Chapter Seven #2
Closing her eyes, Cassandra took several deep, soothing breaths. When she’d regained her composure, she met his gaze once more, steadfast and unwavering. “And what was your role in this? Did he hire you to remove his inconveniences?”
“He proposed an agreement for such an arrangement, but I declined. I answer to no one,” the lord replied. “Our transaction was purely financial. However, his debts continued to grow, as did his destructive tendencies.”
“And Evans’s role in this?” Cassandra asked.
“Ensure the duke accrued no further debts and report any suspicious activity.”
“You mean blackmail?” Cassandra glanced at Reuben, who remained silent and steadfast in his post.
“I view it as more of a protective measure to ensure any further loss of life,” Simon clarified.
“That does nothing to explain why Evans remained after my husband’s death. Am I expected to repay his debts?”
“You? Of course not.” The lord leaned forward. “But your son, the new Duke of Tolland, well, that’s an entirely different conversation.”
She nearly choked. “You expect my son to bear the burden of his father’s indiscretions?”
“A debt is a debt and it must be repaid.”
“But—” Cassandra shifted as unease crept along her spine and tendrils of fear curled their clawed fingers around her heart. “My son knows nothing of his father’s true nature—of his—indiscretions as you so delicately refer to them.”
“He is a man fully grown. Perhaps it is time he also learned the truth.”
“I—You cannot expect him to understand. He is—” A child, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue, cursing herself as silly to even have thought it. “He will never believe you.”
“Shall I summon him? Reveal the truth myself and spare you the pain?”
“He will despise me regardless.”
“Why would he despise his own mother for trying to protect him by keeping the truth hidden?” the lord asked. “You do him no favors by withholding these things. As you yourself said, the time for secrets has passed.”
Cassandra hung her head, trying to suppress the tears stinging her eyes and burning her throat.
She had not expected such an onslaught of emotion.
How could she bear the thought of her husband’s past, but the idea of revealing his true nature to their son seemed an inconceivable assault on her very soul?
“In order to fulfill the debt, I require the fealty of the new Duke of Tolland.” The lord regarded her with an indulgent smile. “If you can persuade him to listen to reason and reveal the extent of your husband’s true nature, then I will have mercy on him and forgive the financial debt.”
“And if I fail to convince him?” Fear clung to her throat, making it difficult to form the words. How could she be expected to convince her son of anything? He was as stubborn as his father, but thank heavens he had not inherited his cruelty.
“Failure is not an option, madam.”
“And what of your spy?” Cassandra asked, noting the harsh way the words left her tongue and ignoring the guilt pricking along her conscience.
“Evans will remain in your son’s service until he sees fit to relieve him of his post.” He inclined his head thoughtfully. “I leave his presence at you and your son’s discretion.”
Reuben stiffened beside her, but she could not bear to look at him. Not now. The wounds were too fresh, too raw, and her clouded mind refused to be logical while her heart demanded the opposite. She would confront him after they left.
“The documents will remain in my possession for safekeeping until he agrees to meet with me, where I will relinquish them. You have until the first of January.” The lord stood, inclining his head. “Do we have an agreement?”
Cassandra rose and nodded firmly. “The first of January.”
“Excellent.” He bowed.
A coalescing wave of mixed emotions washed over her. What madness was this? Striking a bargain with the Lord of Devil’s Acre. She swayed as her confidence waned.
When she turned her back on both the lord and Reuben, Cassandra breathed deeply, attempting to gather back some of the courage she had when she’d entered the room earlier. But it had vanished—replaced with a sinking sense of dread.
She’d made a deal with the devil, but she was not afraid of losing her soul. She feared for her son’s soul. Hers was already lost—as was her heart.
Madness, indeed. A dowager duchess caught between expectation and desire, tangled in a web of secrets and lies. And the only ally she possessed had led her into the belly of the beast.
*
Confusion and frustration twisted inside of Reuben as he followed Cassandra out of the house. The moment they’d stepped into the street, a gust of cold wind brushed against his skin, forcing him to bury his face behind the wool of his coat.
