Page 34 of Ruthless, But for Her

The wind filled the space where words would have gone.

She sat with that for some time.

“It makes sense, I suppose. But—” her eyes met his and held, “—I know not how to reconcile it.” She looked down at her gown. “Amors sanz crieme et sans peor, est feus sanz flame et sanz chalor,” she said quietly, as if to herself.

He didn't recognize the words. He didn't need to. Whatever she'd told the sea, she'd been carrying it for a long while.

He was suddenly overcome by a feeling he couldn’t describe. That same feeling had stirred in him before, the day he'd risked himself, when he'd spoken with her maid. It stirred again now, forcing his body to do what his mind refused to name.

Ashton stood first, offering her his hand.

She looked at it a moment too long before she took it.

The path back down to the Daisy proved harder than the climb up. Loose stone shifted beneath her hem, and halfway down, her foot caught. She pitched forward.

Ashton's hand closed around her elbow before she registered falling.

He didn't let go until they reached level ground.

Cassia pulled away first.

They were mostly silent on the walk back. He couldn't say what Lady Cassia was thinking, but with each step that drew them closer to the village, Ashton could sense a shift in the air.

It could be nothing.

It could be everything.

Either way, it had been a pleasant distraction from what was coming. It was true, he and his brothers had courted danger by taking her.

But the bastard de Grey had begun the battle that would ensue. Ashton couldn't fault him for taking advantage of his position. And so, they, too, would take advantage of the lawlessness of these lands for their own gain.

The difference between them was that de Grey operated with no honor. He cared about nothing but his own personal gain. He, Ryker, and Sorren, and Margot before them, wished only to survive.

“What will happen now?” Cassia asked.

As the rooftops of Mere's End grew larger and the Daisy came into view, he offered the most likely scenario.

“We expect word from your husband by this afternoon. His station at Denby, your new home, is the better part of two days' ride from here. It’s a dangerous bit of borderland that I'm frankly surprised he's summoned you to.”

The path here cut along the cliffside, gorse and thin grass giving way to bare rock where the wind had scoured it clean.

“I was surprised as well, from what I know of the borderlands.”

He glanced at her. She offered no further comment.

Lady Cassia spoke well of her father, and though he knew little of Sir Roland, Ashton could surmise her summoning had little to do with Lady Cassia's comfort and everything to do with Sir Roland's ambitions. Any man aligned with Silas de Grey couldn't be trusted.

Sorren approached them. Even from this distance, Ashton could tell him and Ryker apart by their size and the way each man walked.

Ryker had an assurance that no one could temper. Sorren, head held high, had a quieter, but just as confident, gait.

The closer he came, the more certain Ashton was that Sir Roland's response had arrived.

They slowed as he reached them at the edge of town.

“My lady.” Sorren gave a nod of his head. Then, to Ashton, “They are here.”

“Roland's messengers?”