Page 30 of Ruthless, But for Her

The path was well worn, the view enticing enough, even for those who disliked the climb.

“The walk is too steep in places, but we'll adjust our pace to account for it,” he told her.

Lady Cassia said nothing.

Typically, he appreciated silence. Longed for it. But not with her... Ashton wanted to know what she was thinking.

“'Tis beautiful from here.”

Ashton agreed, but he was looking more at Lady Cassia's profile than at the sea beyond her.

“You've had no word then, yet?”

“No. Not yet. Though I wouldn't expect our message to be received and responded to so quickly.”

Cassia looked so sharply at him that she nearly stumbled on the loose stone in front of her.

He resisted the urge to assist her, knowing full well she'd recoil at his touch.

“What message did you send?”

“The note read, ‘Lady Cassia is safe at Mere's End. We await your word.’”

Just as the lady seemed to be awaiting the remainder of the message, of which there was none.

He and his brothers had discussed it, drafted multiple messages, but it had been Ashton who’d pressed hardest for the briefest message. Walter Crey had taught him that one, years ago, over a cup gone cold. “A man who asks for nothing,” he'd said, “leaves his enemy nothing to refuse.” Ashton had been young enough then to ask why that mattered. Crey hadn't answered. He'd only smiled, the way he did when he thought a question was really an answer in disguise.

“No more? Nothing of your demands?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

His eyes dipped to Lady Cassia's slender fingers, holding up both sides of her gown as they walked. The garment was a simple and serviceable one, but still too long for a walk such as this.

“We have no demands.”

Lady Cassia slowed, so he did the same.

“Why, then, precisely, did you abduct me?”

Her tone tested him. Ashton was aware a lady such as she would've been trained for temperance.

Not that it mattered. But he wanted the fire beneath instead.

“We lost a route six months past. Land, not sea.”

“Lost it how?”

“The March Warden decided it belonged to him.”

She looked at him properly then, the way she had on the deck of The Aldgate, before she understood what he was.

“Silas de Grey.”

“Aye.”

“And my husband works for him.”

“Your husband was appointed to finish what de Grey started. A warden who watches the border. A deputy who watches the coast.”

She said nothing for the length of several steps.