Cade lifted his glass in a toast. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“Atreslucky guess?”
“I was out having drinks with friends,” he said.
“That’s vague. Where? With whom?”
“I doubt you’d know them, sweetheart.”
“That’s probably true, but you could at least tell me where.”
“The Curious Goat Inn.”
“A favorite haunt of yours?”
“I suppose you could say that. Enough stalling, where do you go?”
“I went to visit my mother.” Even as the words left her mouth, she was surprised she’d said them.
“Your mother?” He seemed surprised as well.
“Yes, she’s… unwell.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She has… consumption. She’s not expected to live more than a year.” Saying it aloud felt freeing. Danielle had lived with this fact every day, but allowing herself to speak it felt unexpectedly comforting.
She glanced at Cade. The man was handsome, but there was something more to him. Some bit of… dare she think it,sensitivitythat made him easy to talk to. He was charming, yes, but it was more than that. He was also… friendly to her. Kind. Yes, that was it. Kind. It was unexpected. The truth was that she was falling for his charm a little. She was attracted to him, liked talking to him. But she couldn’t allow herself to get too close. Cade might seem nice but he was also a job. Not to mention he might be a spy for the French along with the sin of stabbing his brother in the back. She didn’t know for certain.
All she did know was that he was the key to finally getting her mother to the cottage by the sea she’d been saving most of her life for. If she finished this last mission, Grimaldi had promised she would finally be free for as much time as she needed to see to her mother. He’d personally give her the money she needed.
Everything was at stake here. Her mother’s final days and her reaching her personal dream. She’d never had friends, never needed them, but she shouldn’t confuse friendship with work. This was a job and she’d do well to remember that. Friends weren’t real. Friends didn’t matter. They’d reject her when they learned of her duplicity in the house. Only family was real. Only family mattered.
“How often do you visit her?” He pulled her back to their conversation.
“Every night. I try to take the burden off her nurse.” Danielle sipped the wine he’d given her.
“As well as your father?”
“My father is dead.” The last word stuck in her throat like hardtack.
“I’m sorry.” His words were steady, even. Without a hint of pity. She appreciated that.
“So am I,” she said.
“You loved your father then?”
“Very much.” Odd that he’d asked that. Didn’t everyone love their parents?
“How long ago did he die?” Cade asked.
“I was a child.” Her heart was being squeezed. She shouldn’t have told him. “It’s late. I should go to bed.”
“I’m sorry, Danielle. Don’t go.”
The words were uttered with such simple, unabashed honesty. She couldn’t look at him.
“It’s not that. I have a busy day tomorrow.”
