Philip had finally climbed out of bed to work in his darkroom—a closet he’d converted so that he had the ability to develop his photographs whenever it suited him.
Not long after he’d begun to coat the negatives with a varnish to protect their surface, he’d heard the door to his chambers creak open. With the hour having been so late, he’d been wary and had peeked out through a slit to see a man creep inside, his face masked and a dagger in hand.
It had only taken Philip a second to know what was happening—that Gustaf was carrying through on his veiled threat. Thankfully, he’d locked his darkroom door, as he often did to prevent anyone from accidentally opening it and exposing his photographs too soon.
The masked man had waited for a short while in the shadows of his bedchamber, likely intending to stab him when he exited the closet. But Philip had clattered around and whistled and acted as though he had no knowledge a murderer was lurking so close. Finally, near dawn, with the coming of light and the awakening of the servants, the assassin had left.
Philip had wasted no time in sneaking from the royal palace. He’d arranged a secret meeting with the prime minister and others of parliament who wanted to overthrow Gustaf. They’d debated for hours how to proceed. During their deliberations, they’d received news that Gustaf had learned of Philip’s whereabouts and was sending a contingency of royal armed guards to arrest him on charges of treason.
Philip hadn’t had any choice but to flee. And he’d been doing so ever since. He didn’t know exactly how people were keeping tabs on him. There were times he suspected that the prime minister or another member of parliament had sent a bodyguard to watch him from a distance. Other times, he suspected the assassin was the one watching him and waiting to waylay him.
Whatever the case, he couldn’t be too careful, especially now that he was with Felicity one more night.
He stepped onto the porch and shuddered. The temperatures had dropped drastically from earlier in the day. And from what he could tell in the light emanating onto the front yard, several inches or more of snow had fallen, covering the ice.
He made his way carefully through the dusting of snow and ice on the porch and retrieved the pail. As he turned and started back to the door, he blew out a frustrated breath at the sight of Felicity standing in the open doorway, the interior light spilling over her and revealing her in all her glorious beauty.
If an assassin was lurking in the yard somewhere with a rifle, she’d make an easy target.
“Go back in.” He glowered at her as he started toward the door.
She retreated, but not before glowering back.
As he stepped inside and bolted the door behind him, he set the pail by the door, then crossed his arms. “Do you ever listen to anyone?”
“I listen to sane people instead of crazy ones who are acting as though our homestead is being attacked by a pack of hungry wolves instead of a tiny pail.” She nodded at the bucket, the snow and ice melting from it and forming a puddle on the floor.
His sense of humor was gone. The moment was too grave for him to resort to his usual teasing. If only he could tell her the truth. Then she’d know why he was worried about being there. She’d know why he had to leave tomorrow.
He was like a bomb waiting to explode. And when he did, he’d hurt anyone close to him.
He rubbed his hand down his scruffy jaw and tried to expel the tension that had turned his body as rigid as ice. It didn’t work. He wouldn’t rest until he had the chance to go out and make sure no one was there.
He crossed the room and headed into the kitchen, where his coat and gloves and boots had been drying by the stove.
Her footsteps rushed after him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m heading out to the barn to feed the livestock.” He swiped up his coat and began to stuff his arms in the sleeves, even though they were still slightly damp. “And I’ll make sure everything looks okay for the night.”
She reached for her coat on the peg beside the door. “I’ll go with you.”
His hand darted out and caught hers. This time, he met her gaze and hoped he could convey his seriousness. “Let me do this tonight for you.”
She stilled and glanced at his fingers encircling hers.
“Please.” He spoke the word softly. At the same time, he brushed his index finger across the back of her hand. It was a gentle but intimate caress, one he knew he had no right to.
She studied his hold a moment longer before looking up at him, her eyes filled with all kinds of emotions he wanted to explore, except that he didn’t have the time. Even if he’d had time, he knew no good could come of rousing feelings between them.
But obviously his touch, even a brief one, seemed to have some effect upon her. He wasn’t above utilizing it to protect her whenever necessary. Like now.
He brushed his finger down one of her fingers, then up the next, and down another, tracing them.
She inhaled softly.
He finished tracing the final two fingers before linking his pinky with hers. He wasn’t playing fair, but he didn’t care. “Stay here with the Kellers, and I’ll be back inside soon.”
The brown of her eyes had turned darker than a moonless night, inviting him to lose himself there.
Oh yes, he wanted to lose himself with Felicity Courtney, both day and night, with or without the sun or moon. But he swallowed hard, pushing the desire down. “Promise me?”
“Fine.” The word was short, as though she could barely get it out.
He pulled his hand away from hers and finished bundling up.
She watched him as though she was imagining his touch all over again. And as he tugged on his boots and hat and gloves, he could feel her eyes on him as if they were her hands. When he exited with a lantern in hand, he didn’t dodge the blowing snow that slapped at him. Instead, he lifted his face into the wind and took the punishment for grazing her fingers so intimately.
Already the attraction between him and Felicity was strong. And he couldn’t add to it and make her harder to resist. He had to remain a gentleman and keep proper boundaries at all times. No more gentle grazing of her hand, even in an emergency.
The lantern light sputtered in the wind and went out almost immediately, and darkness closed in all around. The ground was still slick with ice underneath the layer of snow. The wind slithered beneath his coat and sent chills over his skin, froze his cheeks and nose and prickled his fingers—reminding him of how close he’d come to freezing earlier in the day.
After trudging forward against the blowing wind for what felt like much too long, a nagging fear crept in. Had he overshot the barn? Was he wandering the wrong direction altogether?
He darted a look over his shoulder and glimpsed the faint light emanating from the house. Then he forced himself to keep going. Next time, he’d bring a rope with him and attach it to the house and barn so that, after he left, Felicity would have a way to guide herself during any more storms. He’d heard tales of how much snow fell at times in the high country. And he didn’t want her getting lost in the dark and wandering around, unable to return to the house.
Finally he bumped into a post, which he guessed was part of the goat pen. He used the fence to guide himself to the barn door, and then once inside, he relit the lantern.
The cats and goats and chickens and even the lone gelding greeted him, obviously relieved to see him. He gave them all plenty of feed. The water troughs were full, and even though it was cold outside, the barn had retained some warmth from all the creatures huddled inside.