More than a Scandal by Sari Robins

More than a Scandal by Sari Robins

Author:Sari Robins [Robins, Sari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


His face was grim. “It’s my world, Cat. Which is why I didn’t want you anywhere near it.”

“So you think perhaps that…” She mouthed, Renfrew. “…is behind this?”

“I cannot assume otherwise. And I must hasten my plans before anyone else is hurt.”

“Hasten?”

“I don’t mean to sound callous, but at least my father’s death will force the trustees to meet more frequently.” Shaking his head, he seemed surprised. “I suppose I do have a lot of my father in me.”

She blinked. “Of course you do. Why do you say it like that?”

“When my father had his eye on the target, he used every means of achieving it. I, apparently, am willing to do the same.”

“He would be proud of you, Marcus, for not wavering. He would have wanted you to go on…”

“I have to go on, Cat. I need to know if that bastard is behind my father’s murder.”

“If he is responsible for this…then how, how can you even bear to be in his presence?”

“To extinguish something, one must get close to it….” The muscle in his jaw worked, and his face hardened to marble. “And I will sit down for tea with Napoleon himself if it will avenge my father.”

The backs of her eyes burned with unshed tears for Marcus, his controlled grief and his path. She saw no joy at the end of his journey, only more death, betrayal…

Her lower lip quivered. “I don’t know how you can stand it all, Marcus…The world you live in is so…awful…”

Leaning forward and pulling her close, Marcus murmured, “It’s not really as bad as all that. I do good work for His Majesty.”

She pressed her face into the hollow at his shoulder and the rough wool of his coat scratched her cheek. Pain seared her heart and she wanted to fall into his brawny chest and sob her heart out. Only her concern for how hard this must be for him held her back, but barely. “But at what cost?” She sniffed. “This has got to wear on one’s soul.”

“My soul is just fine.” His hand smoothed her hair. “But it’s nice to know that someone is worried about it wearing a little, instead of it burning in a fiery hell of damnation…”

“That’s not funny, Marcus,” she cried, anxiously. “All of this death and betrayal…How can you take it?”

She felt his chest rise and fall in a sigh. “We all have our crosses to bear, Cat. Besides, I don’t hear you complaining about the children, the orphanage, the work you do. You’re so strong, thank heavens.”

“I’m not strong,” she muttered into his chest, feeling pitiful. “I’m just a secretary.”

“On the contrary, you are the anchor that’s going to help this place weather the storm. The children are depending on you. Andersen Hall is depending on you.”

Catherine felt his words like manacles gripping her body and locking into place. Giving in to sorrow was a luxury she never could afford. Part of her resented the inability simply to experience her grief, but mostly, she was resigned.



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