Page 17

T he invitation had been very clear.

C assian,

Miss Butcombe, Augustus and I will be taking tea tomorrow afternoon in the salon and would request your company. We promise not to bore you.

Aunt Zilphia

I n the months since his arrival at Inverlochy Castle, Cassian had indeed taken tea with Sir Richard’s wife…

but only when he couldn’t avoid it. Lady Zilphia on her own tended to be flighty and a bit adorable, telling stories about the adventures she’d shared with her husband before he’d been made a knight for “services to the Crown”—genteel code for “donating a pi le of money when the royal family made yet another stupid investment.”

But if her Dickie angel himself was present, then Cassian was instantly irrelevant…and often nauseated. The two of them would sit in each other’s space and kiss and coo like the lovebirds they kept in the ballroom.

Luckily, the note hadn’t mentioned Sir Richard. It had on the other hand, said that Gus would be present, and Cassian always welcomed the chance to spend time with his son—without angering the lad, if at all possible.

The fact that Gabby would be there?

Well, he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

In the hours since that incredibly, terrifying kiss—since learning so much about Gabby—since sharing that with her… Cassian had been torn.

He’d decided that day that he couldn’t continue to plan for his son’s future elsewhere, not when Gus already had a future here at Inverlochy.

He’d also learned that the attraction he’d felt for Miss Gabrielle Butcombe, genteel if impoverished sister of a most outlandish doctor, was entirely and completely reciprocated.

He could have her.

She would give herself to him.

Her response to his touch had made that clear.

And…he wanted her. But should he give in? He was a man living in limbo, a man who didn’t know what tomorrow would bring .

But damnation ! He liked her! He liked her wit, he liked her boldness.

He liked her insights—brilliant and sometimes alarming, at what she could see beyond the obvious.

He liked talking to her, and while he’d never been one of those arses who didn’t think a woman could be a good conversationalist, he’d never met one quite like Gabby.

Never met a woman so interesting and…and fun .

He liked…being around her. He liked her quips at the dinner table, liked the way she asked his opinion and then seemed interested in his thoughts—on politics, on science, on customs of people around the world.

He liked the way she could quote books on animal husbandry in such detail that she had her brother panicking, and that she seemed to do it to tease the poor man.

He liked her stories of her childhood, which sounded untamed and wild and free… so much like Gabby herself.

Aye, Cassian liked her, liked spending time with her. Liked looking at her.

She was the kind of lass it would be easy to lose his heart to.

But starting an affair with a willing lass who would only be in his life a short time… That was either a brilliant idea or a stupid one.

Cassian knew which one his cock preferred.

It had made its preferences known for hours each night, keeping him awake imagining what Gabby’s skin would taste like. How she would gasp and sigh and cry his name. How she would ask for more…

Cassian. I…I liked the way your kiss made me feel. I would like to see how you could make me feel .

She was bold and exciting, and he knew she would meet his passion with her own.

That was a powerful thought.

Even a night’s worth of hand-friggings hadn’t helped diminish his arousal, although they had eventually helped him sleep, thank fook.

Ye didnae have a choice. Quit dallying and go figure out which of the four salons they’re in .

It was the third one, the large salon which looked out over the gardens, where Gus had found him the day Gabby and her brother had arrived. Holding his back straight and concentrating on smooth steps, Cassian’s careful pace took him across the carpet.

“Cassian, you made it!” Lady Zilphia declared with breathless happiness. He bent over her hand, then turned to the beautiful redhead sitting elegantly at her side.

“Miss Butcombe,” he murmured, inclining his head.

The way she grinned, and the sparkle in her eye, when she held out her hand for him to bow over it told him that she was also thinking of that kiss in the barn.

Or perhaps what had come after it.

When he turned, his son had scooted to one side of the sofa, and Cassian was surprised by the unspoken invitation.

He didn’t allow himself to limp as he crossed to sit beside the lad, but his gait must have been stiff, because Lady Zilphia sucked in an audibly sympathetic breath as Gabby poured him a cup of tea.

“Your leg is paining you, my lad?” the older woman asked. “What does the doctor say? ”

Och aye, the age-old tea-time approved topics of conversation: health and the weather.

“It’s just stiffness, milady,” he said, his voice also stiff. “I havenae been working it enough. Or perhaps too much. Difficult to say.”

Gabby was still smiling as she passed him his tea. “One will result in tightness from lack of use in the joints, the other would be caused by tightness in the muscles from overuse. The amputation was below the knee, was it not?”

