Page 22 of Her Tempting Traitor
Is it possible to be a good mananda traitor to one’s country?
Gabby swallowed her confusion. Now it was her turn to look away so he wouldn’t see her confusion. “He—Augustus is a bright lad, and will learn to enjoy having you in his life. Now that you are home. To stay.”
With a small snort, Cassian pulled his arm from her touch and stepped back. “Inverlochy Castle isnaehome. Sir Richard and his wife were my late wife’s relatives, and havegiven Gus a place here. But I need to…” He glanced toward the door. “I will build my own home. For me and?—”
Why did her heart clench so traitorously at his obvious pain, his willingness to show it to her? “And Gus?” she finished, when he bit off his words.
At her soft question, Cassian’s gaze slammed back into hers.
But she couldn’t help but prod. “When you leave and make your own place in the world, now that you can no longer work for the Secret Service, will you take Gus with you? Take him away fromhishome and the animals he cares for? Take him away from Sir Richard and Lady Zilphia?”
Cassian’s step away from her might have been a stumble, or it might have been his leg giving out under him. The brief spasm of pain that crossed his face, which he tried to hide, didn’t tell her anything. Her fingers itched to reach for him, tohelp him.
He is a traitor. Try to remember that.
“What happened to your leg?” she prompted, almost desperate now to keep him here talking. Questions about Gus were clearly off-limits. “Lady Zilphia said it happened on your last mission.” Best not to let on that she knew too much. “Where was it, again?”
A mask of careful neutrality slammed over Cassian’s face.
Stiffly, he inclined his head—not quite a bow, more of an acknowledgement. Without a word, Cassian turned on his good foot and moved in slow, measured steps toward the library door.
“Wait!” she called, hurrying after him. “Cassian, I only meant?—”
“Goodbye, Miss Butcombe,” he ground out, as he yanked the door open. “Enjoy your reading.”
Then he was gone, leaving her alone—barring anyone else hiding in the dark corners—once more.
Sighing, Gabby resisted the urge to scrub a hand over her face. Well, shecouldenjoy her reading—Lord knows there had to besomethingabout the elephant she could learn without actually examining it.
Now that she’d completely ruined the opportunity to interrogate Cassian Grey, at least she could be useful when it came to poor Elizabeth and her calf.
With another sigh, Gabby scooped up Barnhardt’s opus and threw herself into the not-quite-as-comfortable-as-she’d-hoped chair, even as her nape prickled.
Bull was counting on her. She could either solve the mystery of Cassian Grey, or the elephant.
Because she was beginning to suspect she couldn’t do both.
CHAPTER 5
Somewhere around four in the morning, Cassian had decided he was focusing too much on the alluring woman who’d found her way into his arms—twicenow. She was intriguing, aye, and he liked her boldness. But even if she did find her way into his arms again—or perhaps even his bed—she wasn’t going to be part of his future.
Not the way Gus was.
No matter what happened to Cassian, he was determined to provide his son with the future he deserved. A home, a place to belong. A place where he’d be safe, even if Cassian was dragged away.
Or executed.
No’ helpful.
After spending a few more hours definitely not thinking of midnight blue eyed lasses and their potentially cleverhands, Cassian had risen, dressed, and stomped downstairs.
Fook, the waiting of the last months weighed heavy on him. Stopping in the middle of the hall, Cassian tugged a hand through his hair. Perhaps he was being pessimistic. Perhaps the Service was done with him, and they didn’tcareabout the deaths of their men—his men. Perhaps they didn’t care about him.
Was it terrible to wish that was the case?
Bad enough he had to write those gut-wrenching letters to Avers’ parents and Simonsen’s wife. Rudinsky had been a widower, like Cassian, with no children, thank fook. Cassian had vowed that once the cottage was built, once Augustus was safe, he would visit his men’s families and give them whatever peace he had to spare.
Let them know their loved ones died as heroes, even if Cassian couldn’t tell them the details.
