by Summer Devon
He took another look at the room. “This doesn’t appear to be a search for anything so much as wanton destruction. I don’t believe he imagines we’ve taken anything from him or that he will return. Two warnings have been given to me now that I should leave.” He nodded at Carne’s copy of Gulliver’s Travels that lay open and facedown on the floor along with the other books. “And you’ve suffered for having me here.”
“You should leave. First thing tomorrow. Pack your vehicle and drive away before something worse happens to you,” Carne said firmly. “I’ll extract payment from whoever’s responsible and make sure you receive it.”
Phillip stopped moving or breathing for a moment, simultaneously touched Carne showed concern for his well-being and wounded the man could so easily send him away. Foolish Phillip had allowed deep feelings to develop for a man who, in the end, would never really return them. He’d told Carne to freely experiment with him, that their sexual dalliance didn’t have to mean anything, but his foolish heart had broken open and bloomed. He was awash with emotions he hadn’t felt in years. He was a stupid, silly, soft-headed, and weak dobeck.
Phillip set down the camera and stood. “We’ll talk more in the morning. For now, let us just lie down in bed, please. Together, if that’s all right.” Our last night together. Doesn’t that bother you, Carne?
“All right, then.” Carne rose, put his hands on his hips, and scanned the scene. “I suppose I can tidy this later.”
He moved to lock the door, something Phillip hadn’t seen him do since he’d arrived, then they walked to the bedroom. After shedding their clothes, they washed the grime of the mine from each other’s bodies before lying down on the sagging mattress. The groove of two bodies who’d shared the bed for years—Carne’s parents—rolled Phillip naturally against his bed partner.
Sleek skin against skin. Something should be done about that, Phillip thought sleepily, but before he could reach out a hand to start something, his consciousness drifted away.
Chapter Twenty-two
Despite the rigors of the previous day, Carne woke before dawn as usual. How could he sleep any longer when his house was a shambles, his enemy at large, and Phillip in danger with every moment he stayed near this cursed town? Carne lay awake, but he didn’t stir—not quite yet. His heart ached—no, his entire body ached at the knowledge this would be the very last time he could rest with his arms wrapped around the professor’s long, lean body.
A fortnight past, he never would have dreamed his heart might be ripped out of his chest at the thought of losing a man from his life. He’d arranged things so he wasn’t truly close to anyone at all, not the villagers he cared for, not even Bea. He’d locked off any deeper feelings and simply did his duty as he saw it. He’d experienced some pleasure with Bea but never come close to losing himself in her. Now, this mad, naïve, frustrating, daydreaming academic had touched him, both physically and someplace deep down inside, perhaps his spirit.
Carne would never be the same man again, and he nearly hated Phillip for awakening him like this. After the professor was gone, Carne would suffer inside. He knew it.
He loosened his grip around Phillip and shifted so he could study the man as he slept. Sandy-blond hair as tousled as a child’s. Had the man never heard of a barber? Ah, but he hardly needed one for his face. Though he’d been two days without a razor, his cheeks and chin had barely raised a crop of stubble. His angular cheekbones and pointed chin were clearly visible. His fair eyelashes scarcely showed against his cheeks. And his mouth…
Carne’s gaze riveted on the wide mouth that had kissed him all over and then stretched around his cock. His erection began to rise at the memory. Perhaps he should rouse the professor for one last experiment together before the man walked out of his life forever. He wanted to, but it seemed wrong now. As much as he craved Phillip’s body wrapped intimately around his—and he did want that, Carne thought as he swept his gaze up and down Phillip’s naked form—he was about to send the professor away. Roughly, if need be. Whatever it took to get him to leave town, for he guessed Phillip would protest and insist on staying.
Carne brushed his fingers through Phillip’s hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his forehead. A mistake, because it awoke Phillip and put an end to Carne’s silent musing, and an end to their final night of sleeping together.
Phillip’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
The man’s hand slipped over his hip and held him. “We’re alive. We didn’t die in the cave-in.”
