Page 58 of Darkest at Dusk
“The village is a place of many voices,” he said. “Some truthful, some false. All loud. You would do well to be careful about what you ask, and whom you ask.”
Her chin lifted, a prickle of defiance straightening her spine. “Are you warning me, Mr. Caradoc?”
“Consider it advice.” The almost-smile visited the corners of his mouth, not so cold now. There was amusement there, yes, but something else as well. Calculation. Wariness. A guarded wall. “Advice I suspect you’ll disregard.”
He was close now, close enough that she could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, the crease between his brows, as if some less than pleasant thought pressed there and would not ease. The scents of citrus and leather folded around her.
Heat rose, traitorous and bright, as memory supplied the taste of lemon on his lips and the slow, deliberate weight of his hands on her arms.
“Will I regret going to the village?” Isabella asked, her heart beating too fast.
He studied her, the silence filled with the thrum of her pulse.
He reached out, so slowly she might have stepped away had she wished, and brushed a loosened strand back from her cheek. His gloved fingertips barely grazed her, yet his touch felt like an ember sparking against her skin. Her world narrowed to that small, shameless trespass and the weight of his gaze.
She ought to protest. She did not.
“You may regret many things before your time here is done, Miss Barrett,” he said, the words low and deliberate. “But I doubt visiting the village will be one of them.”
His thumb hovered near her cheekbone for just a breath longer than was proper, then withdrew, the space between suddenly feeling both too vast and too narrow all at once. His gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there for a single stolen second before lifting once more. Knowledge struck her with bright, dangerous clarity. He wanted her.
Her own want was a tightening low in her belly, an ache that made the cold air feel thin.
This desire between them unraveled something fragile inside her. Her life had been quiet, careful, filled with ink stains and orderly shelves. She was not the sort of woman a man like Rhys Caradoc wanted. But when he looked at her as he did now, she thought the air itself might catch fire.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Matty’s quick, curious glance, the housekeeper’s stillness. Impropriety had witnesses.
Heat stained her cheeks.
Rhys took a step back, the cold wind swirling into the distance he’d made. The lead mare tossed her head; steam drifted from her nostrils.
“Safe travels,” he said, his tone civil and measured. He strode toward the manor, his gait favoring his left leg, his coat flaring behind him. At the foot of the stairs, he paused without turning, the line of his back stiff.
“Miss Barrett,” he said, then paused. “Do return.”
The command hummed in the air as he disappeared inside, the door closing behind him with a click.
Isabella stood on the gravel drive, feeling as though she had been hollowed out and refilled with something restless and alive. Her skin tingled where he had touched her cheek. Her lips felt sensitized, as if his look alone had been a caress.
“Miss Barrett?” Mrs. Abernathy called from near the carriage. “If we’re to reach market early….”
“Yes,” Isabella said, forcing her feet to move.
Tom handed her up, and as the carriage jolted forward, she allowed herself to glance back at the looming façade of the house. The rows of long windows stared back at her, unblinking.
Two words danced through her thoughts, winding tight.
Do return.
Not an invitation. A command she had no wish to disobey.
Rhys listened to the carriage roll away, carrying Isabella with it. Hoofbeats struck the ground, wheels creaked, and the house changed its breathing. Her absence unspooled the hush she carried; the needling susurrus rushed back like a blow.
He stood a moment in the entrance hall with his hand on the newel, riding out the swell.
He thought of her.
The dusting of sugar beneath his thumb. Lemon on his tongue. Her mouth had been soft and willing, and he had forced himself to let her go.
