Chapter Six #2
With parting smiles, the trio left Cassandra standing in the hallway as Mrs. Mercer held the door for them. She glanced behind her, eyeing the door to the study.
Burn the documents.
Infused with newfound fortitude, Cassandra strode into the room. She hesitated only for a moment when she saw the desk and the rush of desire returned with more force than she’d expected. She paused, leaning her hands against the wood, and took a steadying breath.
Burn it all.
Had she not left the documents here on the desk? Confusion clouded her mind. Perhaps she had placed them back in the drawer in her haste.
Cassandra rounded the desk and tore open the drawer where she had found the incriminating evidence. Her confusion turned to ire as her stomach twisted in knots.
They were gone. Everything. Vanished. The lockbox was empty.
*
Reuben noted the moment the clock on the mantel struck nine. The slow, simmering anticipation curdled in his gut as yet another hour passed with the continued absence of the dowager duchess.
After her guests had taken their leave, Her Grace had vacated the premises with a haste that left him curious and concerned.
Their encounter in the study that morning burned in his mind.
He could still feel her—taste her. The lingering sensations tormented him, as there were still many words left unspoken between them.
His rash decision to confiscate the documents left him with a twinge of guilt.
But Simon would ensure their safety until they were needed.
While Reuben had neither the time nor the presence of mind to sort through the documents himself, he placed them in a leather satchel and slipped from the house to deliver them to Simon personally.
It was during this time he found the dowager duchess had left, giving no indication to Mrs. Mercer as to her destination.
He doubted Mrs. Mercer believed his excuse of feeling ill and needing some air.
The whole household had noted his absence, but he refused to allow it to affect him.
Those files needed to be delivered and he trusted no one to do it for him.
Reuben paced the floor before the fire, his stomach twisted in knots.
Surely, she would return and confront him.
Where had she gone? She had no invitations, no pressing engagements for the afternoon or the evening.
He could only surmise her desire to leave had something to do with his actions.
Either that or a lifetime of deceit had finally caught up with him and he could not even trust his own intuition any longer.
The clock chimed quarter past the hour, and still no sign of the dowager duchess. No one knew the details of her destination? Should he search for her?
The lady is none of your concern, his conscience reminded him. Know your place.
Irritation prickled inside his mind. His hands flexed, desperate to be put to use.
He had busied himself with his duties and gone over the schedule with Mrs. Mercer, but Her Grace’s continued absence left him agitated.
She was not his responsibility, and yet he longed for some connection between them.
“Goddamn it,” he swore, raking his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time.
“Such vulgarity has a time and a place, but this is neither.”
Reuben spun to find the dowager duchess standing in the doorway, shrouded in darkness. He had been so distracted, he’d failed to hear her arrival. “My apologies, Your Grace.”
“I believe we firmly crossed the bounds of propriety, Reuben.” She stepped into the light and closed the door behind her. “When we are alone, you may call me by my given name.”
With pride, he swallowed an inappropriate response, carefully treading the broken shards of trust lying betwixt them. “As you command, Cassandra.”
The flicker of light from the gas lamps along the walls played over her features. Had her eyes just darkened or was it merely a play of the shadows? He clasped his hands before him.
“I believe we have some unfinished business,” Cassandra said, rounding the small table where the decanter of port and empty glasses sat untouched. She traced her fingertips over the edge of the desk where he’d sampled her just that morning.
Reuben licked his lips and cleared his throat. “I am at your service.”
“There are many questions left unanswered, Reuben.” She glanced at him over her shoulder as she circled the room. “I believe you have been keeping secrets.”
His unease grew as she prowled the study, her cadence measured, as if her confidence had been restored in her time alone.
Reuben could not help but feel as though he were the prey and she were the hungry predator.
He inhaled sharply as she came closer, stopping just within reach.
Holding his ground, he waited, heart pounding in his chest.
“I dislike secrets, Reuben.” She tutted. “In fact, I abhor them with a grand passion.”
Reuben could only nod in understanding. Her scent teased him and arousal, unbidden, spiked through his blood. He ignored it, but desire permeated the thick tension building between them. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
“Do you know why that is?” Her gaze flitted across his face, lingering on his lips briefly.
He shook his head, unwilling to trust his own voice not to break. Curse his body for betraying him.
“Oh, come now. You know precisely the reason.” She reached out, tracing her fingertip along his jaw. His breath stuttered. “My late husband kept secrets from me. Many secrets, some revealed to me this very day. Did you leave those papers for me to find, Reuben?”
“I did,” he managed the meager response, fighting against his desire and self-preservation.
“And once my guests arrived, did you remove them from the study?”
“Yes.” He met the intensity of her scrutiny with his own determination.
“What purpose do they serve you?” The corner of her mouth hitched into a sardonic smile. “You never told me the truth, Reuben, about who you are.”
“I am no one,” he replied in truth, but it rang hollow.
“I doubt that highly.” Cassandra slid her fingers around his necktie, holding him like a dog on a leash. He swallowed hard. “All this time, you have been keeping secrets. Now is your opportunity to confess…to cleanse your conscience.”
“Would you have me tell you all my sins, Cassandra?” He turned the tables, unable to bear the tension a moment longer. “How I cannot purge the taste of you from my mind. How I long to hear you cry my name as I bring you pleasure.”
Red lips parted in an O. Her grip on him faltered for a moment, only to tighten as she regained her composure. “And would you seduce me to procure what you need for your own ends?”
“I will not refute my obvious desires.”
“We cannot continue on as we have been, Reuben.” She drew her tongue across her lower lip. “I refuse to be a pawn any longer. If your intentions are disingenuous, tell me now and perhaps I shall show leniency and merely turn you out of this house instead of informing the authorities.”
