There was something very wrong with Raphael, Sylvie finally allowed herself to think that thought after nearly a week of rationalizing his sudden shift in demeanor in her head. Her playful, smug lover had turned into a cold, distant man who barely spared her a glance.

When they had arrived in London, he had gone to meet his superior only to learn that his enemy had escaped holding. He'd come back, ordering them to pack because he was taking them to Carlisle with barely any explanation. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, and barely talking to her. He wasn't even joining her in bed! He preferred to ride out in the cold instead of joining them in the carriage.

It seemed as though he was completely shutting her out.

At first, she thought he had become afraid of the fact that he might have to marry her, but she had informed him of her courses and he had just turned ashen and gotten even colder than before. If it was not that then, perhaps he was thrown by this new complication in his investigation. But he'd never let his investigation affect his mood to this degree before.

While they had traveled, he came during the night when he thought her asleep, he sometimes placed a kiss on her head, sometimes lay beside her for a few moments, but he never stayed, nor tried to make any amorous touches.

She had asked him several times if something was bothering him but he kept denying it. However, he had claimed to not be in the mood for the third time in a row and Sylvie was beginning to feel very rejected. She had decided to try one last time tonight now that her courses were done and they had safely arrived in Carlisle. She slipped on the scandalous bit of nightwear he had gifted her, unable to look at herself in the mirror, and then shrugged on a robe above it, belting it at her waist. She padded down the hall – they were living in the family suite instead of the guest wing so that the guards only had a small area to secure- and entered his room without knocking. He barely acknowledged her, putting an assortment of weapons into a traveling case.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm leaving for Fort William," he said without looking up. "Is there anything you need?"

"You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?" Sylvie demanded, her voice trembling a little from hurt. His recent coldness was one thing, but now he would remove her from the investigation too?

"And do I need to report all my actions to you?" His reply was so devoid of any emotion that it came across as condescension. "Why is that, Sylvie? Do you have some sort of claim over me?"

"You've kept me aware of everything so far. Thomas was my brother, I have a right to know. I am your friend, your lover. I am concerned for you."

"Ah, about that," he gave her a pitying smile that made dread churn deep in her stomach. "I think it's time we brought our little affair to a close, is it not?"

Oh god. It was happening. It was happening as she knew it would, yet it still hurt so damn much that she felt her throat begin to sting with the urge to cry.

"I-I don't understand."

He had been so sweet, so intense that day when he had gifted her the telescope. He had said he could never get enough of her, hadn't he? Was it so very easy to say those things in a fit passion without truly meaning them?

"Come now, Sylvie," he patted her hand patronizingly. "You're a school teacher from the country. I was going to get bored eventually, I've given you enough of a thrill haven't I?"

"Bored?" She whispered, willing her watering eyes not to overflow. "I see."

"Oh, Sylvie," he murmured, his voice sincerely gentle, his hand coming to cup her face. "This was the plan, wasn't it? We part ways eventually. We both move on, take lovers as we please. It wasn't going to last forever. In fact, they have a post in Italy for me that I intend to take."

"Take lovers," she replied dazedly. "And you're going to Italy."

"Yes," he stepped away, turning back to his packing, dismissing her from his notice.

He really was going to do it. He was going to toss her aside and go on to the next one as one might change an old coat they grew bored of.

Dignity, she reminded herself, she was going to bow out with grace. No pleading, or crying. She would not debase herself like Mrs. Sherman and any others who came before her.

"You truly intend to take other lovers?" She could not help but ask. "You truly do not want me anymore?"

"Sylvie, why are you acting like this?" He shook his head at her as if she were a misbehaving child- but she did not miss the fact that his hands were fisted at his sides, nor the tension in his body. He was acting so damn patronizing it was igniting her temper. "Of course, I am. You should too. Our entanglement should have given you all the confidence you need to find someone for yourself. Really, you should thank me for all I've taught you."

Oh, of all the conceited, self-centered, self-involved statements! And suddenly Sylvie was not hurt, she was blazing angry. How dare he act as if she were so easily replaced? How dare he act so cool and condescending towards her? How dare he act if what they had shared was ordinary and forgettable?

To the devil with dignity.

"Well, I suppose you're right," she sighed, affecting the same undetached coolness as he was. "Michael does live so very close by. And he has always been rather partial to me."

How could he bear it? The thought of another touching her as he had, the thought of her doing the things they had shared with another.

Rafe's nostrils widened, his face flushing, but he said nothing.