“No. Not quite.”
Phillip cast a glance toward the window. “And it looks like the start of another beautiful day.”
“Rain’s coming,” Carne informed him. “Can tell by the color of the sky.” He moved out from under Phillip’s warm hand and got out of bed. “If you’re to make it to Truro safely before dusk, you should begin as soon as possible.”
It hurt to turn his back on the man sprawled across his bed, but he’d suffered greater tragedies than that and soldiered on. He rammed one foot, then the other into his drawers and trousers.
“I don’t have to leave. I can help you figure out a way to deal with Gwalather and whoever he’s in league with. Perhaps he has a right to the booty from his private deal. He isn’t bound to share it with the entire community if he doesn’t want to. Perhaps it would be best to suggest he collect his loot and be on his way?”
Carne turned to stare at Phillip, sitting up in bed with hair as wild as if he’d run a beater through it. “And what of your things he’s destroyed? You deserve payment. After I’ve collected it, I’ll send the money to you in London.”
Phillip waved a hand. “Yes. I’m angry about the camera and the car, but they’re just things. Not worth stirring up trouble over. If the Concern can be convinced to let him leave town without demanding a share, then all the trouble should fizzle out. You all can return to business as usual. No real harm done.”
Carne narrowed his eyes. “You makes it sound so simple. ’Tis not. We, all of us, had a pact, and Gwalather and the others broke it. Then Gwalather broke his word to the Mitchells too. I’d be surprised if that young hothead and his father haven’t attacked Gwalather by now and gone back to the mine to get the cache for themselves.”
“Betrayals and double betrayals, all over things.” Phillip half smiled and shook his head.
Carne’s temper stretched thin at his dismissive tone. “Have you ever been hungry a day in your life? Have you ever shivered with cold and couldn’t buy coal? Or wondered how to patch the roof on your house or get a doctor for a sick child? You have no real idea of the value of things. You’ve never been poor and never will be. Around here, we depend on each other for survival. A pact’s been broken, and that means something. Even a portion of the money from those things Gwalather has hidden away could mean the difference between eating and starving for the people of Par Gwynear next winter.”
Phillip dipped his head. “Point taken. A portion, then. Everyone could sit down and discuss fair portions without violence.”
Laughing harshly, Carne jerked a thumb at the other room. “Did you see my house? Your auto? Do you recall Mitchell left us to die in the mine? Do these seem the sorts of men to let go of something they consider theirs without a fight?”
Phillip bit his lower lip and exhaled impatiently. It seemed his temper began to rise too, for he was a bit short when he replied, “What is your suggestion, then? Should the villagers gather pitchforks and clubs, attack the men who broke the code, and seize their goods? Will that resolve anything?”
“How we handle village business is our business, not yours. You need do only one thing. Leave town before someone decides you know too much and refuses to let you go.” He grabbed up his shirt and thrust his arms into the sleeves. “And I don’t mean me, if you were thinking so.”
Phillip leaped out of bed and faced him, utterly nude. “I wasn’t! How could you imagine I would think that
of you after all we’ve…” He pressed his lips together. “I trust you, Carne, and you trust me not to betray your village’s secrets. We work well together—mostly. You should let me help you sort this out.”
Carne forced himself not to look down at Phillip’s cock or even think about how much he’d like to grab hold of the frustrating man and crush him in his arms. He stared into his eyes, erasing every particle of emotion from his voice so Phillip would believe what he said. “I don’t need or want your help. All I want is for you to leave. Since you arrived, everything’s been in turmoil.” Carne kept his tone measured and cool.
He should’ve known Phillip wouldn’t give up so easily. “I’ll keep quiet and out of your way, then, but I’d at least like to remain here until you resolve things. After all, my things were ruined too, so I have a stake in the outcome.”
“More than possessions might be damaged if you remain here.” Lest Phillip believe he worried for his safety, Carne added a sneering jab. “Take your plans and maps and return home where you can daydream of smugglers all you like.”
