Cassandra was furious. She had never felt so. . .so. . .bah! She could just scream with how she was feeling! She couldn't sleep; she couldn't eat; she was agitated with everyone and everything.

Grinding her teeth together, she realized that she had been staring at the same of her book for the last ten minutes. Lavinia was already getting suspicious, and heaven help her if Irene knew! She wouldn't be able to bear it if those two were constantly regarding her with big, sympathetic eyes. For, of course, they would know what ailed her even if she herself had no idea.

Glancing up, she found them both looking at her with raised brows. Irene's amusement was evident. Cassandra clenched her teeth and frowned in mock concentration as she turned another page, feigning interest in whatever book she'd picked up.

"Are you feeling a bit scatterbrained this morning, Cassie?" Lavinia's calm voice even grated on her nerves.

Forcing a smile, she looked up at her sister and shook her head. "This book is simply a little confusing."

Irene, unable to help herself, released a giggle. "It might help, you know, if you it weren't—um—upside down."

Cassandra started at the words and felt her face go hot with embarrassment. Closing the book, she rose and moved to the windows, the old restlessness rising within her again.

Graham's urgent face flashed before her eyes, and before she could help herself, she was thinking of that kiss again. The way his lips felt against hers, his hands tangled in her hair. . . He had matched her passion for passion, absorbing everything she gave and sending back some of his own.

It was all burned into her mind, and she had been struggling not to think of it since that afternoon. They'd ridden back to the manor, and he'd sent her inside as though he feared something might happen to her while he tended to their mount. Then, in his strange, Grahamish way, he'd disappeared, and she hadn't seen him.

It was all so confusing. Why had he kissed her in the first place? And he'd apologized for it, too, as though the idea of kissing her wasn't a pleasant one. What had brought it all about?

Her heart beat out an erratic rhythm. Since coming to Scotland, she'd found herself tossed into a whirlpool of misunderstanding and confusion, and this just added another layer.

"Cassie, are you all right?" Lavinia's voice pulled her back down to earth.

Cassandra mumbled something incoherent in response, flushing hot. What if Lavinia's keen eyes had understood where her thoughts lay? But how could they? Cassandra hadn't even told her about the kiss!

She couldn't only blame Graham for being illusive, she thought, forgetting the other's presence as quickly as she'd been reminded. Ethan had carried him off the next day on an expedition to see that horrible Lord Brodi. They hadn't been heard from since. Perhaps that was setting her more on edge.

A tall, male figure outside had attractive her subconscious attention some minutes earlier. Pulling herself back into reality, she found herself staring at his every move intently for no reason. There were so many men in Fergus Manor. . .

The door of the room suddenly opened as though it had been flung. When she turned to look, it was Ethan in the doorway, his eyes glued to Lavinia.

"Ethan, what is it?" Lavinia's concern was evident, but Ethan remained silent. "Ethan?"

Cassandra's eyes widened with realization, and she spun back to face the window, her eyes frantically searching the grounds for the tall figure. She was going to get some answers if she had to beat them out of him!

There! She was just in time to see him disappear around the corner of a hedge. Grim determination filled her. He was headed in the direction of the stables!

Without a word, she spun on her heel and ran out of the room. Lavinia called after her, but she blocked out the sound. There was only one thing in her mind as she bolted toward the front door: this was her shot at some answers, and she wasn't about to let it pass.

The fact that she was not dressed for riding didn't bother her in the least. She ran across the lawn as fast as her corseted lungs would allow. No thought of the impropriety of the situation entered her mind.

Skidding to a stop in the stable yard, she found herself just in time to watch him ride out. His eyes caught hers, and she saw something there that she couldn't name. It startled her, so for a long moment, all she could do was stare after him.

"Did milady want a horse?" The voice broke her out of her trance, and she whirled to face the stablehand.

"Yes, and be quick about it!" She spoke more sharply than she'd intended, and the man bolted off to do as he'd been told. She was suddenly glad that that other, odious stablehand hadn't been the one to take her order, for he would have ignored her and infuriated her as a man of his station had no right to.

A nerve-wracking five minutes passed before the horse was brought to her. Flinging herself into the saddle, she charged from the yard as though her life depended on it.

She hadn't stopped to think about the fact that she had no idea where she could find Graham. She wasn't likely to catch up with him, because she hadn't the faintest clue which direction he'd gone. In fact, finding him would be almost impossible.

