Page 32 of Stolen By the Cruel Duke
“Then don’t say anything,” he said, before he leaned forward and kissed her.
Iris’s lips were soft and warm, and the moment he kissed her, Phineas felt as if an electric current had shot through him. He wasn’t sure what exactly had made him kiss her, except that he didn’t know how else to express the feelings that were welling up inside him. All he knew was that he couldn’t go a moment longer without kissing the woman who had changed his life so much.
And what a kiss it was. It was soft and sweet, unlike any kiss he’d had before. For a moment, Iris seemed to freeze beneath him, and he felt a thrill of fear run down his spine. But then she kissed him back. The moment she did, happiness flooded him. This waswhat he was meant to do—to shower this woman with affection and love. This was his purpose.
Then he stopped thinking entirely, and for a long moment, neither of them pulled away, lost in the kiss and the moment and one another.
At last, Phineas pulled away. He didn’t want to push her too far or rush her into anything. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. As much as a part of him desired for them to live together as man and wife, the prospect was still daunting, especially in light of the feelings that were currently raging through him. If he told her how he felt—if he truly put himself out there—she could reject him. And he wasn’t sure he could handle the disappointment.
“What was that for?” Iris whispered.
She was gazing up at him with a starry-eyed expression. Her cheeks and neck were red, and it pleased him to see how the kiss had affected her.
“For changing my life,” he said. “And that’s all I’ll do for now. I just wanted you to know how deeply you have changed me. Goodnight, Iris.”
“Goodnight, Phineas.”
But after he’d extinguished the candle—after Iris’s breathing had become shallow and he knew she was fast asleep—Phineas layawake, wondering what he was waiting for. He was married to the most brilliant, beautiful, and compassionate woman he had ever known. They were partners. They were friends. So why was he hesitating? Why was he holding himself back? Was it only fear?
And by the time he was drifting off to sleep, he’d determined that when morning came, he would tell Iris how he felt. He wouldn’t let fear hold him back.
I’ll tell her she has brought love into my life.I’ll tell her I love her.
The next morning, however, Phineas never got the chance. He woke up to someone shaking him. Startled out of sleep, he pushed them away, then sat bolt upright. For a moment, he looked around in confusion, then he realized that it was Iris who had been shaking him, and he relaxed slightly.
When he saw the expression on her face, however, his worry came rushing back.
“What is it?” he asked at once.
“It’s my father,” she whispered. “He found us.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I want to speak to Eavestone now! If you keep me from him, I’ll make sure you are out of business by year’s end!”
The roar came from downstairs, and Phineas could hear it, followed by more yelling, as he pulled his clothes on as quickly as he could. There was no time to ring for his valet. Lord Carfield was here, in South Wales. He’d discovered what they were up to at the mines—or he suspected what they were up to.
But how?Phineas silently wondered as he hastily tied his cravat.Who could have told him?
Even if the foreman had suspected something, it would have taken another day for a letter to reach London and another day for Lord Carfield to arrive in Wales. The Viscount had arrived just a day and a half after them, which meant he must have discovered that they’d gone to Wales half a day after they’d left.
But who could have told him?
Was it possible that Iris had told her sisters, before they left Eavestone House, that they were going to the mines? Had she foolishly let something slip? Or—it was unthinkable—was it possible that she was still helping her father spy on Phineas?
The thought left him cold, and he tried to put it out of his mind as he threw on his jacket.
At last, Phineas was dressed, and he wrenched open the door and hurried down the stairs with as much dignity as possible, Iris following in his wake. He could feel her fear, could sense it like she was a deer and he a wolf, and it sparked every instinct in him to protect her.
Downstairs, a livid, red-faced Lord Carfield greeted them. The innkeeper was hovering nearby, looking worried and deferential, and Phineas immediately tried to put him at ease.
“Everything will be all right,” he reassured him. “Lord Carfield and I simply have business matters to discuss. Can you show us to your parlor?”
The innkeeper nodded and wordlessly escorted them to a small parlor off the main hall. Phineas was careful to keep himself between Lord Carfield and Iris the whole time. Once the innkeeper had ushered them inside, he retreated as quickly as possible, leaving the three of them alone.
Phineas turned to face Lord Carfield. The man looked older and more unkempt than he had at the wedding. Living without his eldest daughter—whom he seemed to have treated simultaneously like a wife and a servant—had obviously not done good things to him. His hair was grayer, his face more lined, and his clothes disheveled.
Lord Carfield’s face was still red with fury, but when he spoke, it was with a measured calm.