“You truly want me to leave immediately?” Phillip half smiled as if waiting for the ending line of a joke, some sort of twist to assure him Carne was merely teasing.
This was like scraping off sticky taffy. Carne couldn’t seem to get him to understand how serious he was, a task made more difficult because he honestly didn’t want to see the back of Phillip Singleton.
Tas had always said a sharp knife and one clean hack was better than sawing away with a dull blade. Carne used words he knew would slice them apart.
“If yesterday’s talk of caring makes you linger, forget anything I may have said in the dark. As you told me at the start, what we did together was an experiment—one that’s over now. I won’t carry on with a man. I want to return to my normal life.”
He was rewarded, and felled, by the flash of hurt in Phillip’s eyes. But perhaps only pain would remove him from harm’s way at last.
Carne ignored the ache in his chest and delivered one last cold blow. “Will you go, or do I need to throw you out?”
Phillip walked to the nightstand and picked up his spectacles. He settled them on his nose and hooked them behind his ears. Then he bent to retrieve his clothing. “I’ll leave directly. I beg your pardon for causing you trouble.”
Carne left the room. He had to, or he would have said something to undo all his work. He strode outside and paced around the yard a bit before going to feed his poor horse, which had been neglected all of yesterday. He took his time, curried the animal, and gave him an extra portion of grain before staking him out to graze. He did everything he could think of to keep busy while waiting for Phillip to collect his things.
The cottage door opened and closed. Carne stopped polishing bits of tack and hurried out of the shed in time to see Phillip loading his valise and camera cases into the backseat of his damaged vehicle.
Carne strode toward him, words of apology trembling on his tongue. He wanted to thank Phillip for the time they’d spent together, to at least part as friends, but if he softened his stance now, Phillip would not go. Since he couldn’t speak without giving himself away, Carne said nothing, just watched Phillip prepare the engine and start it.
The professor paused before getting into the vehicle and faced Carne. “I apologize again for stirring up things that would have been better left alone. If we hadn’t gone treasure hunting, Gwalather and perhaps Jacobs would have left the area and no one would have known why. The Mitchells would likely have stopped their endeavors and fallen back in line with the rest of you, and no one the wiser. And you…would have continued on with Mrs. Pollard, perhaps even married her and made a home together. I truly did create nothing but turmoil for you.”
Carne clenched his jaw tight and stared down at his boots. He daren’t begin to speak. He nodded. And then, just as he looked up, ready to at least shake hands, he heard the car door close. Phillip was inside. He was putting the engine into gear. He was driving out of the yard and down the bumpy pathway. He turned onto the dirt road.
He was gone.
Carne put a hand to his mouth and choked back a sob. His knees went abruptly weak and buckled, and he let himself slip down to the ground. He wrapped his arms around his body and sat as still as a boulder. Not crying. Not feeling. Not doing anything at all.
Chapter Twenty-three
Phillip knew Carne was lying. He gripped the steering wheel so hard, his fingers hurt. He tried to shift his bum away from a rip so he wouldn’t sink deep into the horsehair-stuffed middle of the cushion.
As he rounded a bend, the motorcar sputtered and stalled. Phillip got out and kicked a tire, then cursed because his foot hurt. That would teach him to lose his temper with an inanimate object.
“Mr. Professor!” Robin, approaching along the road from the village, hurried toward him. “You curse better’n even than Carne does.”
Phillip tried to force his grimace into a smile. “He’s an expert is he?”
Robin backed up and examined the vehicle. “Oh, that beautiful motorcar. No wonder you’re so angry. But where are you off to?” He pointed. “I can see your box in the back is packed up. It ain’t shut properly.”
“Yes, whoever attacked my motorcar slashed the leather straps.” Phillip pushed his glasses back up and gave Robin the best version of a sunny smile he could manage. He got back into the motorcar, and Robin didn’t back away, even after Phillip finally coaxed the engine into life.
“When will I get my ride?” Robin called out.
