The Wicked One

by Millard, Nadine

  But Selina would never marry, so who was going to be hurt by this? If she had no expectations, surely her heart would be safe.

  His gaze bored into hers. If she told him to, he’d walk away from her right now, Selina knew.

  Even though the evidence of his need was pressed against her, sending her heart palpitating and her blood burning, he would stop if she told him to.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she said firmly.

  A flame of blue heat flared in his eyes and with a muffled oath, he lowered his mouth to hers again.

  This kiss was different. There was an urgency to it that hadn’t been there before. It was as though Selina’s words had broken down the last wall between them, and now there were no barriers left.

  It felt as though Philip’s hands were everywhere at once, leaving a trail of scorching fire everywhere he touched.

  His tongue explored her mouth, wringing gasping moans from her throat.

  He wrenched his lips from hers but before she could mourn the loss, they moved and found her neck, nibbling and kissing and driving her wild. She plunged her hands into his hair, pulling him closer, clinging onto him as she was tossed into a maelstrom of sensations.

  His hand delved inside the loose opening of her nightgown, causing her entire body to shiver in response.

  “Christ,” he moaned against her throat. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Never.”

  He pulled back suddenly, raking a hand through his already mussed hair.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he rasped. “This isn’t good for you, Selina. None of this.”

  She reached up and pressed her fingers against his lips.

  “There are things we must discuss,” she whispered. “Things that will have to be resolved. But not now. Not tonight.”

  She removed her hand from his mouth and stepped back.

  Then, taking a deep breath, she reached down and removed her night rail, standing before him more vulnerable than she’d ever been in her life.

  He stared at her for an age, then reached out and lifted her from her feet, pressing his lips to hers once more, and sealing both their fates.

  Chapter Fourteen

  T

  he day dawned blustery and cool. It seemed as though the world was changing colour before Philip’s eyes.

  Greens turning to gold. Leaves falling. The world was changing, shifting, becoming something entirely different, just as it should.

  What a shame it was that he didn’t feel able to do the same thing.

  He turned from the window, allowing his eyes to greedily take in the image of Selina fast asleep, her hair exotically dark against the pale blue satin of the pillow.

  Though the covers only exposed one naked shoulder, Philip felt his body stir at the sight.

  He’d spent hours making love to her until she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. He envied her the repose. The temporary escape from their reality.

  He hadn’t been able to even doze.

  No, he’d lain there just watching her until the first rays of pale, weak sunlight splintered the darkness.

  But even removing himself from her bed didn’t dampen the desire.

  And now that he knew the passion that lurked beneath her tranquil surface, now he knew just how powerful the storm of desire between them both was, it would be even harder to do what he had to do.

  Philip raked a hand through his hair, tormented by his own selfish weakness.

  He and Timmy would have to leave this place. Before Timmy was able to be made free of his horror.

  They’d have to return to England because Philip had put his own selfish wants ahead of his son, and ahead of what was best for Selina.

  She gave herself freely, and he would forever cherish what a gift that was.

  But he wouldn’t, couldn’t continue down this path. Using her body but never doing right by her.

  Treating her like some lightskirt when she had become more precious to him than almost anything else in the world.

  What if he were to plant a babe in her womb, as her father had done to her mother? Would he run like a coward? Deny his child’s existence? Pretend that their encounters had never happened?

  The very thought repulsed him.

  And yet, what was the alternative?

  What ridicule would Timothy suffer if his father returned to England with a gypsy bride? What doors would be slammed shut to the son because the father couldn’t control himself?

  Worse still, what sort of life would Selina have as a Society wife? Her freedom stripped away, judged and given the cut direct everywhere she went?

  Timothy would grow to be a man. The scandal would perhaps be forgotten by his adulthood. A man with money and a title could withstand all manner of things.

  But an already miserable boy? And a woman who’d never be welcome to that life? Would they withstand it?

  If he couldn’t protect Charlotte, who’d been born to that life – if he couldn’t keep her safe and happy – how on earth could he do so for Selina?

  And though it was wicked to even think it, the way he felt about Selina – well, it was different. Powerful. Hurting her wasn’t something he’d survive.

  And besides all of that, he couldn’t allow Selina to put herself at risk again by trying to break Timothy free of Charlotte’s hold.

  The memory of her losing consciousness, lying so still and so pale for so long, still put the fear of God into him.

  The idea of her doing so again was more than he could stand.

  He’d meant to return home for by Michelmas, in any case. That had always been the plan.

  Much as he’d come to think of Everwood as home, and much as he was sure Timmy felt the same way, it wasn’t home.

  Philip had responsibilities and duties.

  Timothy had to learn the responsibilities of the earldom that would one day be his.

  This had always been but a moment out of time. A chance for the boy to heal.

  That hadn’t happened. At least not fully. But how much more damage was Philip going to do if he remained here?

  No, the only kindness he could do now would be to remove himself from Selina’s life forever and let her forget him.