Simon knew him. Trusted him. But in those few moments with the dowager duchess, Simon had betrayed him. Not completely, but enough to reveal the true intent of those surrounding him.
The carriage rolled forward, stopping just as they reached the street. Reuben opened the door for his mistress, biting back the words burning like bile in the back of his throat.
As she stepped into the carriage, she turned abruptly. Her gaze narrowed. “Join me.”
Reuben nodded, if only to get out of the biting November wind. He gave the driver direction as well as another coin in payment for his discretion. Should anyone see him in the carriage with her—well, there would be a bounty of rumors for the ton.
Once she’d settled in the cushioned seat, he climbed into the carriage, sitting opposite and giving her a wide berth. He tapped the roof before settling back against the cushion and crossing his arms.
Cassandra regarded him with a wary expression for several long moments as the carriage rattled down the street. A long pause stretched between them, and silence lingered like an omen revealing more to the complexities of unfolding events.
Five years he’d served the previous Duke of Tolland.
Two years after the duke’s death, Reuben had remained in the service of his son.
All of that time, Reuben had believed to be in pursuit of the truth.
The horrible reality of his true mission had haunted him for years, and in a few short moments, Simon had placed his future in the hands of the woman who both desired and despised him.
He admired her spirit, but she knew nothing of his past—of his passion for vengeance.
“You are upset with me.”
He knew it was a statement, not a question, so he responded with a nod.
“Why?” she asked with a delicate tilt of her head.
Her keen gaze fixed on him. “If either of us has a right to be upset, I maintain my position. But…” She pursed her lips in thought.
“I believe there is something missing. Some piece of information that is crucial to understanding this entire farce, and yet you refuse to reveal it to me.”
“Astute as ever, madam.”
“Sarcasm is quite unnecessary, Reuben.” Cassandra sighed. “I am trying to understand the intricacies of this whole charade. But how do you expect me to help you when you refuse to trust me?”
“What would you have me say?” he asked, his tone biting. At her startled look, he swore. “My apologies.” After a deep breath, he continued, “I hardly see how my role promotes your current situation, madam.”
“I shall find a way to deal with my son and the bargain I made with the devil.” She sniffed, turning to gaze out the carriage window.
Guilt sank its teeth into Reuben’s conscience. It had not been his intention to hurt her, but the thought of allowing her into his confidence seemed more intimate than those few stolen moments when he’d tasted her cunt laid upon her husband’s desk and made her cry out in pleasure.
“Fuck.” He groaned.
Cassandra’s gaze fixed on him again, her mouth pursed into a delicate circle of surprise.
“My apologies, madam.”
“None required, Reuben.” A soft smile curved her sensual lips. “And please, call me ‘Cassandra’ when it is just the two of us.”
“So, you will advocate to keep me on the staff?” He pondered the duke’s personal dislike of his presence and wondered if he would uphold his mother’s request.
“Of course.” Her smile brightened. “I quite like having someone in whom I can confide.”
“You still trust me?” he asked, surprised.
“Not completely, but as the secrets unravel, I find it comforting to know I am not alone.”
“Your trust may be misplaced, Cassandra.” He smirked.
“Tell me.” She leaned across the carriage, resting her hand on his knee. “Would you allow harm to befall me?”
His heart thundered in his chest as blood raged through him in a torrential pulse of awareness. Heat blossomed beneath her hand as it rested on his leg.
“Never,” he murmured with a confidence that left him stunned.
“Then my trust is well-founded.” She retracted her touch and leaned back, resting her head against the cushion.
“While I would protect you with my life, I cannot pretend to be the man you wish me to be, Cassandra,” Reuben said, his heart still racing at the phantom touch lingering on his leg.
“You may be right, Reuben. I know you care about me, but your silence is concerning,” Cassandra responded evenly. “Throughout the entirety of the meeting with the Lord of Devil’s Acre, you said nothing. Not even in your own defense.”
