Page 110 of Ruthless, But for Her

“Welcome home, Cassia.” Sorren smiled at her as Ryker ran toward them.

“God's blood, you bastard. We thought they’d hang you.”

Margot finally let Ashton go, then looked at Cassia. As Ryker and Ashton embraced, Margot snapped back into her typical commanding manner.

“Cassia, follow me. Get yourself washed,” she said to Ashton. “We meet in the Map room. There is much to discuss.”

“The Reach?” Ashton asked Ryker and Sorren.

“De Grey?” Sorren asked him back.

“As Margot said,” Ryker pushed Ashton toward the stairs, “there is much to discuss. But you're dragging mud onto her floorboards.”

He was back to jesting, the rare moment of fear from Ryker as if it had never happened.

With a nod to Ashton, who asked silently if she wished to go with Margot, Cassia found herself, for the first time, in the woman's private chambers.

The chamber was warmer than Cassia expected. A bed occupied one wall, a heavy coffer at its foot, with a washstand nearby holding a basin and ewer. Candles, books and papers covered a small table beside the hearth. Nothing matched, but everything appeared chosen rather than acquired by chance.

“Those clothes are ruined for tonight,” Margot said, opening the coffer. “You can wear mine.”

Cassia accepted the linen cloth Margot handed her and washed the worst of the mud from her face, neck and arms while Margot searched through her clothing.

As she washed, Cassia could not resist glancing around her chamber. Margot had always been a bit of a mystery to her. When they'd stopped for a midday meal of bread, cheese and cold meat beside the road, they’d spoken of Cassia's father. Ashton had promised to send word to him when they returned.

But when they spoke of Margot, Ashton gave her very little that she didn't already know. She looked around the room, searching for something that might tell her about this enigmatic woman.

That was when she saw it.

Tucked behind a small wooden box on the table beside Margot's bed, a flash of silver caught the candlelight.

Cassia stepped closer.

It was a brooch, a thistle, small enough to fit in her palm.

Remarkable.

“Turn around,” Margot bid her, startling Cassia. “Try this.”

She handed her a narrow leather girdle to tie around her waist.

It would do.

“Ashton said he would send for my things. So thank you for lending me this in the interim.”

“You’re staying.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t answer it.

“Your hair... If you turn once again, I will adjust it.”

While they rode, her hair had dried into a tangled mess beneath her hood. Margot’s fingers worked efficiently to separate the knots and gather it into a simple braid. She’d obviously done this many times before.

“It will do. I will order a hot bath for you on the morrow.”

“Thank you.”

Cassia may have said more, but a knock on their door interrupted them.