Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

Stay or Go

He was silent, just watching her, and she cleared her throat.

"You see. Mr. Holyoake, I don't know anyone here, neither in this village, nor in– the city," she said.

"You're from the West," he said.

She nodded.

"But you see, I can't go back. Nate told me I'd fail, and if I come back now without fulfilling my contract, it'll just prove to him what a failure I am," she said and folded her hands in front of her chest beggingly. "Please, I can't go back."

"Nate's your husband," he said darkly.

He doesn't ask, does he? Fiona thought. It's always a statement with him.

He pointed at her hands with his eyes - ah, the ring! - and she nodded again.

"And I've never had such an opportunity for my art before. I've been selling my paintings in a couple of shops and galleries, but– but it's the Holyoake Publishing we're talking about!" she continued. He wasn't interrupting. Nate would've cut her off by now. "And your brother promised me a five book contract if everything goes well. I get to paint illustrations for five books! Can you imagine how amazing it is?!"

He frowned and swallowed, she saw his throat bob.

"And no one ever believed in me like your brother!" she exclaimed. "There are thousands of talented undiscovered artists, probably in this county alone, and he chose me! He offered me the contract!"

"Why?"

It's like he drops a rock when he speaks. Boom. Not in a well, like she used to as a child, but on damp ground.

"He said his wife saw my drawings on her book tour and wanted a children's book with them," Fiona answered. "For their children."

"Ah, trust Clem to find another charity case," he grumbled.

"I'm not a charity case!" Fiona exclaimed. He's not trying to be pleasant, is he? "I'm just–"

"What?" he asked, and his lips twisted in some sort of a bitter smirk.

"Lucky," she said firmly. "That's what I am. Like I said, there are thousands of artists like me. I'm lucky she saw my drawing. I'm lucky he indulges her. I'm not going to refuse just because it might seem like charity to some." She exhaled noisily. "Hundreds of children will read books with my illustrations because he spoils his wife. I'll just say it's my Nana watching over me, and that it's my lucky day - and I'm not going to let anything stand in my way."

Including you, she thought, but of course didn't say it.

"Why can't you just work from home?" he asked.

Why is this suddenly turning into an interrogation? Fiona stubbornly pressed her lips, but clearly, what worked on others - her infamous stroppiness - didn't work on him. He continued calmly watching her. Something about his eyes - blue and cold - was bothering her, and she looked aside cowardly.

Apparently, tense silence didn't work on him either.

"So, what are we going to do about our... situation?" she asked after a few seconds.

"There's only one bedroom in this cottage," he said. "Do you want to share the bed?"

Fiona whipped her head and gawked at him. Oh, he's taking the mickey. He is, isn't he? One can't tell with this stone face of his.

"I'd rather not," she answered gingerly, watching him intently.

His lips twitched. Yeah, you aren't getting anything else from this Jerpoint Weeper, Fiona. She studied him discreetly, while he was looking her over openly. She was used to people staring, to think of it. He, on the other hand, reminded her of how they portrayed vampires in telly shows. She somehow clearly imagined him blending into the shadows and going unnoticed when he wanted to.