Page 19

H ad it been a bad idea to wash her hair after everyone had retired from dinner?

Gabby frowned at her reflection in the tiny looking glass as she brushed out her still-damp auburn tresses. The room she’d been given in Inverlochy Castle was the smallest guest chamber—befitting the unmarried sister of an invited professional—and didn’t have an attached bathing chamber.

She’d had to take the time to wash her hair in the shared bathing chamber down the hall, and hoped it hadn’t been a mistake. Her hair tended to curl as it dried, and she didn’t want to take the time to?—

“Gabs, are ye in here?” Hunter’s voice asked as he knocked, then pushed open the door.

Scowling at his cheerful reflection, she pushed her hair back over her shoulder and smoothed down the lines of the simple blouse she wore. “Yes I am, and luckily for you, I am dressed. ”

“Och, it wouldnae be the first time I’d had an eyeful of yer arse,” Hunter muttered, throwing himself onto the small chaise by the hearth. “We shared a womb, remember.”

“How could I forget?” she muttered, sliding her bare feet into slippers. “And why are you here?”

“Hiding.” Hunter stacked his hands behind his head and glared up at the ceiling. “If I’m here, I dinnae have to listen to Sir Dickie’s incessant questions. I cannae believe I let ye talk me into this foolish scheme.”

Sighing, Gabby met her own eyes in the mirror, silently agreeing with him. “Perhaps it would have been better to tell the truth from the beginning, that I am the veterinarian.”

“He’s a good fellow, but has made it clear he doesnae think ye have enough medical experience to be allowed near his precious—and expensive—Elizabeth.

I think he doesnae ken what to do if she does give birth.

Two elephants?” Shaking his head, Hunter crossed one booted ankle over the other.

“But what if she up and dies? Can ye imagine having to dig a grave for the beast?”

Gabby whirled. “She is not going to die! Is she?” Good Lord, she needed a chance to examine the animal. It was just that…well. Today she’d been distracted.

The tea in the salon this afternoon had been…remarkable. Hearing Cassian’s sweet words and his acceptance of her help had been one thing, but then to see how affected he’d been by Dickie and Zilphia’s announcement?

She hadn’t bothered to stop her own tears.

She’d seen the exact moment he’d realized he had a place , which is what he’d confessed missing. He had a future now.

Unless he is a traitor .

Well, yes, unless that.

Unless Gabby’s actions here at Inverlochy resulted in him being arrested and sentenced to hang. There was that.

But…

She was a logical woman. Known for it. And she cared about Cassian.

Could she be duped into caring about an evil man? Perhaps.

But at the same time, she wanted more of him—more of his touch, more of his kisses…and more of his heart and mind. She wanted to learn all she could about him, so she could know if he was the person to give herself to after waiting so long for the right man.

“—right, Gabs?” Hunter had said something, and she’d missed it. His expression was tortured. “We must get ye out there to examine Elizabeth. I’m telling ye, when I stuck my hand up—damnation, up there , ye ken what I mean—I didnae feel a baby elephant.”

The memory of that awkward exam—during which Gabby was less than useless because, despite her brother’s insistence she be present, she’d had to stand on the other side of the room behind the equally unqualified Dickie and Gus—made her focus on Hunter’s concerns.

“Surely you just did not know what you were looking for. Tell me once more: did you feel a leg? If the baby is turned, and she is farther along than expected, that would explain?—”

“My hand was squished in gloop, the elephant was angry, and I didnae feel a damn thing, Gabs!” He pushed himself upright, running a hand through his hair.

“And afterward, I took a scalding bath and burned my shirt. Ye need to examine her, because I’m fooking useless.

I’ll distract the guards and ye can sneak out there tonight. ”

She patted the air in front of her, trying to calm her brother. “It is a fine idea, Hunter.” Any time this past week, it would have been a fine idea. But… “But not tonight.”

He blinked, and suddenly seemed to realize what she was wearing.

All clothing that was easy enough to remove herself.

“Where’s yer maid?” he demanded.

“We are a simple doctor and his sister, remember?” Her lips curled wryly as she reached for a ribbon to tie back her hair. “I do not have a maid, not here.”

“Och, aye,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Sorry. This place is…I dinnae like it. I dinnae like having to hide out with the fooking elephant all the time and pretend I ken what I’m doing.”

Gabby paused, arms lifted, chest squeezing.

