The Defiant Wife (The Three Mrs #2) - Jess Michaels Page 0,8

stop in a few hours,” Rhys explained as the carriage slowed and pulled to the side. “And we will arrive in Bath before supper tomorrow.”

She forced a smile. “That is fine. Thank you again for the transport and the company.”

He bowed his head as the carriage stopped, and then ducked out, his deep voice fading as he spoke to the driver and made his arrangements. She reached into her reticule for a book, which she set on the seat across from her.

She needed to gather her senses and focus instead of mooning in an unseemly fashion over a man she could not have for a dozen good reasons. She had to. There was just nothing else to be done about it.

Chapter 3

Rhys sat at a table in the dining hall of the inn where their group had stopped an hour before. He tapped his thumb restlessly on the wooden tabletop, rapping out a rhythmless beat as his mind spun in what felt like never ending circles. He didn’t like feeling so untethered, so helpless. It wasn’t in his nature—it never had been.

And yet he had no choice. The world was burning around him, set ablaze by a man he had spent a lifetime both loving and hating. Rhys was left to fight the fires alone, and the thoughts of that had plagued him the entire long day of riding ahead of the carriage.

Thoughts of something else, too. Someone else. The woman who had just entered the dining hall and was searching the crowd for him. He stood so she would see him better and sucked in a breath. Phillipa.

It was shocking how beautiful she was. Every man in the room made mark of it. He saw the eyes follow her, admiring the curves of her figure, the slope of her delicate neck, the bright, barely tamed glory of her golden hair and her lively green eyes.

But they didn’t know her at all. They didn’t know how far that beauty sank beneath the smooth surface of her skin. That she was just as alluring when she spoke or acted as she was to look at.

Wanting her was so very unfair. Knowing he could never have her was physically painful.

She smiled as she reached him, and he held out her chair for her. When she had settled into place, he said, “I hope you found your accommodations pleasant.”

She nodded. “It’s a beautiful room and a lovely inn. Much better than the accommodations I secured for myself on the way to London what feels like a lifetime ago.”

He flinched because her words had made him picture her desperation, her fear, her suspicions when she chased his wayward brother to London. When the world was turned upside down by everything Erasmus had done and said and stolen.

“I wish I could have spared you that pain, Phillipa,” he said softly.

She reached across the table and touched his hand. It was the briefest and lightest of touches, but he felt the warmth of her glide up his arm, through his blood, sliding into every part of him.

“Once again, it wasn’t your fault.” She shook her head as she rested her hand back in her lap and clenched it. “I don’t know how to convince you otherwise when you are so eager to accept the blame.”

He let out a long breath. “I suppose it is old habit. Trying to…prove my worth by never failing.”

They were briefly interrupted by the serving woman, who explained the offerings from the kitchen. When they had made their selections and he had chosen a bottle of wine, the servant left. Phillipa met his gaze.

“Would you tell me a little about it?” she asked.

He grabbed for the bottle the girl had left on the table and opened it before he answered. “About my family? My life?”

She nodded. “You know a great deal about me. I’m sure you had many reports from Owen. Thorough ones.”

“Not as thorough as you might think,” he muttered, because he had pored over those very reports after he met her and always longed for more information about her, more personal connection he could cling to. “But I understand your meaning. The fact is that you are the victim of a very long story that culminated in my brother’s death. And you deserve to know why, I think. Deserve to see a layer peeled back after so many of your own have been exposed.”

She pursed her lips as if to disagree with that statement, but her curiosity must have gotten