Cassandra surprised herself with how quickly she could roll out of the way.
Her foe landed on his feet with the grace of a cat. He raised scrawny arms, his hands in fists. She came up on her knees, holding the book for protection. He was still shorter than she, but he was wildly ferocious. He shouted gibberish for a second and then switched to English. “Whereis my father?Where is he?”
This was Logan. The wolf cub. Her husband’s child.
Her stepson.
His face was contorted in rage. He behaved as if he expected to fight for his very life, and he blamed her.
He moved as if to strike and, with all favorable consideration of Miss Edgeworth’s admonishments on the sensitive nature of the children aside, Cassandra put the book to good use. She thumped him smartly on the head with it.
She’d not used much force but it made a nice whacking sound.
Logan blinked, his scowl deepened. He looked like a miniature Soren except with dark eyes and black hair. Still, he had his father’s jaw, and she recognized the shape of the lips. Soren could never have denied his son.
He opened his mouth, prepared to give a shout, and she said, “Stop this nonsense or I will give you another thump.” In truth, her heart was beating madly. He had given her quite a start.
Before another move could be made, Soren’s door opened. Arabella was there. “Ah, you found him.” There was no surprise in her voice.
Logan immediately backed away, moving toward Cassandra.
His change from brave attack to uncertainty gave her pause.
She looked up at his grandmother. Arabella’s face was a mask of disdain—whether for Cassandra or Logan or both of them, she did not know.
Cassandra rose to her feet, wanting to regain her dignity. Footsteps ran down the hall toward them. Elliot appeared in the doorway. He stopped when he saw Arabella and then glanced in the room at Cassandra. It took him a moment to notice Logan. Her terrible attacker had moved even closer to Cassandra, as if hiding himself in her skirts. The wolf cub had become a distrustful child.
After seeing the look on Arabella’s face, Cassandra didn’t know if she didn’t agree with him.
“My lady, you found him,” Elliot spoke with genuine relief.
“Rather, he found me. Send word to my lord that his son is safe.”
“I will, my lady. We have a signal of two shots with a musket.” He left. There were other voices in the hall. The servants were sharing the information among themselves.
Arabella took a step back so that all would notice her presence. The questioning voices went silent.
“Well,” she said, turning back to Cassandra, “that was a nice entertainment. I shall see you at dinner. Do you wish me to close the door?”
She had no questions for Logan? No concern?
Two musket shots sounded. Elliot had not wasted time. Their echo reverberated in the air. She prayed Soren wasn’t far.
“You knew he was here all along,” Cassandra said.
“Did I?” Such false innocence.
“You did,” Cassandra answered stoutly. “Did you bring him food? Let him know you cared?” Logan was all legs and arms. He could use a few good meals.
“Are you questioning me?”
Cassandra had heard the silky tone before. She’d heard it from the lady patronesses at Almack’s and from the mothers of other debutantes. It was the tone people used when they wanted to let her know she was not good enough.
Well, they were wrong.
And she was Logan’s stepmother.
“I most certainly am questioning you,” Cassandra returned coolly in a tone that would have made any of those patronesses proud. “Did you not see how worried myhusbandwas at learning of his child’s disappearance? How could you have not have said something?”
