Page 4 of Her Tempting Traitor
“It will work.” Gabby pushed herself to her feet and planted her knuckles on his desk, certainty flowing through her. “How do you think I have managed to work in this field for so long? I am used to men taking credit for my skills and knowledge. At least this time it will be a man I respect.”
Slowly, Bull nodded, holding her gaze. “Aye,” he finally agreed. “I am sorry for that, but this will work. I’ll put together some papers and testimonials for ye, and have my contact put us in touch with Sir Richard.”
Gabby felt her blood humming in excitement. It always happened when she was involved in one of the cases for the Lindsay Group, but this time felt different.
This time, she was going to use her skills and talents to not only help a suffering animal, but to catch a traitor.
A man who, if guilty, deserved the swiftest punishment imaginable.
So, to business. “I will round up Hunter, and we will meet you back here the day after tomorrow. Is that enough time?”
Bull nodded and moved around the desk to offer her a hug. “Thank ye, Gabby. Ye will be doing the Crown a favor.”
And more than that, she would be ridding the world of a despicable traitor. And working on an elephant!
Shewouldsucceed.
CHAPTER 1
“Ihate you! You can’t take me away from Inverlochy! You’re not my real father!”
Cassian Grey tightened his grip on his fork and refused to allow any of his emotions to appear on his face or in his voice as he responded to his son’s outburst. He met bright blue eyes, the exact color of his own, and twitched a dark brow. “Unfortunately for ye, laddie, there is nae doubt ye’re my son. To suggest otherwise is an insult to yer mother.”
Augustus, only just turned twelve years old, blanched at the hint he might have somehow sullied his sainted mother’s memory. But the anger he was holding in his shoulders didn’t abate; instead, he shoved away from the dinner table, ignoring his aunt and uncle as he directed all his ire instead at Cassian.
“You can’t come prancing in here, deciding what’s best for me, after a million years away! I don’tneedyou!” This last part came out as a shriek, which—judging from the flushon Augustus’s cheeks and the way his hands were balled into fists—only fueled his embarrassment. “Things werefinebefore you came back!”
Cassian’s own anger—anger at so many things—roiled in his stomach, but he had a lifetime of fighting to control his emotions and keep others at bay. So his tone was bland when he very deliberately didnotlook at his son, instead focusing on arranging the fork neatly beside his plate.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint ye, Gus, but some Fenian’s ruined yer life then.” He didn’t need to glance at the cane propped against the table to make it obvious what he meant. Surely all eyes had been on it the moment they stepped into the dining room. “I’ve been made useless to the Crown, and yer great-uncle has verra graciously allowed me to recover here at Inverlochy. When I am healed enough, ye and I will move into our own home?—”
“We don’thaveanother home!” The lad all but stomped his foot. “Thisis my home! I don’twantto leave and move to America with you!”
Each word was an arrow in Cassian’s heart, but he refused to allow the pain to show.
Perhaps ye should. Perhaps the lad should see that he means something to ye.
Cassian swallowed, shooting a glance at their host and hostess, his dead wife’s relatives, who were surprisingly unruffled by Gus’s outburst. “Son, thanks to my years working for the Crown?—”
“The Crown!” The boy tossed his cutlery atop his plate in his anger, causing potatoes to spill across the finely embroidered tablecloth and stain it with sauce. “The Crownthis, the Crown that!If your foot hadn’t been blown off servingthe Crown, you’d still be gone! The Queen is more important to you than we are! You ought to go back to kissing her arse!”
Laddie, sometimes when the pain is too great, I lie awakeyearningfor the possibility. It would be easier than dealing with yer anger.
Instead of saying that, Cassian pierced his son with a dark glare. “Her Majestyisimportant, Gus, and without my work, I never would have dared to court yer mother. Ye owe yer existence to the work I did for the Queen and this country?—”
“I don’t care!” The boy stumbled backwards, bumping against the chair and pushing away, tears of anger in his eyes. “I don’t want you here, mucking everything up! I hate you!”
After hurling that last blow, Augustus turned and ran from the room.
Cassian allowed his left hand—gripping his left thigh tightly—to relax. When had he even started gripping? “I’m sorry,” he mumbled to his host and hostess, who’d been murmuring quietly to one another through the exchange. “He should have excused himself.”
“Don’t be silly, lad.” Sir Richard’s forced chuckle was awkward as he bent back over his beef. “Asking to be excused? The least of our concerns. Augustus’s been…been off his feed lately.”
His wife, the American heiress Lady Zilphia, tittered dutifully. “He reallyisa good boy, Cassian, I swear. We love him dearly, but he is just feeling out of sorts since…well…”
Since yer return.
“Aye, milady,” Cassian sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face. “I ken. Truly, I am beyond grateful to ye and Sir Richard for taking him in and raising him?—”