Cassian wondered if it was too late to bring up the weather.

Since the three of them were staring at him expectantly—well, Gus was munching happily on a cake while staring—he supposed he was compelled to answer.

So he stretched his left leg out in front of him and twisted his knee. “Aye. The blast took off everything from the ankle down, but the surgeon thought my tibia and fibula were useless, flopping about down there, so he took them out too.”

Nodding smartly, Gabby sat back in her chair. “To be honest, the fibula is mostly useless overall. One can walk perfectly fine without it, it has been proven.”

“How fascinating!” announced Lady Zilphia, lifting her cup. “It reminds me of the man we met in India who had no bones in his arm, but could still use it. Oh, it was most interesting, the way he flopped it all about. Or was it Nepal? I think it was Nepal, and perhaps it was his leg, not his arm.”

Nodding happily, the older woman sipped her tea .

A fine time to mention the unseasonably warm temperatures, eh? Or the rain?

Or literally anything else?

Gus broke the shocked silence by clearing his throat. “You ought to ask Miss Gabby for help with your leg, Father. She knows ever so much about animals.”

Father. Cassian met her eyes across the tea cart, remembering the conversation he’d overheard. Remembering her urging Gus to call him Da . Remembering her saying how much she’d wanted to study animals.

“Ye ken about animals. Almost as much as yer brother, eh, Miss Butcombe?”

Before she could answer, Gus did in a cheerful rush. “She says she’s smarter than Doctor Hunter, and I think she’s right. Hunter hasn’t figured out what’s wrong with the elephant, even after that exam, but since Miss Gabby is a female , I’ll bet she could figure it out.”

“An unmarried female, laddie,” Lady Zilphia corrected, clutching at her pearls. “We should not discuss…well, pregnancy or childbirth around her.”

Since Gabby rolled her eyes dramatically Cassian didn’t feel he needed to, so he just allowed his lips to twitch. “But it’s fine to speak of them around a matron and a twelve-year-auld lad, milady?”

“ Aunt Zilphia ,” the older woman corrected. “Please, Cassian, we are related, are we not? And while I never had children—squirming little hairless beasts—no offense, Augustus—I have quite a bit of experience with baby animals, which I adore. ”

Apparently, so did Gabby. But Cassian lifted a brow. “And the twelve-year auld?”

Aunt Zilphia seemed flustered. “Augustus…oh dear. Well, Augustus just seems so much older.”

At Cassian’s side, his son preened.

Likely not remembering how green he’d gone in the elephant’s stall two days ago.

Cassian cleared his throat and inclined his head, which allowed him to send a small smirk only Gus could see. “Aye, Aunt Zilphia . He does.”

It felt strange to call this woman—who was no relation to him, not really—an aunt, when he’d never had one before. But she’d accepted his wife and son into her heart, so he would do the same for her.

“Oh, lad,” she sighed, leaning forward to place her cup down so she could press her fingertips to her lips. “Artemesia would be so delighted to hear you call me that.”

Would she? He’d barely known Sir Richard and Lady Zilphia when Artemesia had been alive.

“Artemesia would just be delighted to know how well ye’ve cared for her son, Aunt Zilphia,” he said gently.

“She was a kind-hearted woman, and I ken she gets it from ye.” Not a lie.

“I’ve never fully understood what she saw in me,” Definitely not a lie , “but when she agreed to be my wife, I never questioned my luck. It’s only now, when I’m realizing exactly how lucky Gus and I have been, that I do. ”

Lady Zilphia’s eyes were bright with tears, and when Cassian glanced down at his son, it was to see the lad beaming up at him.

Finally allowing himself the pleasure, he glanced across to Gabby, and hid his pre-emptive wince.

Perhaps waxing fondly about one’s dead wife was a poor way to start an erotic affair…

but to his surprise, she was studying him with a thoughtful expression, her tea cup half-raised.

When Gabby saw him looking, she smiled—approvingly?—and took a sip.

“There is no need to question it, my boy,” Aunt Zilphia said in a rough voice, then cleared her throat and focused on loading up her plate with an overabundance of sweets. “You are a fine man, and our Artemesia recognized that. Dickie and I are delighted to have you in our lives.”

“Once I was, perhaps,” Cassian muttered, and it wasn’t until Gus nudged him that he realized he’d said it out loud, and raised a brow in question.