  As he watched, agonising between what he wanted to do and what he needed to do, Selina stirred.

  She blinked as she slowly came awake then raised her arms over her head, stretching like a cat, making his throat dry and his heart slam.

  Damn but she was beautiful.

  And now that he knew what it was to taste her, to touch her, he’d never be able to forget her. Not if he lived to be one hundred.

  Her eyes scanned the room and caught his own as he stood by the window watching her.

  She smiled, and Philip had to clench his fists to keep from rushing over and pulling her into his arms once more.

  “I need to get back to my chambers,” he said, hating how stiff he sounded but unable to do anything about it. “Before the servants stir.”

  She gazed at him shrewdly, as if she could see through the pleasant veneer and right into his conflicted soul.

  “Of course,” she finally answered, her tone calm and even. “I want to check on Timmy, in any case.”

  Her words twisted Philip’s heart.

  Timmy had grown so attached to her, and she truly cared for his son. Loved him, even. That sort of love had always been tragically missing from the poor lad’s life. Now, it was going to be ripped away because Philip hadn’t been able to control his desires.

  He swallowed hard, knowing and hating what he had to do.

  “I am grateful to you, Selina. For everything you’ve done for Timothy. And – for me.”

  She frowned, and he didn’t blame her.

  But he ploughed on nonetheless.

  “Last night was –“ He wanted to remain coolly aloof but looking at her sitting there, hair tumbling around her shoulders, eyes wide and impossibly dark, he felt
the façade cracking.

  Heaving a sigh, he decided to be honest about this, at least.

  “Last night was the best of my entire life,” he said simply, truthfully.

  But when her gaze softened, his heart hardened. Because it had to.

  “And I’ll never forget it and the gift you gave to me. However, Timothy and I must return to England. We’ll be gone by week’s end.”

  His words seemed to freeze the very air around them, and Philip stiffened, awaiting some sort of outburst.

  He thought back to when he would have to leave Charlotte while attending to business either in Town or at one of his estates.

  She would wail and scream and beg him not to leave her. Even a house full of staff and a full-time companion had not been sufficient to appease her.

  But Selina – she didn’t move. Didn’t react. She was stoic and regal as a queen and for some reason, that made Philip feel worse.

  Finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, she spoke.

  “Why?” she asked simply.

  No tears, no tantrums, no begging.

  Just a simple request for honesty.

  And Philip didn’t know if he was brave enough to give her honesty.

  Could he tell her that he was terrified by how strongly he felt about her? That he knew now that he loved her, quite desperately? That the idea of him making her ill just as he’d done with Charlotte, of seeing her deteriorate until she was nothing but the shell of a person, until she was driven to take her own life, was enough to make him sick.

  He’d been crushed by guilt and sorrow when Charlotte had left this world.

  But the risk of Selina doing the same thing was more than he could even contemplate. It was a horror that he absolutely wouldn’t live through. He wouldn’t do that to her, to himself, or to Timothy, who needed him.

  Yet, she was entitled to answers and so, she would have them. Just not all of them.

  “Because us being here, you doing this – it’s hurting you. It’s dangerous.”

  Even before he’d finished she’d jumped from the bed, pulling the sheet around her to cover her nakedness. A good thing, too, or he’d undo all the good he was trying to do.

  “I already told you, I can do this, Philip,” she said, her teeth clenched, her eyes flashing fire.

  How was it that he was still distracted by her beauty, even now?

  “And I told you, I don’t want you in danger.”

  She was breathing heavily, her shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath, and he knew before she spoke again that he was in trouble.

  “You are the most stubborn, pig-headed man,” she snapped. “And you’re a liar, too. This isn’t just because you’re worried about me fainting.”

  She stomped over to him until they were mere inches apart. But this time, instead of her eyes being soft with desire, they were hard with barely supressed fury.

  And his body still craved hers.

  “What is it really?” she yelled, her composure cracking, making his crack right along with it. “Do you regret last night? Do you wish we hadn’t –“

  “No!” he interrupted her at once. He couldn’t stand for her to think he had any regrets about their evening together. His only regret was that it couldn’t last.

  “I’m not good for you, Selina,” he said. “No matter how much I wish –“

  He broke off, shaking his head.

  “I can’t give you a future. Not one that you would be happy with. And I wouldn’t let you tie yourself to me, in any case. If I made you so miserable that –“

  Again, he stumbled to a halt. He couldn’t even say the awful words.

  Spinning away from her accusatory glare, he looked out at the grey morning without seeing any of it.

  “I wouldn’t survive something like that happening again,” he finally whispered. “Not to you.”

  “Philip.”

  He felt her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. This was hard enough without her touching him.

  Turning to face her, he shook his head sadly.

  “What happens if she never lets go of him?” He gave voice to his biggest fear. “What if this is his life? Forever? Because of me. Because I couldn’t help her?”

  Once again, Selina stepped toward him and once again, he stumbled back.

  It was as though his innermost fears had bubbled to the surface and he couldn’t stop them from pouring out of him.

