Page 9 of Her Tempting Traitor
Gabby’s expression softened with genuine concern as she thought about the sick animal waiting for their help.
Poor thing.
It was a shame she couldn’t march up to Inverlochy and offer her services directly. But she’d spent a decade working with and formaleveterinarians, and knew she was rarely accepted as having such skills. She was rarely accepted as havinganyskills, truth be told.
The academic world was very much a man’s world. It had rather put her off men in general.
Oh, she still hadurgeswhen she met a particularly handsome one, but knowing that they would never see her value or view her as an equal… She’d long ago decided she had no interest in yoking herself to a man who thought her inferior.
And despite her decision not to marry, she wasn’t completely against a sexual dalliance or two. It was just that, once she realized she didn’t want to marry an idiot who couldn’t see her value, she also decided she didn’t want to share her body with one. Perhaps, at some point in the future, she’d meet a man she wanted to start an affair with…
But it hadn’t happened yet.
Because men—Lord love them—tended toward idiocy. And Gabby wouldalwayschoose to use her mind before she would trust her heart.
Sighing, Gabby shook her head, knowing she should be focusing on the mission and not the patriarchy which demanded her take a supporting role.Stupid patriarchy. Shewouldtrot up to Inverlochy Castle with Hunter, shewouldhelp him pretend to be a trained veterinarian, theywouldfind out the truth…and theywouldbring down Cassian Grey.
A knock at the door startled her but her brother and Bull both stepped back—Bull sliding around one of the bookshelves behind his desk with grace of a man who danced through ballrooms and brawled through barrooms with equal ease, while Hunter put his back to the cold hearth. Gabby raised her brows at their responses, honed from their missions in the field.
“Not expecting anyone?” she whispered, a touch of amusement in her voice.
Bull’s gaze was on the door as he shook his head sharply. “Come in.”
The man who opened the door was tall and stately, his expression carefully neutral, his demeanor screamingbutler.He announced, “The Countess Mistree to see Bull Lindsay, with whom she is, and I quote, damned irritated because he never came to visit her as he promised. Unquote.”
Gabby’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter, imagining the countess chastising Bull like a child.
Bull was already relaxing, his hand falling from inside his jacket—did he always have a weapon hidden in there?—when a frail elderly woman clucked her tongue as she pushed aside her butler and stepped into the room. “Jones, darling, you are not supposed tosaythat part.”
“Yes, my lady,” he intoned.
“Oh, go find someone else to annoy.” She flicked her fingers, her smile landing on Gabby. “I am right where I need to be.”
”Of course, my lady. I shall stand in the corridor and stare at the wall, or count the floor tiles until you need me. What fun.” With a dry nod, the butler buttled backwards out the door as Lady Mistree carefully picked her way across the carpet.
Bull was out from behind his desk in a flash, holding out his arm for her. “My dear Eliza, forgive my delay. I’ve been so busy here, I havenae made time for ye.”
“Yes, you foolish boy.” But she was staring at Gabby when she spoke. “You promised to bring your niece to me and here I came, intent on berating you in person, only to discover I am right where I need to be!”
Bull shot Gabby a glance. “My…niece?”
“Gabrielle is technically your niece, is she not?” Lady Mistree sunk into the leather chair opposite Gabby. “Of course, that is not what your mother named you, but it is who you are…here.”
When she leaned across the space between them, Gabby nearly jerked back. She’d spent a lifetime communing with animals, but polite Society—and particularly old harridans who believed they could ignore polite Society—were still a mystery to her. She stiffened slightly, her back straight and her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of wariness.
As the elderly woman placed her hand on Gabby’s arm, she was surprised by the strength of the grip. Earlier this year, Lady Mistree showed up at Cousin Marcia’s wedding, theconclusion of a successful mission which had ended with Marcia married to Baron Tostinham. There’d been some confusion about a gift Lady Mistree had given Marcia…an inheritance?
“Good afternoon, milady,” Gabby managed, her grin a little weak. “I apologize for my delay as well. I have no excuse.”
In truth, she had forgotten, a most interesting fox cub taking up her attention. At Marcia’s wedding, the old woman had insisted Gabby come and visit her to receiveherinheritance. Since they weren’t related, and there had been no proof that Lady Mistree’s claims of her own imminent death were substantiated, it had seemed an easy request to ignore.
But now the old woman patted her arm. “Oh, I am certain your excuse is something along the lines ofWe thought you were a crazy old woman.” Her smile—still bright after all these years— lit up her wrinkled face, making her eyes sparkle with mischief. “And you might just be correct. But I still need to see you.”
Properly chagrined, Gabby patted the frail gloved hand on her arm. “How can I help you, my lady?” She leaned forward slightly, her eyes searching the old woman's face, genuinely curious about what had brought her here.
“Oh no, my dear, it ismewho will helpyou.” Lady Mistree winked, then withdrew her hand to fumble for her old-fashioned reticule.
Bull cleared his throat, frowning at the old woman. “Eliza has this nonsensical idea that she’s dying and she’s giving her heirs their inheritance early.”