These thoughts only proved to infuriate her more. She leaned over her horse's neck, urging it onwards at a break-neck speed. There was no voice of reason in her to stop her, for she had silenced it long since. She had only one thought: to get to the bottom of whatever was happening here.

There seemed to be a sharper bite to the window today. It struck her sharply in the face, buffeting against her as though she were unwelcome here. Instead of stilling the fury within her, it served only to fan the smoldering coals into flames.

She wasn't sure what she was angry with. Providence for throwing her into this mess? The world for being a willing stage? Graham for playing his role so well, so thoroughly, so. . .

She thought of all the things she could have said to herself if only she'd been a rough sailor. Her thoughts were betraying her, turning against her in the worst way possible. But that kiss, oh, that kiss! She could grow old dwelling on the memory of the feeling his kiss had given her.

Disgust with herself followed quickly after the thought. How could she think such a thing? It was unbearable to be herself sometimes.

Without realizing it, she'd given her mount its head. Now, she finally took note of their surroundings. She had no idea where they were, but there was no room for worry in her at the moment.

A lake spread out before them like a sheet of glass. The sky was covered with thick clouds, and in the midst of the vividly present landscape, the water was soothing and serene. Stirred only by the occasion gust of it, it seemed to almost beckon her to come closer.

She straightened in her saddle, and her horse stopped, suddenly alert. A soft whinny escaped its mouth, and then she saw the other horse. Unsure what caused her to do so, she turned her head sharply to her right, and there he was.

A pier had been built stretching far out into the lake. He stood there, hands behind his back, staring at the water. He didn't seem to have noticed her approach.

Dismounting, she made a quick knot with the reigns around a bit of shrubbery. All her confusion and anger rushed back to her. She wanted nothing more than to understand what was going on. . .well, maybe she wanted a little more. . .

She made no attempt to quiet the sound of her feet as she ran toward him. Of course, he would be sure to know she was her already, and her attempting to be quiet would only make her appear ridiculous.

The sound of her shoes on the planks of the pier would have alerted a deaf man to her presence, but Graham made no move, gave no sign. He stood as still as a statue, his eyes fixed on the horizon as though he could see something she couldn't. If she hadn't been so filled with angst, she might have noticed how almost lost he appeared.

"Are you going to tell me what that was the other day?" Her voice cut through the stillness. She was too agitated to think of a better way to start this conversation, and frankly, she didn't really care.

He inhaled slowly, and then turned to look over his shoulder, giving her a nonchalant glance. She was suddenly aware of her disheveled state. It would be obvious that she had ridden hard to get here, and that grated on her nerves.

Graham raised an innocent brow. "Pardon?"

She felt her cheeks go hot with the fire inside her, and she stomped closer to him. "Don't give me that!" She spat. "You heard me loud and clear, and you know exactly what I'm referring to."

She found herself less than a foot away from him when she stopped. He looked down at her, and she held his gaze for a long moment. Something in his eyes made her think of that kiss, and she felt a different kind of heat color her cheeks. He smiled as though he knew where her thoughts lay, and she quickly looked away, infuriated with herself.

Collecting her thoughts, she ground her teeth together. "Why did you kiss me?"

"Maybe, because I wanted to. Does a man need any other reason?" His face was lifted in that insufferable grin. She didn't have to look at him to know it.

"You do!" Unable to stop herself, she met his gaze again.

"Perhaps I knew that you wanted me to do it." He raised a brow.

"Wha—" She was flabbergasted, speechless.

"You see? You can't even deny it. I've seen your kind enough to understand what you want, and you've been wanting me to do that pretty much since you laid eyes on me."

"Oh! I see. My kind? What exactly is my kind?" She spat. "You're nothing but an arrogant fool who thinks he has me all figured out. Let me tell you: it is for me and me alone to decide what I want, and when I do, it will be my place to go after it, not yours—never yours to tell me!"

"You ask me what your kind is," he leaned closer to her, and she saw something more than amusement flash across his face. "You're a spoiled, snobbish child who hasn't gotten over herself or her own wants yet. You prance through society with young hearts on your string, tugging them along like playthings until you grow tired of them. I've seen your sort all over the world, sweetheart. You're easy to spot and hard to mistake."

For a moment, she opened her mouth wordlessly, too angered to speak. "And where are the ground for these accusations? When have you seen me behave in such a manner? In all my time of knowing you, I have been nothing but proper. You, on the other hand, have done nothing but try to provoke me in every possible way! You say you know me, well, that can go both ways!" She knew how wrong she was even as she spoke.