Hard as it may be for her to feign ignorance, it must be even harder for her twin to feign expertise.

“I am sorry, Hunter.” Slowly, she finished tying the bow.

Her brother would be so much happier punching a problem than pretending he was a doctor.

“I…” Her hands lowered. “You should not have to be in that position, and I am sorry. I will find a way to le arn what is wrong with the pregnancy.” And if the baby has turned yet.

Hunter didn’t seem convinced. He was eyeing her mulishly. “But no’ tonight. Where are ye going?”

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders. “I am going to investigate . Neither of us have learned anything of use about our suspect’s last mission, despite being here all these days.”

Despite the relationship she’d built with Cassian’s son, despite the work Hunter had pretended to do for his uncle, despite the time she’d spent with Cassian himself, learning his humor, his dreams, his need to confide in someone about both.

He could be an easy man to love .

Swallowing, Gabby lifted her chin and hoped her brother didn’t question her further when she announced, “Tonight he needs a friend, and I will be that friend.”

She saw the moment Hunter realized she was going to Cassian’s room, because his eyes widened, then he winced, and finally looked away. “Dinnae do…” He cleared his throat. “Dinnae do anything I would do.”

With a wry chuckle, Gabby crossed to the door. “No promises, brother,” she called as she stepped into the corridor. “You can hide in my room if you would like. Wish me luck!”

She closed the door before he could tell her this was a bad idea.

She didn’t need him to tell her that. She knew she was courting temptation, and going to an unmarried man’s room in the middle of the night was a bad idea.

Or a fabulous idea, depending what she wanted.

Cassian.

She wanted Cassian.

Taking a deep breath, Gabby knocked on his door, pleased she’d thought to learn which room was his.

When it was yanked open—by a shirtless Cassian, holding a half-full glass of whisky—she could see his suite was much nicer than hers.

It likely had something to do with him being the heir now and all that, but she couldn’t manage to focus on the argument, what with the whole shirtless Cassian thing.

His sparkling blue eyes studied her, and she could see he wasn’t totally surprised to see her.

Had he guessed she’d been coming tonight?

Is that why he was already half naked? Beneath her simple skirt—the one with the mother of pearl side buttons—Gabby’s bare thighs tingled, knowing they’d thought the same thing.

“Hello,” she whispered, voice suddenly unable to do more.

His grip on the door tightened. “What are ye doing here, Gabby?”

Whoops, wrong door!

I am a sleepwalker—did I never mention that?

I need help sneaking out to the elephant barn.

Have you seen Gus ?

There were any number of excuses she could use to explain why she was there, at his door, at almost midnight.

And none of them would be the truth.

She wanted this. She wanted him .

It took two tries to make her voice work. “You…need a friend.” A deep breath, and she straightened her shoulders. “And you said I could examine your leg.”

“Och, aye.” One corner of his lips twitched. “Good with yer hands, I believe ye said?”

With that Cassian stepped back, the invitation implicit, and crossed to the little sitting area arranged around a rug beneath the window. He sat on the couch, plunked his whisky down beside him, and bent forward to unlace his shoes.

Cautiously, Gabby closed the door behind her without taking her gaze from his sure movements. How had she never noticed how strong his fingers were? He’d held her with them—just remembering the way his fingertips had dug into her scalp made her shiver with need now.

She wanted those fingers on her. In her.

In the time since that kiss, she’d wrestled with her feelings for Cassian Grey. He was a good man, a kind man, a man who wanted what was best for his son. And she had to assume, judging from his stories, what was best for his country.

Perhaps what he thought was best.

It was difficult to imagine him a traitor .

Or was she just telling herself that to justify her response to him, her arousal?

Either way, she would soon find out.

Gabby wasn’t leaving this room without learning more about his last mission…or kissing him again.

Why not both ?

He kicked off one shoe and went to work on the right one. When he pulled that one off, she could see the prosthetic beneath. Without looking up, Cassian rolled up his trouser leg until she could see the entirety of the thing—well made, smooth grained wood, but cold-looking.

She moved closer as he began to unstrap it from the stump of his leg. When he tossed the prosthetic to the side with a dismissive flick, his movements too quick to be casual, and sat back, the emotion he was holding in check was etched across his face. Was it anger? Pain?

Gabby crept closer and stood over him. Cassian held her gaze and stretched out his right leg until his toes brushed against her skirt…as if daring her to make the next move.