Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]

Chapter 42: Part 3- Locked Doors

Verushka bristled at his words. "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Grace?"

"Your Grace?" Cain arched a brow. "Are we playing the maid or the maiden now? I can't quite keep up."

"Please," Verushka exhaled sharply. "I am not the only one with multiple personas. Need I remind you that ninety percent of the time you have London believing that you are the charming yet vapid Duke of Bexley. A statement which is profoundly wrong on multiple levels. One, your father is still alive, so you are in fact not yet the duke. And two, you are most certainly not a dandy."

"If there is one thing that I have learnt from Iago is that people believe what they want to believe or what they are afraid to believe." Cain commented stoically.

"Urgh, and that another thing. Stop quoting Shakespeare! Some of us don't have your eidetic memory and I had to read the whole of the dramatic tragedies again just to keep up with you."

"My apologies, dear. Except I find them particular parallels useful in daily life. Let's say Desdemona's betrayal for example."

Cain took another step closer to her and the tang of his cologne lit a fire in her belly. As desirous as she was to seek warmth, seeing as she was dripping wet, she took a furtive step backwards and cleared her head. "Don't be ridiculous Cain. Desdemona was innocent and so am I, despite what you may think. My actions today were not designed to malign your trust in me. I simply could not tell you what I was asked to do as I am sure you could not tell me about your other... pursuits."

Verushka glanced about at their surroundings ensuring that they were alone.

"I was asked to collect gossip, titbits of information that may be useful. I was never asked to take an active role in the field and neither is it something that I wish to do in the future. I am simply not prepared for it and I am sure that there are other Agents more capable of the task."

"So, you are done with your work as an Agent?" Cain pounced on her admission.

"Yes. No." Verushka vacillated. Did working as the Secretary for the Director of Her Majesty's Secret Service count as being an Agent? "I don't know," she sighed, now feeling as weary as she no doubt appeared. The significance of the anonymity of his mother as Director was not lost on her, nor was the delicate balance achieved in Ingestre House that afternoon.

"It is a yes or no answer, Verushka," Cain asserted.

"That it may be, but the answer does not concern you," she volleyed back.

"It most certainly does," Cain growled.

"Why?!" Verushka snapped.

"Because I care about you, God damn it!"

Cain roared so loudly she felt it reverberate off the warm stone walls.

Silence filled the empty space once more and Verushka felt the small distance between them with each pounding beat of her heart. "Why?" she whispered into the whistling wind from the open window.

"You know why." Cain approached her with the calm, sedentary pace of a lion, and tucked a wet curling coil of hair behind her ear. "You know."

Verushka nodded into the cupped palm of the hand that caressed her cheek, but had not the courage to meet his eyes. They could not put words to what they felt for one another. It was pointless to try. She may not have confessed her love but it kindled in her heart like winter's first fire nevertheless.

"I was worried," Cain admitted with a tremor that plucked at his guilt.

"I wanted to tell you," Verushka offered.