The Magic of I Do (Faerie 2)

“Will you be here in the morning?” he asked. He looked deeply into her eyes. As though he searched for the truth. If she told him the truth, he’d run screaming from the room. Or do something equally as foolish, like try to marry her.

“If it’s all right with you.”

He nodded. Nothing more. Just a nod. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She nodded in return. He would see her. She would let him shelter her while she figured things out. If that was at all possible.

The door snicked softly behind him as he left the room. Claire heaved a great sigh and looked at herself closely in the looking glass. How the devil had she gotten here to this place, to this time, in this predicament? Why had the door brought her to Phineas Thorne? And what on earth was she going to do now?

Ten

Finn rose with the sun the next morning, tossing the counterpane off quickly as he got to his feet. A tiny voice in his head warned if he didn’t move quickly, Claire would vanish like the wind. Gone before he could get an opportunity to settle anything with her.

He dressed and let Simmons shave him quickly, then stepped out into the corridor. He adjusted his clothing, feeling for certain like a debutante at her first ball. Was his cravat tied tightly? Was the sapphire pin stuck in the center too ostentatious? Were his boots polished to a shine? How did his arse look in these breeches?

Claire would hardly care about what a fine figure he could turn out. She was probably gone, anyway. He heaved a sigh, took the stairs quickly, and went toward the breakfast room. His lungs deflated when he stepped into an empty room. He turned around and ran straight into her.

“Oof,” she grunted, reaching for his shoulders to steady herself.

“Bloody hell,” he grunted, his hands landing on her shoulders as he reached for her. “Are you quite all right?” She blew a lock of hair from her eyes.

“It’s not every day a lady gets hit by a battering ram. But I’m well.”

Claire had a way of stripping Finn down to the bare bones. He wasn’t the younger brother of the infamous Duke of Robinsworth when he was with her. He wasn’t a wealthy man. He wasn’t a consummate lover of women. He was that idiot who’d just run into her. “My apologies,” he managed to say.

“Where were you rushing off to?” she asked, her head tilting a little to the left as her eyes narrowed at him.

I was going to look for you. “To call for more coffee.”

She pointed toward the footman who stood at the ready in the breakfast room. “He couldn’t manage that for you?”

“He’s in charge of the sausages.” The corners of her lips began to tip up. “But I assume he could manage coffee.”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant said, as he bustled from the room.

Claire laid a hand on his chest, and he feared his heart would jump out to greet it. “If you wanted to get me alone, you had only to ask.”

“I’ve had you alone before,” he grunted.

Her brows arched in response, but she chose to ignore his response. “Do you have plans for the day?”

Aside from dogging her every footstep? No. “Yes, I have several appointments. What did you need?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug. She tugged at her clothing, and it was only then that he realized what she was wearing.

“Where the devil did you get that dress?” It was more like a sack than a dress. He reached out and ran the fabric through his fingers. Her skin would be chafed by the end of the day.

“I think it belonged to the housekeeper. Your grandmother didn’t have anything that would fit me.”

That thing she was wearing didn’t fit her either. “You have nothing else to wear?”

“You saw what was in my hands when I arrived.” She snapped her fingers to get his attention. “I have nothing.”

“That is where you are wrong. You just happen to have me.”

***

Claire’s heart tripped a beat. For a minute, an hour, for a day, she might have him. But not longer than that. “I’m not certain what you mean,” she said, hating the hesitancy of her own voice.