"As you know, I always preferred him to you. You were a lovely thrill, Raphael, but now I know what I like," she tossed her unbound hair, knowing how partial he was to it. Let him see what he was missing! "And I do not need you anymore."

A disgusted sound erupted from Rafe's chest, and gone was that calm collected look. His eyes blazed with fury, the tension in his body coiling tighter with every word.

"Now, every time I am on my knees, I suppose we would have you to thank for teaching me how to properly pleasure a man with my tongue and mouth. And when I tell him that I like to be bound and blindfolded, it will be all thanks to you for showing me how enjoyable it can be. Do you suppose he would be open to being a little rough with me? I don't know he seems so gentle. I suppose I could always teach him, as you taught me. Another thing to thank you for."

"Stop it." He snarled.

"I must figure out how to get my hand on those sponges, I really prefer the feel of a cock," she had to force the indecent word out of her mouth, but her rage made it far easier than it would have been in normal circumstances, "inside me. Oh, I can't wait to see how different it will be. What if he's even better endowed than you? Oh, wouldn't that be something?"

"Sylvie!" His hissed warning promised violence but she was beyond caring. He would dare to say that he was bored of her? He had dared to hurt her with the exact worries she had shared with him when they had started their affair? She had told him that she would not be able to please him as well as a woman of experience and now he would throw that in her face? That was...uncharacteristically mean.

So be it, then, he could deal with her being as petty and as mean as she could manage in return.

"Oh and one more thing to thank you for!" She said cheerily, undoing the belt on her robe, and pulling it aside to reveal the lingerie he had gifted her. His eyes went wide with hunger, his throat swallowing, his gaze riveted to the sight of her breasts through the lace. "I am sure Michael will be so very grateful for this gift when I am riding him with all the skills you so generously taught me. Really, Raphael, thank you so very much."

With that parting shot, she turned her back to him and reached for the doorknob. She had not even gripped it fully before his hand clasped like a vice around her arm and hauled her backward. She was spun around and crushed between him and the door.

"Like the devil you will!"

Hot, harsh, angry lips descended upon hers, demanding her surrender but she was in no mood to give it. Her mouth remained tightly sealed even as he tried to coax her into allowing him entry. With a curse he drew back, both of them were heaving with want and anger.

"Unhand me! I do not want you!" She shoved against his chest but he did not budge an inch.

"There will never be another man that can please you the way I can, you will never know pleasure like this with another, least of all with bloody Alder."

"I don't believe that," she snarled back, pushing him with her hands. "I will find someone who will please me just as well, if not better than you and I shan't think of you at all!"

"There will be no one else!" He seized her hands and pinned them above her head. "I will not stand for it."

"Why?" She spat his earlier words right back at him. "Do you have some sort of claim over me?"

"Yes." He hissed. "I am the only man with any claim over you, you are mine. You will always be mine."

"No," she struggled against his hold but he did not ease it. "No! I do not belong to you and I do not understand what sort of push-and-pull game you are playing but I am not interested in it in the least! You say we are finished? Fine! Good riddance! You cannot throw me away one second and then expect me to be grateful for a display of territorial behavior. I am not some plaything that you can put in a box when you get bored and take me out when it suits you."

"You are not a toy! Stop being ridiculous," he had released her wrists, but then twined their fingers, keeping her hands on either side of her head. She glared at him and he returned it with one tempestuous look of his own. His eyes were positively blazing with fury....and an undercurrent of something making itself obvious. "I cannot believe you would find it so fucking easy to be unfaithful to me!"

"Unfaithful?! Unfaithful?!" She cried in outrage, using her leg to deliver a solid kick to his thigh. "I will not stand to be accused of vile behavior this way, do you hear me? I am done with you and whatever insanity has taken hold of you!"

"You!" He barked, his words colored in mockery. "You are the insanity that has taken hold of me! For all that you consider yourself so intelligent, you have yet to understand the most obvious explanation in front of you."

"And what could that possibly be?" She matched his jeering tone. "Do we need to book you room in Bedlam? You just told me you were bored and wanted us to take other lovers- and I am foolish for taking you at your word?"

"Yes, you knew that it was a steaming pile of horse shite. You could have at least done me the courtesy of being mildly upset. Devastated, perhaps, just for my benefit! But no, not a tear shed, not a protest uttered as if I were entirely consequential! A stepping stone to be used so that you could get to your precious Michael!"

"I came here today for you! It is you who wanted- Ohhhhh!" She groaned in frustration at the unrelenting, mulish look in his eye that told her that he was beyond logic. "You've gone mad!

