Page 104 of Ruthless, But for Her

“And you were present when your husband died?”

Cassia felt de Grey watching her.

“I was.”

The man glanced down at the parchment before him. “It is claimed Sir Roland Heron was murdered by the men who call themselves the Black Sails.”

There it was. The story Roland's men had told, so easily believable for those who did not know the actual Black Sails crew.

Cassia raised her chin. “That claim is false.”

A stir began in the direction where de Grey sat, but Cassia did not break eye contact with the sheriff.

She waited for it to quiet.

“Proceed,” he said.

“My husband came to Mere’s End for me. He brought his own men, under no banner. We stood... and when he attempted to reach for me⁠—”

“Again, my lady. Why was he forced to reach for you? You were held against your will, correct?”

She'd thought hard on the answer to this question.

“I was treated more kindly by the Black Sails crew than I was by Sir Roland, my husband.”

Another stir, but this time louder. Cassia refused to drop her shoulders or look down. These were the men who thought Cassia was nothing more than property to be bought and sold. She owed them nothing.

“I ask again,” the sheriff raised his voice above the crowd's murmur. “Was your husband forced to reach for you because you were held against your will?”

“I cannot speak to my deceased husband’s reasons for reaching for me. I know only that when he did, he slipped on the wet stones and slid into the sea. None, including his own men, could save him.”

The words came easily. Even the mistruth she'd spoken at the end of her prepared speech.

Cassia swallowed.

“He fell,” she repeated. “No one pushed him. No one struck him.”

She looked directly at de Grey. “The Black Sails crew did not murder my husband.”

The warden's look of pure disgust for her was something Cassia had prepared for. He would have been a decent-enough-looking man if not for the contortion of his face. Eyes narrowed, nose flared, jaw set, he stared back at her so hard that, for the first time since arriving, Cassia wondered if the man she'd hired to escort her here could keep her safe.

But that was a problem for later. At present, the questions kept coming. She answered them, again and again, in the same way.

Had Roland been struck?

No.

Had she seen any man push him?

No.

Had Ashton or either of his brothers ordered his death?

No.

Finally, the sheriff looked toward de Grey.

“My lord?”