Phillip wanted to drive off, jolting as fast as he could over the uneven roads, so he could think about what had happened with Carne and how the man had cut him.
The two people he’d cared deeply about in the past had been uninterested in him, Phillip Singleton. They wanted his money or his cock, or his mouth on their cock. But he knew, deep down, he absolutely knew that Carne cared about him, and he suspected Carne even liked him. It had only been a matter of days, but they’d spent a good many unforgettable hours together. While they were trapped in the cave… God. Perhaps Phillip had admitted too much? No, this second-guessing was useless.
Except that was all Phillip wanted to do: hide and think. He almost snapped at Robin to back away from the motorcar’s door. But as Phillip stared at the smiling boy, he realized that running off to think wouldn’t help. He’d tried to hide from the pain of rejection before, and it hadn’t helped him recover from his wounds any faster. It would be better to embarrass himself and look for answers. And if that didn’t work, he’d march off and spend no time at all on regrets.
“Um. I suppose now would be as good a time as any to claim your ride,” he told Robin, who eagerly clambered over the low door rather than take the time to open it.
The boy settled on the seat with a hum of satisfaction, as if he didn’t notice that much of the stuffing and cover were gone from his perch.
“Now this be something like,” he said and ran his fingers over the polished wood of the dashboard. “What you should do is buy another motorcar and sell this one. You have money, don’t you? Buy some and sell them.”
That almost made him smile. “I’m hardly a salesman.”
“All right. Get me to sell. I would do a bang-up job of selling motorcars ’cause I want one so much, I can feel my bones turn to jelly.”
That was a sensation one should reserve for another person, Phillip almost said, but such a statement might make Robin ask questions. For whom do your bones transform, Mr. Singleton?
“This is awful.” Robin ran his hand over the slashed leather seat. His hair ruffled in the slight breeze. “Can’t she go any faster?”
“Not on these roads.”
“Where were you going before I stopped you?”
“Stopping by the Par Gwynear mine shed where I left my satchel of papers, then leaving the area.”
“Oh bugger.” Robin scowled. “I suppose being trapped in the cave and left to die by Mitchell made you decide to go, b
ut truly, you mustn’t think it’ll happen again. Because we don’t do that. Kill people. At least not often,” he added.
Despite his black mood brought on by what felt to be a terminal heartache, Phillip couldn’t help being amused by Robin.
“You ought to go to the Stoney Ground to say good-bye to all.” Robin examined the dashboard. “Gwalather and Mitchell are out fishing today, or so they said. I spotted ’em heading to Mitchells’ boat and asked to go along, thinking I’d be a spy for the Concern, but they wouldn’t take me. And young Mitchell weren’t with them. His tas said he be sick at home.”
Good thing Robin didn’t go with them, Phillip reflected. The chatty young man would babble until he gave away some secret. Which triggered a question: If the younger Mitchell had told his father about Gwalather’s betrayal, what was Mitchell Sr. doing on a boat with the man today? Did he want to get Gwalather alone to question him about the cache of imports, or did the elder Mitchell have a more sinister motive in going out on the open sea with his one-time partner?
Robin interrupted this train of thought with a sigh. “I do wish Treleaven would get back on the water so I could get steady work.”
“He shall, now that I’m leaving.”
“He’ll be a bear,” Robin said thoughtfully. “A cross, unpleasant bear.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s enjoyed your visit. He hasn’t said so, but a fellow can’t spend hours on board with a man and not learn his nature. He’s lighter with you around, even though strangers are a nuisance. Mrs. Pollard said as much about him and she knows about people better’n anyone else.”
“Oh? What did Mrs. Pollard say about Mr. Treleaven?” Phillip tried to keep his tone casual. Carne would hate it if people gossiped about him behind his back. Though Phillip supposed gossip was a fact of life in a small village.
“She said he’s a difficult man to know. Ha, that’s not news to me. And, um, she said that few people do gain his affection and you’re one of them. She thought she was too, but she was wrong.”