Her Assassin's Heart - Book 2

Chapter 10

 Rain. Thick, heavy drops of it, too. It had been her constant companion for the last day and a half. Was Scotland always this miserable, or was she simply lucky? That was something she would have to ask Lavinia if anyone sent a carriage for her. Her father had wanted there to be no chance of Lady Antrucha finding out where Lavinia and Ethan's little cottage was situated, so he had sent her by public transportation to a nearby village and arranged for Ethan to pick her up.

The dreary weather had put her in a foul mood, and she glowered at the rain from beneath her hood. One would think someone would have found time to repair the roof of the transport shelter, but that would have been expecting too much, wouldn't it? She shivered, and her frown deepened. This day couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Lady Cassandra, will you not sit with me here? It's not near as wet, and it'll be quite cosy for the two of us." Eliza had remained her cheerful self for the entirety of the trip despite the fact that she was equally as miserable as her mistress. The light tone of voice in which the words were spoken grated on Cassandra's already frayed nerves, and she folded her arms across her chest, well aware of the fact that she was acting like a spoiled child.

"I can't see as far from there." She said as an excuse, stamping her feet in an attempt to bring feeling back into them.

"Master Ethan will come, miss. He wouldn't forget your arrival." Eliza soothed. Cassandra glared at the rolling moors stretching as far as the eye could see. The faint, dusty purple of heather was clearly visible through the steadily falling water. It had become more of a drizzle now. Cold and miserable, just like her.

Standing there, she tried not to let her mind wander beyond the present. She didn't want to think about the way she had slipped out of London as though she were admitting that she had committed some crime. It wasn't at all like her, and that had played a large part of her sour mood.

Benjamin Morgan had visited the day before her departure, and she feared she had crushed what spirit he had. Surely, he must understand that she didn't love him in that way. His offer of marriage had been fluent and beautiful. He had sworn to protect her with everything he had against anything that threatened her, but there had been something missing in the proposal, and instead of thrilling with excitement, she had wanted nothing more than to hide away and never look upon his face again.

"So I guess this is goodbye?" He'd said slowly after she'd turned away from him.

"Oh, Benjamin, I hope not." She'd looked at him, chewing on her lower lip. "I don't want this to change the way things were between us."

"But you'll never love me that way." His large, hound-like eyes had held something like understanding. "I knew it. I just didn't want to be right about it, and I couldn't let you leave without trying."

She'd hugged him and kissed his cheek, making him swear not to tell anyone that she was going. Her father had wanted it to be a secret, but she couldn't stop herself from telling him. He needed to know that she wouldn't be there to visit. It was only fair after the way he had stood by her with unflinching faith even after he knew what slim chance he had of winning her affection.

A sharp blast of wind buffeted against her, and she closed her eyes against the memories. What kind of person was she? She had tried so hard to change, but through all of it, she still seemed to hurt the people closest to her. Her father's strained features played in her mind. Gritting her teeth, she pressed her palms against her eyes until patches of bright light erased the image of her father. She was tired. Exhausted. Nothing would have been more welcome to her than a warm bed and the loosening of her corset.