Page 110 of All Scot and Bothered

Her eyes crinkled at him with pleasure. “Cassius isn’t exactly a Scottish name, is it? It’s unique enough I’ve often wondered why your parents might have given it to you.”

His smile died a slow death on his face as some of the warmth leached from him. She’d poked at a wound she couldn’t have known he had. He measured his words carefully, unwilling to break the perfection of the aftermath with meaningless trifles.

“I doona ken if they taught ye Latin at yer school.”

“Et non est, sed in ea didici mea,” she answered. They did not, but I learned it on my own.

Of course she did. God, she would never cease to impress him.

“Then”—he hesitated—“ye ken the history of the word?”

She looked up as though to retrieve a memory. “Well, it was the name of the man who killed Caesar. One of them, anyway.”

“Not the name, lass. The word.”

Her forehead wrinkled as it was wont to do while she puzzled something out. “Cassius could be a derivative of the wordcassusbut… that cannot be right.”

Her eyes brimmed with confusion, then concern.

Ramsay turned his head away, unwilling to see the pity that would follow.

“Surely your mother didn’t name you…” She stalled, no doubt searching for a synonym.

“Empty.Ornothing.Whichever ye prefer.” He finished the sentence she could not. “My mother was also a cleverwoman, and she had ways of being hateful that were just such as this. Almost deniable, but certainly on purpose.”

Cecelia scooted up his body, which responded despite the ache in his soul. She laid her cheek against his and held him. “I just can’t imagine a mother doing that to an infant. You’d done nothing wrong.”

Ramsay let out a long sigh, knowing he’d puzzled over it his own self more than a few times. “Emptiness is what she felt in this place, I think. Her marriage was empty, as was her life here. Her heart, certainly. I was a product of all that emptiness. She hated me before I even arrived here, I suspect.”

“Do you think that is why she left you here for so long?” She pulled away to face him again, and couldn’t seem to stop herself from pressing butterfly light kisses over his cheek and jaw.

He nodded, thinking her kisses were like a balm to him that he’d never had as a child. Or ever, really. “It would have been easier for her if I’d died. She had her duke to marry, and Piers, her heir, along with a bevy of lovers and secrets. What need did she have of me? I reminded her she was common. That she was an imposter in their world.”

“She was wrong about you.” Cecelia’s vehement words were spoken in a voice harder than he’d imagined she could conjure, and he studied her features intently as she continued. “You became a credit not only to her, but to the entire empire. Despite her malicious name, and everything that came after. I’m glad she lived long enough to watch you rise. To prove her wrong. You should be proud of that.”

He smoothed his fingers across her face, hoping to wipe away the wrath that didn’t set well on features as lovely as hers. That she felt such an emotion on his behalfwas both wonderful and humbling. “I was proud when we met, but I’m not certain I should be now.”

“And why not?” she asked anxiously. “Because of me? Because of what we’ve just done?”

“Nay,” he soothed. “Because of the Lord Chancellor.”

“But you had nothing to do with his crimes,” she said, and her defense of him caused his shard of a heart to double in size.

“I’ve been shaken, to be honest. I rose to where I am because I had a keen instinct about the nature of people. If they were lying to me, or not. Which they most often are,” he added wryly. “I’d be able to tell what they wanted from me. What precipitated their actions, and how far they were willing to go to get what they wanted.”

He studied her for a long time, wondering why he was about to reveal this. “I thought ye were among the first people I’d ever met who’d truly muddled that instinct. Who’d been able to distract me long enough to fool me.”

“I didn’t set out to fool you,” she said. “I hope you believe that.”

He shaped his hand to her jaw. “I ken, lass, I ken. But to suspect I might have been working for the worst kind of criminal for so long. That I’ve been aspiring to become like him. Allowing him to influence my prejudices… It makes me question everything I ever believed about which side is good and which is not.”

“Your heart has always been good, that’s what matters.” She quirked a smile down at him, this one full of sadness and softness, but no true sense of pity. “I am sorry for what you have suffered,” she said. And he knew she meant it. “But I am also glad you’ve questioned your instincts about me.”

“Ye’re not the only one,” he muttered.

“How so?”

“Count Armediano. The first time I met him, I thought he was a trustworthy sort. I sensed something of a kinship there.”