Page 5 of Her Tempting Traitor
“Oh, we would not have it any other way.” Lady Zilphia was twisting her serviette between her hands, looking worried. “Truly we would not. Right, my love?”
Sir Richard, who had speared a piece of meat on his fork and was now holding it upright by his ear, started. “What? Oh yes, quite right, quite right. We love the little rascal, don’t we, eh, Jessica?”
The capuchin monkey on his shoulder snatched the piece of beef from the fork, took a bite, made a face, and tossed it over her shoulder.
Sir Richard forced a chuckle. “Itwasa bit overdone, you’re right. I’ll have a talk with the cook.”
“The beef is fine, sweet pea,” Lady Zilphia scolded. “Young Jessica is just picky—besides, you know she prefers grapes.”
“Grapes!” the rotund knight agreed, reaching for the centerpiece, which did in fact contain grapes. “You’d like some grapes, Jessica? Does ‘oo want some nice grapey grapes?”
Cassian stifled his sigh as his hostess switched her worried gaze to the damned monkey, then happily clapped when the capuchin gobbled up the fruit.
“There, what a good girl.” Beaming, she turned back to Cassian as her husband continued to dismantle the centerpiece to feed the monkey currently shitting down his back. “What were we talking about? Oh, yes, Augustus. He will come around, Cassian, he is just angry.”
“Aye,” Cassian growled, then forced himself to relax. “So am I.” Beneath the tablecloth, his missing foot throbbed, which should be impossible. Damnit. “And I owe ye both so much?—”
“Nonsense!” The small woman flicked the serviette dismissively. “We have been delighted to have Augustus in our lives since dear Artemesia’s loss. It has taken him some time to overcome that pain, and after seeing you so infrequently over the years…well. It has been a difficult transition to have you back in his life.”
Because ye havenae spent much time in his life otherwise.
The words were unsaid, but didn’tneedto be said.
Cassian resisted the urge to scrub his hand over his face again, and instead lifted his fork to poke at his potatoes, pretending hunger.
How often, in the last twelve years, had he considered quitting Her Majesty’s Secret Service? Returning to the small house he’d rented for Artemesia after their marriage? Helping her raise their son to be strong and wise and caring? Being the family he had promised her they would be.
Then came the fever that took her, while he was undercover in Russia. By the time he returned, his son was being raised hundreds of miles away by Artemesia’s uncle and aunt.
Granted, Inverlochy Castle was a far better place for Augustus to grow up than lonely, rented property…but perhaps Cassian shouldn’t have ignored his responsibilities for so long.
Perhaps?
He didn’t snort, but only because snorting into one’s potatoes was as bad as splattering them across the tablecloth.
It was only logical that Cassian should want to build a future for—withhis son, was it not?Of coursehe should focus on the land he would buy and the manor house he would build with the pension he would surely receive from his years in service. Those were the plans taking up his attention—but they were for both of them.
It didn’t have to be in America, it could be someplace nearby. But it madesensefor Cassian to work toward that goal, the goal of taking his son someplace where he could raise the lad on his own…
…didn’t it?
“You’re right, angel!” Sir Richard suddenly exclaimed, as the monkey snatched more food from him and chattered loudly. “Grapes were just the thing. Look at her, she’s gobbling them right up. Such a good girl, aren’t you, yes you are!”
“Oh, sweet pea, of course she prefers grapes,” Lady Zilphia frumped good-naturedly. “Goodness gracious, perhaps it was for the best the Lord never blessed us with children—you would likely forget to feed them all together.” She blew a kiss to let her husband know she was teasing. “If you are going to insist on bringing these animals home from our travels, the least you can do is remember their diets. Capuchins prefer nuts and berries, remember? They are foragers.”
“Eh? Prefer nuts and berries?” The rotund older man winked lewdly at his wife. “Don’t we all, eh?”
“Oh, Dickie!” Zilphia blushed prettily and pressed her palms to her cheeks. “We have guests.”
“And Cassian was happily married to our Artemesia for years, eh?” Sir Richard leaned sideways, and judging from the way his wife squeaked and jumped, had just pinched her arse. “He knows all about needing to sneak away occasionally for a bit of fun. A bit of the old zig and zag, eh? A horizontal chess match? Playing blanket hornpipe, if you know what I mean?”
As Lady Zilphia grew more flustered, Sir Richard winked at Cassian, who really could do nothing else but wave his fork weakly. “Oh please, dinnae stay on my account. I can eat my beef in solitude.”
Lady Zilphia suddenly clucked her tongue. “Oh dear, sweet pea, Jessica has relieved herself all down the back of your jacket!” She had bounced up and was now wiping inefficiently at her husband’s coat. “It is going to have to come off immediately!”
As if this was some kind of code—and knowing the two of them, it likely was—Sir Richard reached for the buttons of his jacket. “Well, damn. I suppose there’s nothing for it.” He winked across the table at Cassian, even as he yanked at his tie and continued to undressat dinner. “You don’t mind if we leave you to it, while Zilphia and I…”
“Scrub your jacket?” Cassian prompted dryly, tipping his head toward the door to the dining room. “Be my guest.”