"No," he sneered resentfully. "I am just wholly, entirely, devastatingly, foolishly in love with you. But equate that with madness if you like, sure as the devil feels like it!"

There.

He had said it.

It was out there in the open, and the world hadn't ended, had it? Funny how now that he had said it, it felt as if it was the easiest thing in the world to say.

He was so fucking tired of hiding from it. He was so tired of denying it, trying to fool himself when he had known in the very depths that he would only ever belong to her. His soul had recognized it the night of her birthday and then his mind had accepted it when he had seen her holding the pistol to defend him from his attacker.

"What?!" She gasped, her mouth falling open in shock. 

"You heard me," he said sheepishly, his blood rushing to his cheek and neck.

"Are you-are you absolutely sure?" She asked in bafflement. "I do not think I heard you correctly."

"I love you, Sylvie," his anger finally fled as he let his body sag against hers, reveling in the feeling of his beloved against him. "I have been trying to tell you in every way I could think of. The inscription on your gift, I told you that I want to be with you forever. I basically begged you to marry me, I was inconsolable after your rejection. When I thought you might be with child I was so happy because the thought of creating a family with you made me want a future that I had never even considered, a future in which you would always be mine. I love you so damn much, Sylvie."

"How? When? You?"

"I think a part of me always knew that you were the one who could conquer me, and so I told myself of all the reasons that I could not have you- you were respectable, you were my friend, your brother was my friend. I always wanted you, ever since those damned eclairs. Then we met again and you saw every ugly part of me. The spy, the killer, the man with scars that run deeper than just his flesh, and you never even blinked. God, that night you kissed my wounds, I felt as if I had been absolved of so many years of pain. You never shied away from the darker parts of me. You would step into a gunfight for me. How could I not love you with everything that I am? How could I not belong to you, body and soul after that? God, I love you so much."

"But you just tried to end things with me!"

He released her hands and cradled her stricken face. He lowered his mouth to hers, this time in a much tenderer kiss, one of sheer awe and adoration.

"Because you terrify me," he whispered. "You came in and rearranged my priorities, I would rather make you smile than pursue my own revenge. That's how The Viper got away. I should have been in London, but it was more important for me to see you have a special day."

 "And when we got attacked and I thought I could not save you, it terrified me. It made me feel so vulnerable. I thought I needed to cut you out before you made me weak enough to lose to The Viper. But you are a part of me, I could not cut you out without killing myself. And you are not my weakness, you are the reason I fight. You are my strength. I cannot let you go. I will not let you. Ever."

"Oh, Raphael," she whispered with heartbreaking softness before she started to kiss him again. "Do you truly love me?"

"Could you doubt it?" He said through the lump in his throat. "You are the most lovely, intelligent, funny, beautiful woman of my acquaintance. You are a ray of happiness after what has been years of apathy. I love you, wholly and completely."

"What happens now?" She whispered, as if trying to keep this new found, delicate information for herself. "For us, I mean."

"For now, I have to leave. Time is of the essence, I cannot afford to dally and make love to you as I really wish to." he rested his brow against hers. "But let us figure this out once we can put this situation to rest."

She nodded once and relinquished him.

About an hour or so later, his things had been gathered and his horse readied for the journey north. He was just about to mount his steed when he heard Sylvie's voice call out his name.

"Raphael!"

She ran towards him, her unbound hair billowing behind her, her feet clad in the indoor slippers. She did not even have a coat on! She was just in her robe as if she had left her bedchamber in a hurry. She reached for him, slipping on the snow but not falling. He widened his hands and she slammed into his body, he caught her and held her tight.

"Love, is everything alright? What's the matter?"

"I love you! I love you too, so much, Raphael." She panted, her voice strained as if she might cry. "I didn't say it and I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving without knowing. I love you. You are my dearest friend, you are the one who has taken the best care of me. You are loyal and passionate, a little arrogant but even that is charming somehow and I love every insufferable bit of you."

He stared at her in stunned, uncomprehending silence. Joy and bliss spread through him, unparalleled to any happiness he had ever felt before in his life. He was humbled beyond belief.

"My god," he said reverently. "You love me. You love me."

"Yes. I do. So you had better come home safe to me, do you understand? Because I will not lose the only man that I have ever loved, is that clear? You are the only one for me, Rafe, and losing you will destroy me."

"You won't," he swore, crushing her into one final, searing kiss. A kiss that held the promise of love and a beautiful future. "I will always come back to you. Always. You are the only one for me. I love you."