“What crime have I committed?”
“The documents are gone, Reuben.” Cassandra’s gaze bore into him, relentless. “You were the only other person who knew of their existence and location. You even confessed to taking them.”
“If that is so, you should have me arrested.” Reuben grinned, and the simple response made her eyes widen. “You may be a dowager duchess, but your lot are not the only ones with power.”
“State your demands, then, and have done.” Cassandra dropped her hands and stepped back, scowling. “What could you possibly want?”
“Vengeance.”
“On whom? My late husband?” She laughed and gestured to the room around them. “I am the only one who remains.”
“Your husband may be dead, but his debt remains.”
“My son has inherited the dukedom and I made sure he cleared any outstanding debts.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Not all of them,” Reuben replied.
“How would you even know anything about this estate’s finances, Evans? My husband never let anyone but his steward and solicitor see his books. He would certainly not impart such information to his valet.”
He shook his head. “I know about this debt.”
“Tell me: who holds this debt? I shall speak to them.”
“There is nothing you can do to clear this debt.”
Cassandra’s visible frustration turned to indignant fury. “I shall be the judge of that. Now, tell me who holds it.”
Reuben marked her strength and sighed. There would be no dissuading her. She was right; they could not go back to as they had been. The winds had shifted, threatening to blow him off course.
“The Lord of Devil’s Acre.”
Cassandra gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She spun away, stalking the length of the room to pause beside the fire. After a moment, she turned back, eyes wide.
“You work for him.”
Reuben’s soft nod made her swear. He liked the rough sound of the indelicate words on her elegant tongue.
“James said he won your services in a game of cards”—she clenched her hand into a fist—“from the Earl of Winterbourne.”
“A favor between lords.” Reuben simplified the agreement. No need for her to know the full extent of the friendship between Edmund Reddington, the Earl of Winterbourne, and Simon Oh, the Lord of Devil’s Acre and notorious criminal mastermind.
“He placed you here—to do what?” She glared at him, every word bringing her a step closer. “To engage in espionage and extortion?”
“To ensure the duke maintained his end of the bargain.” Reuben braced himself for her ire as she pushed harder.
“What bargain?” she asked, her eyes blazing.
“That, I cannot say.”
“You cannot because you do not know, or you will not reveal it?”
As much as he wished to reveal the truth, the bargain itself struck between the late duke and the Lord of Devil’s Acre was not his revelation to make.
“I am merely a humble servant who has been entrusted with a task.”
“I doubt that entirely.” Cassandra scoffed. “Fine. Then I wish to meet with him.”
“With whom?” Reuben asked in surprise.
“Your employer. The Lord of Devil’s Acre.”
All humor fled. This was an unexpected turn of events.
If she met with Simon, he would reveal the truth of her husband’s depravity and the debt it had incurred.
There were none who could repay it fully.
Not without revealing the truth to her son—who would never believe it.
The late duke had shrouded himself in secrets, using them to his own advantage.
His entitlement and cruelty had been well marked by the Bloody Talons, but they had been well-hidden from those in society.
Even Cassandra, who’d endured his abuse and torment firsthand, could not stomach the veracity of the late duke’s past atrocities.
“Do you believe that wise?” Reuben asked.
“You would have me defer to my son?” Cassandra arched her brow.
Frowning, Reuben bit his tongue. His Grace was as strong and proud as his father, but he seemed to lack the same cruel predisposition, even if he was rude and childish. He sighed and shook his head, knowing Cassandra’s involvement would ensure the young duke’s cooperation.
“You will arrange a meeting and escort me.” Her smile returned, but it lacked any warmth. “I doubt the Lord of Devil’s Acre will allow any harm to befall me. If he had wished me ill, it would not have taken this long for me to uncover my husband’s secrets.”
He could not fault her logic. “I shall make the necessary arrangements, madam.”
Cassandra wrapped her hand around his tie and tugged him closer. His heart lurched and thundered with need. He held his breath.
“I much prefer my name on your lips, Reuben.” Her eyes glittered with something he could not place. “The nature of our association has shifted with such intimacies shared—on this, we can agree.”
He groaned at the implication of her words. “Yes, Yo—”
She tugged on the fabric, bringing his mouth dangerously close to hers.
“Cassandra.”
“Good boy,” she murmured. “Perhaps you can still be of use to me.”
Blood pounded in his ears. He wanted to fight it, but years of longing softened him toward this woman. He would surrender to her completely if he knew something beneficial would come of it. But it was hopeless.
Nothing would come from their passion. Nothing but pain and heartbreak and sorrow.
“Will that be all?” he asked, holding fast to his resolve.
Gently, Cassandra released him, and he straightened, adjusting his tie and smoothing his hair.
“Yes, that will be all.” She retreated behind the desk and sat down.
Reuben bowed before turning to leave the study. He needed to put distance between them. If he remained any longer, he would finish what they’d begun that morning. He would take her on the desk and show her the meaning of the word pleasure.
“Reuben.” The sound of his name stopped him just as he reached for the doorknob. He turned.
“Yes, Cassandra?”
“I expect you to bring those documents to the meeting as well.” She tapped her fingers on the desk. “If you have not already delivered them to your employer.”
“Of course. They are already in his possession.” Reuben noted the heat in her gaze, even as her lips pressed together tightly.
Never in his duration as a servant in this house had he seen such determination and grit in Her Grace. He took pride in knowing that he brought out this new side of her.
He took an even greater pride in knowing that the tension between them was not a figment of his imagination. She desired him just as much as he craved her. His fear, however, was founded.
A dowager duchess could take a lover. Whomever she desired. But it would never be anything more than a fleeting passion should she choose him.
Reuben needed to remind himself of this daily.