“And that infers that I still harbor secrets from you?”
“Does it not?”
Reuben bit his tongue. Damn. He had hoped it presented more as a sign of respect than an admission of his guilt.
There were things even Simon did not know about him and his past. Things he did not wish to share with another living soul.
And yet when she confronted him, he wished for nothing more than to alleviate his conscience and reveal it.
He relented with a heavy sigh. “What is it you wish to know?”
“How did you come to be in the service of the Lord of Devil’s Acre?” she asked. “Were you a member of the Bloody Talons?”
“No. I was never a member of the Talons, but Simon always regarded me as part of his family.”
“Why is that?” Her eyes sparkled, and the world around them fell away.
“When I was a child, my parents died, leaving me and my two brothers in the care of my eldest sister.” His heart ached at the memory of his past, but it drove him forward, gave him purpose.
She wished to know him—so he would not hide behind the secrets any longer.
“We had no money. My sister worked hard to provide for us. To keep food in our bellies and provide shelter.”
“A difficult task for such a young soul,” Cassandra added, her voice soft.
“Yes, well, it did not last long.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat, skimming over the details that had pained him for so many years. “She died suddenly, leaving us at the mercy of the cruel slums.”
“Oh—” Cassandra fumbled with her words for a moment before growing silent.
“A bobby caught me picking some toff’s pocket. Took mercy on me.” He sighed. “His solution was to bring me to the Lord of Devil’s Acre—not the current one, Simon. His grandfather.”
“Just you?”
“No. My brothers and me. The old man took us in, and I quickly befriended Simon.” A small smile appeared at the memory. “We grew up together. Same schools. Everything.”
“An interesting turn of events, to be sure.” Cassandra regarded him for a heartbeat before she smiled. “And your brothers, where are they now?”
“Successful. Independent.” His smile faltered. “I ensured they excelled far beyond their station. One is a tailor in Paris, and the other is in America, making his own way.”
“And what of yourself?” Her question echoed softly in the carriage, stinging his ears. “Why did you choose the life of a servant?”
“I did not choose this life.” Reuben cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “A debt needed to be repaid.”
“Ah.” Cassandra stiffened. “A debt.”
He noted the quick alteration of her demeanor at the word. Still sensitive to the implications of Simon’s agreement and the difficult path before her.
Reuben longed to reach for her, to take her in his arms and tell her not to worry.
But he would not—could not. Their lives were never meant to intertwine, merely to run a course, side by side, until they parted ways, either by death or by the duke’s design.
It was the way of the world. He accepted it, even though it pained him to do so.
“Simon placed you in my home as a valet to spy on my husband’s activities,” Cassandra began slowly. “But that does not explain why you continued the charade.”
“I told you. I wished to remain in your service.” Reuben’s blood heated. He’d stayed because he cared for her. More than he should.
Reuben bit his lip, dropping his gaze. The first time he’d seen her, he’d known he had never before seen a woman of such elegance and poise.
She’d captivated him. When he’d glimpsed the bruises hidden under her sleeve, he’d paid closer attention.
Then he’d seen the beast beneath the duke’s cultured facade.
Saw the hate he’d borne for his wife—and the indifference he’d shown his son.
Reuben had sworn an oath on his sister’s grave to protect Cassandra at all cost to himself.
Blush stained her cheeks as she glanced away. Reuben’s thoughts drifted into silence as he refocused on the woman before him.
“I apologize for my harsh words, Reuben.” She glanced at him again. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“May I—” Her words ended swiftly as the carriage rolled to a stop.
He reached for the handle, and her hand came to rest on his.
She leaned closer, her breath mingling with his, and he wanted nothing more than to capture her mouth in a bruising kiss and steal her away for an uninterrupted night of pleasure.
But guilt needled him hard, forcing him to push the desire aside.
“Pardon me, madam.” Reuben opened the door and stepped from the carriage before he did something he would regret.
Like confess to murder.