there was anything new for my nephew and nieces. Miss Gwen helped me out last time.”
The man tsked and muttered something he couldn’t make out. “She should be back in a few days.”
God, all the questions that perched on the end of his tongue fought to escape. Phillip bit them back. He wasn’t about to beg for information. Not from this man. So instead he looked over the shelves quickly and picked up two new items there and took them to the counter.
“These two will work.”
“I will charge it to your account, my lord. Would you like me to wrap them?”
“Yes.”
He longed to know what was going on. After he finished here, he would track down James and get his answers.
Mr. Holmes wasn’t as fast as Fyre, but he was efficient and it didn’t take long before Phillip was striding out the door he’d entered not too long ago.
It turned out he didn’t have to locate James to learn anything about Fyre, for he spotted her across the street. She had just come out of Caulfield’s place and his heart caught.
It wasn’t fair. This woman could bring him to his knees with nothing more than a look. But unlike other women, he didn’t think she cared about the power she wielded over him. Not in the slightest.
Albie stepped out after her and called her name.
A low rumble of possessiveness rolled from Phillip’s chest as he watched her stop and turn back, protectiveness a swift second given how he read her body language. She was scared.
Phillip swung up on his horse and rode across the street. Both people glanced up at him. Albie’s expression was dark but smoothed away quickly, Fyre’s unreadable.
What wasn’t indecipherable? The way she didn’t hold their gazes, either one of them, but looked down at the toes of her dusty shoes. The slight tremble to her fingers as she flexed them on the strap of the bag she held.
This wasn’t in any way the woman he had verbally sparred with recently at his place. And it bothered him. Who had done this to her? Made her appear…scared and vulnerable. Better question, who was he going to kill?
“Afternoon, my lord,” Albie said, shifting slightly to position himself closer to Fyre.
Another move that Phillip wasn’t fond of.
“Caulfield.” He looked to the woman who had solidified a place in his heart. “Miss Gwen.”
A slight curtsey. “Lord Edais.”
When she straightened, her collar dipped, and anger lashed at him like a storm-tossed sea when he noticed the marks on her neck.
“We were in the middle of a discussion, my lord. Is there something I can help you with?” Mr. Caulfield’s grating tone raked over him and he didn’t give a fuck.
I want answers.
“No.” Not giving a damn if he ruined the man’s day, bastard shouldn’t be sniffing around Fyre anyway. “I need a word with Miss Gwen.”
Her gaze flicked between the both of them and she licked her lips. “Is it something that can wait, my lord? I should be getting home.”
“No.” Again, a one-word answer, but he didn’t trust himself to try to string together more than that. Not as pissed as he was. He swung down and fisted the reins. “I will walk you to the edge of town.” A fleeting glance back to Caulfield. “Caulfield.”
They walked in silence until he was confident that Albie couldn’t hear them. Sure, there were others who watched, but it didn’t matter.
Who the fuck cares?
“What happened?”
“I am sure I do not know what you mean, my lord.”
“Do not push me on this, Fyre. I will carry you to the doctor right now and have them look you over. Who the fuck put the marks on your neck?” It was a good thing the leathers didn’t have feelings because he surely would have wrung them dry or broken them in two had they been stiff.