  “What if I’ve condemned them both to this forever? It’s bad enough trying to live with that, Selina, but to keep putting you in the middle of it? I can’t.”

  “You’re not putting me in the middle of it. I’m in the middle of it already.”

  To Philip’s horror, he saw tears spring to her eyes.

  “I care about Timothy. Far too much to just walk away now when I know I can help him find peace. I love him, Philip.”

  He saw it in her eyes, before she even opened her mouth to speak again. And he both wanted to hear it and didn’t. For what good would it do now?

  “And I love you, too.”

  Philip closed his eyes and allowed himself one brief moment of ecstasy before he had to steel himself against every feeling she awoke within him.

  When he opened his eyes again, he didn’t see any disappointment that he didn’t say it back. No censure. No condemnation.

  Just stoic, brave acceptance.

  “It’s not just her not letting go, Philip.” She spoke softly, yet every word clamoured in his head. “Last night when you came into the room, Charlotte’s pain intensified beyond anything I’ve ever felt. That’s what made me ill. That’s why I couldn’t hold on.”

  He wanted to shout at her to stop, to keep her words to herself. Didn’t he already know the pain he’d caused? Didn’t he already fear that all of this was his fault?

  “Your misplaced guilt, your pain, your inability to forgive yourself and heal is trapping her. It’s keeping her connected. It’s holding her prisoner.”

  Philip felt as though ice had been poured into his veins. No, what she was saying couldn’t be true, could it?

  Was it not that she was punishing him? How was it that his guilt was forcing her to stay? Was his grief preventing her from finally being free of the pain that had driven her to her death?

  “If it’s me then why is Timothy the one being tormented by her? If I’m doing this, why isn’t she torturing me?”

  His tone was accusatory. He could hear it himself. But the truth of her words, the hurt he was causing her, his own misery at knowing he had to say goodbye – they were swirling inside him, driving him to the brink.

  “Children have always been more open to these things than adults. They’ve not yet closed themselves off with cynicism and disbelief. And so, he is a gateway in a way that you are not. But she doesn’t mean to torment him, Philip. Or you. It’s not malevolence that’s causing her to remain. It’s regret. And love.”

  “She needs to let go of Timothy, yes. But you – you need to let go of her.”

  He didn’t know what to say in response. He felt as though the very world were shifting on its axis.

  So, coward that he was, he just brushed past her and walked out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “B

  ut I don’t want to go back to England. I like it here. I want to stay with you and Agnes.”

  Selina worked harder than ever before to keep the smile on her face.

  She wanted those things, too. Yet, hadn’t she known they were impossible?

  Even before her confrontation with Philip the other morning, she’d known they had no future together.

  He’d avoided her in the days since their confrontation, appearing only at mealtimes, not joining her and Timmy during the day as he used to. And fool that she was, she missed him.

  Timmy at least had had relatively peaceful nights. Selina had taken to sleeping on a cot in his room and even though she felt
Charlotte’s presence lurking, there had been no opportunity to communicate.

  Something was different, shifting, changing in the spirit. Selina could feel Charlotte’s hold loosening, growing weaker. Yet, she didn’t know why.

  It should be cause for celebration, of course. It gave her hope that even if Philip could never forgive and forget the past, Timmy might at least be free. Charlotte might somehow find the peace to move on.

  But seeing the sorrow in the face of a little boy who’d already lived too much of it was hurting Selina’s heart so much that she was finding it nearly impossible to maintain her façade.

  “I’ll miss you, Timmy, but your place is in England with your Papa. You have so much to learn about being an earl. And you’ll have school in a few years. You’ve lessons to get back to, and Christmas with your family to look forward to.”

  Her voice was brittle to her own ears, and she wasn’t fooling anyone. Not Agnes, who sat with a face like thunder on the other side of the table. Not Cook, who was suspiciously red-eyed and sniffly as she placed a plate of bread and cheese on the table between them. And not herself, whose heart tripped over every traitorous word.

  She wanted him to stay. She wanted them both here with her, free of the ghost of poor Charlotte. Free to love and be loved.

  Yet, it was impossible for so many reasons.

  If her mother’s tale had taught Selina anything, it was that gypsy girls didn’t belong with English lords.

  She couldn’t even get the servants in this house to be nice to her, for heaven’s sake! She couldn’t even begin to imagine what a disaster it would be trying to fit into his life.

  “I’m afraid of the nightmares when you’re not here, Miss Selina.”

  Selina looked up and caught Agnes’s look of sympathy at Timmy’s innocent words. There was no censure in the old lady’s eyes, just pity. But Selina didn’t deserve it. She should have listened to the woman who had seen her mother suffer this.

  She had to swallow a lump in her throat before she could even attempt to speak.

  “I am going to give your Papa lots of my herbs and medicines to help you,” she said ,with only a slight tremble to her voice. “Now, why don’t you eat up what Cook has made for you and later, we’ll walk down to the rocks on the beach?”