Page 42 of Ruthless, But for Her

And what would become of her now?

A knock at the door started her out of her reverie. She asked who was on the other side before opening.

“It’s Ashton.”

Cassia had no right to feel anything other than disgust by the voice. But she did.

Opening the door, she was surprised to see him carrying a tray.

“I thought perhaps you would prefer to break your fast here rather than down below. I could join you. Or not.”

She was being silly, not wishing to be surrounded by women who merely did what they needed to do to survive. It was unsettling, though. Cassia was unsure of how to comport herself in such company.

So, she was grateful for the gesture.

“You may stay.”

She had nearly said it would please her for him to stay, but then realized the ridiculousness of such a statement, given what had occurred last eve.

Ashton placed the tray on the low table beneath the window. It held a small loaf of bread, a dish of soft cheese, cold fowl, and two cups of watered ale. He drew the room’s one chair out for her, then stepped into the corridor and returned with a second for himself.

They ate in silence for a spell.

Ashton spoke first. “Margot said you spoke with her last eve?”

Cassia finished chewing her bread. “I did. And was surprised to have fallen asleep shortly thereafter.”

“Sleep is one way for your body to cope with a great blow. It preserves itself in such a way. So I’m not surprised, and I’m glad you slept.”

He was dressed casually, with dark hose and a white linen shirt, open at the neck, sleeves rolled. He looked as if he belonged on The Einar.

“My husband is dead.”

When she thought of the moment he released the sleeve of her dress and began to fall, her hands went unsteady around the cup. She set it down before her nerves could show. The cold came back into her then, the same cold as the stone and the black water, though the fire was lit and the room was warm. She had not been cold on the landing, but she was freezing now.

He didn’t look away when she said it. “Aye,” he said. “He is.”

Not ‘I’m sorry’. Not ‘it was an accident’. Only that it was true.

When she reached for her cup, she found her hand had steadied. Cassia took a deep sip.

CHAPTER 25

Ashton

Her body could take days to heal, but her mind? Some never recovered while others, like him and his brothers, had no choice. They’d not only become accustomed to seeing a man killed, but often, had done the killing themselves.

If they hadn’t, their lives would have been forfeit many times over. Lady Cassia, however, was another story entirely. She should not have been in that situation.

A situation he himself had set in motion the moment he took her.

But Ashton was not sorry for it. Roland Heron was better served at the bottom of the North Sea.

“Your fright will subside,” he said, looking at her delicate hand and fingers. “But it might be replaced by unwanted nightmares or worse. Some find it useful to talk about what they’ve seen. Others,” he shrugged, “don’t.”

With luck, she understood. If Lady Cassia wanted to discuss the matter, he would do so. If she didn’t…they would not speak of it again.

“I don’t know what to think. I am…lost.”