"We need a change of plan."
Dumping the arm load of gowns she was carrying down on the nearest armchair, Cass strove to stop her hands from shaking, her voice too. Not with nerves. No. Nerves were things she had murdered long ago. With annoyance. Rage wasn't worth falling prey to, not when she had conspicuously failed again in her bid to do anything really. So now she was being forced to do this, move over to Barwych Hall itself because of that damned man. Oh, and this one. Gil.
She didn't want to. The circumstances didn't exist on the face of the earth in which she wanted to. Live beneath the same roof as Gil Gressingham, never mind anything else, when she loved the monk's cell? But the way Devorlane Hawley was sneaking about, the fact she had caught him in her bedroom, gave her no choice. ……
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