Page 62 of Ruthless, But for Her

“It’s an arrangement with a man. Not a seal, not a treaty, not anything that outlives him.” He heard how it sounded and didn’t soften it. “Men die.”

“Do you mean you would kill him?”

“No.” Ashton considered how much to tell her and he didn’t hold back. “I mean he’s past sixty, and what comes after him owes us nothing.”

If they were to get on the road, Ashton wanted them to do it soon to take advantage of daylight.

“There is a priory we could reach, if we leave now. It will be safe enough and offers a bed for the eve before we head further south.”

As he spoke, Ashton wondered at her look of confusion. “You said you would stay, before you knew,” he clarified.

“You assumed I would leave?”

“Aye.”

“Ashton.” She stepped closer.

So very close.

Close enough to see where the linen at her throat had been mended, and mended well.

“I am not returning to Grantchester today. I know not what the days ahead will bring, but my fate is already decided when I return home. A respite, mayhap even a year to mourn, and then I will wind up with another husband not of my choosing. I love my father dearly, but his way of loving me...ensuring I am accounted for after his death...”

Cassia was suddenly lost in a memory. Ashton wished he knew what it was.

“I would stay.”

She would stay? Why?

Ashton understood Cassia not wanting to return to a father who would only marry her off once again. ’Twas the way of it among the nobility. But she said it herself—there would be a period of mourning. One in which Cassia could tell her father of her life with Heron and her desire to avoid as much again. She spoke kindly of her father. Surely no man would willingly offer his daughter to be abused? Widows had more freedom than maidens, and Cassia knew it. She was more well-read than anyone he’d ever met, including perhaps Walter Crey.

Yet she wished to stay. With him. The days ahead would be fraught with danger. At best they would arrive at The Daisy without incident.

She asked. He answered. Yet she would stay. It made little sense.

She reached out, her hand lying gently on his forearm, as if she meant to keep him there instead of the other way around. It was a soft, gentle touch he knew not how to account for.

Their eyes met. Ashton was accustomed to calculating, but in that moment, he could not summon the ability to do anything other than stare back at her.

He was utterly and completely...disarmed.

CHAPTER 37

Cassia

She'd never touched a man on purpose. Not even her father.

If he had been a more affectionate man with her mother, Cassia would not remember it. The only “memories” she had of her were Nell’s tales of an intelligent, curious and exceptionally beautiful woman.

So why had Cassia reached out to Ashton? And what, precisely, would she do with her hand? Pulling it back abruptly would seem as telling as leaving it.

So, instead of doing anything, Cassia froze.

Ashton didn’t move away, or pull from her touch. But neither did he move closer. But then, why should he?

“I think it best we remain here while the news of Roland’s death first circulates.”

“In this chamber or at the Wild Boar?”