"Oh, so you think you've got me figured out?" He raised a scornfully amused brow. "Don't you ever imagine from the position on your high and mighty throne that you are capable of that! I'm so much more than your little brain will ever be able to understand." He said it as though she were muck beneath his feet, and it stung her pride, not least because she sensed the truth behind the words.

She raised her hand to slap him across the face. It would have felt good to release some of her pent emotions. She was getting nowhere with this, and she knew it.

He snatched her hand out of the air, his fingers closing around her wrist in an ironlike grasp. With a grunt of frustration, she attempted to strike him with her other hand. This one, also, he caught deftly. Suddenly, he jerked her forward, causing her to lose her balance and crash against him.

She wanted to kick and scream. Even knowing how futile it would be, she wanted to let him know how she felt. Most of all, she was enraged that she had been caused to feel such things.

She would be the first to admit that her temper had never been easily controlled. Until now, however, she had been able to keep it in check with icy words and withering glares that silenced her victims. Never had she been driven to want to thrash and scream like a wild animal.

Feeling as though she might release an inhuman scream at any moment, she dropped her gaze. Every time she looked in his eyes, she was only reminded of that moment of sheer abandon in the dark alley. Being this close reminded her of just how much she'd actually wanted to be in his arms in that moment.

She wasn't sure what caught her eye first, the flash of gold or the unmistakable red. She blinked, thinking she must have imagined it, but when her vision cleared, horror replaced her anger. There was no mistaking that ring. She'd only seen it once before, but she knew immediately that it was the same ring.

"You—" she breathed, looking up to meet his eyes again. His expression was one of unmasked confusion. "That—you—you're him!" It all made so much sense to her now.

"What?" Graham's eyes narrowed.

"That ring! It's been you all this time!" At the words, his grip loosened, and she wriggled free.

He raked a hand through his hair and cursed.

"You're the stablehand; admit it!" She took another step away from him. "How could I have been so blind all this time?"

The realization crashed heavily against her, and her brain immediately resurfaced every one of her meetings with the infuriating man she'd thought to be a servant. Why would Charles have sent a servant to collect her, when Lavinia was bedridden and Ethan too afraid to leave her side, those months ago? Where would a servant learn such glib cheek?

"Have you nothing to say?" Cassandra's eyes shot up to Graham to find him frowning and looking down at his hands. "Why? I want to know why, and I want to know why you kissed me. My life was easy and simple until you decided to play around in it, so you tell me why!"

"Cassandra—" He began, and his voice was slow and uninterested as though the conversation was boring him.

"Don't give me that! I'm not a child; I'm an adult, and I expect you to answer me as such." Her voice sounded strange in her own ears.

His head suddenly jerked up as if he'd been struck unexpectedly. Whirling quickly, he launched himself bodily into her. His arms surrounded her, and she had no time to react as she felt herself falling backwards.

The water was cold. She heard the rush of it in her ears as she was submerged. Confusion filled her as Graham's arms tightened around her. Did he intend to kill her now that she had discovered his secret? The thought flashed through her mind momentarily, but the feeling of the water surrounding her soon dispelled it from her brain.

Panic overtook her. She didn't know how to swim. She found herself struggling, trying to cry out, but the water only poured into her mouth, choking her. Her lungs screamed for air, and she fought Graham's hold in vain.

Suddenly, his grip loosened. In the murky water, she could just make out his face. One of his hands reached up and touched her cheek gently. Even in the midst of her terror and alarm, she could feel that he was attempting to soothe her somehow.

She wanted to gasp for air, to breathe again, but there was only water. Her heavy skirts seemed to be weighing her down. They tangled in her wildly kicking legs, and she was trapped, constricted by them.

She felt herself slipping, going somewhere dark where there was no sun. She was terrified. Graham, on the other hand, had remained perfectly calm, holding her there and suffering not at all.

A sharp pain in her chest made her want to cry. Her throat constricted upon itself, and her lungs burned fiercely. The edges of her vision began to blur, and Graham's eyes were the last things she saw before the darkness took her entirely.

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Eep! So Graham's secret is halfway onto of the bag, I guess. I mean, there's got to be more to it, right? Do you think he wants to kill her now that she knows? If you came here looking for a quiet, normal romance book, this wasn't the place to come. Things are about to get a little adventurous, and I, for one, am thrilled!

Gosh, it's so nice to be writing again! I just have to space it out, so I don't burn myself out!! I intend to update again on Saturday if I have the next chapter ready. Until then, happy reading!