Page 84 of Ruthless, But for Her

“I will speak to her.”

As he had done the night before, Ashton laid his hand on her head. She almost expected him to lean down and kiss her forehead, but instead, he stood abruptly, and just like that, he was gone.

The next time she awoke, sunlight was streaming in freely. Cassia dressed and headed down the ladder. Tam was already at work, but a low table, little more than a barrel with a plank across it, was now set up with fresh bread and ale that was clearly for her.

She wanted to say something, to thank him, but he hadn't even looked up. She watched him work steadily at his rope, never once glancing her way as she ate. When he finally glanced in her direction, she inclined her head in thanks, and he did the same.

Taking her ale out to the wharf, Cassia looked around for Leif, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps The Einar had already left with the morning tide. As she sat on a barrel, a peace Cassia had never known settled over her.

To pass the time, she took up the stitching she'd brought down with her, a hem she'd been meaning to mend since arriving at Tam's.

Last eve, Ashton had promised to send word to Alnwick, to her father. She wanted him to know that she was well. That he should cease his search. That she would send further word when she could.

She didn't want her father to worry. Nor did she want him to spend coin that he did not have looking for her. Though Cassia loved her father, she could not go to him. And by law, he could not command her to do his will. Not any longer, not when she was a widow. But she had an uncomfortable feeling that should she go back home, he would try to find her another husband. He had married her off to Roland once, despite her protests, and she had no real reason to believe he would respect her wishes now.

Just as Cassia's stomach reminded her it was time to eat again, a familiar figure emerged from the far end of the wharf.

She stood and remembered once when the Earl of Rushford had stayed at their manor house. Cassia had seen no more than eight summers, and had admitted to her father that she was afraid of meeting an actual earl. He had said, “You are a lady of Grantchester, sweeting. You have every right to a place in that room.” She had not fully believed him then. She was not certain she believed him now. But she remembered how to stand when someone approached her, as though she did.

“Good day, Lady Cassia,” Margot said, coming up to her.

“Cassia only, if it pleases you.”

Margot only nodded, and Cassia asked if she wished to walk with her, somewhere along the wharf where they could sit and talk. It was almost as if this were Cassia's space now, and not Margot's.

“I wished to check on you. To ensure your well-being.”

Although she believed her, Cassia wondered at the woman’s true purpose. Margot always seemed to have more than one reason for doing things.

“Thank you for doing so. You have been very kind since I've arrived.”

Margot sighed, as if the weight of her existence were too heavy at times to bear. “He doesn't fully trust me, and because of that, you do not either.”

Cassia's head snapped up from the stitch on her gown she had been toying with. The woman was incredibly astute.

“I—”

“No need to deny it. I understand his reasons fully. And I also understand your position.”

It was the opening Cassia had been waiting for. “Why haven't you told him more about his mother?”

Small as she was, Margot had a way of seeming to fill whatever room, or wharf, she stood in. Now, for just a moment, she seemed to shrink. She appeared surprised at Cassia's question.

“I am shocked he mentioned that to you. Ashton says very little to anyone, save Ryker and Sorren.”

“I've noticed.” Cassia looked out to the swirling North Sea. The same one that had swallowed her husband.

“The first time Ashton asked me outright where he had come from, he was perhaps six, or maybe seven. I told him the same thing then that I have many times since. I told him that his mother loved him enough to leave him somewhere safe. It was true enough. After that, he began to search on his own.” Margot looked down at her hands, roughened despite the fine cloth she wore now, “If I could offer more to him, I would. He is like a son to me, as are Ryker and Sorren. Unfortunately, I cannot. And it’s shaped him in ways that have both served him but also kept us from having a fully trusting relationship.”

Cassia was grateful. Margot had told her more than she could have expected. And it explained so much of Ashton's behavior.

The wind off the water picked up, carrying the smell of salt between them. For a moment, neither woman spoke.

She thought of Ashton. He spoke little because asking had never given him the answers he sought.

“What will you do now?” Margot asked.

Two things were clear. Margot would say nothing more about Ashton. And the true reason she had come to the Ropewalk was to find out Cassia's future plans.