“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“So you’re not here to advertise to the Army?” She raised a brow.
“Cooper told you.”
“Jasmine did,” she countered. “And she heard from rumors. Why didn’t either of you say anything?”
“Cooper didn’t want to upset you with talk of war and death. And it’s only one possibility of many,” Seth said. “Winning the contest takes precedence, of course. Following that, perhaps a private investor would be interested—Mr. Nott, ideally—and as a last resort… the Board of Ordnance.”
“Through Lord Bolderwood.”
“We’ve spoken. He doesn’t want the rifle.”
“Oh.” Cassandra cast her eyes down, tugging at her fingertips. He wanted to take her hands in his and massage the worry away.
“Bishop’s and Mr. Nott’s rifles can’t compete with ours on a performance level. In a skills competition I’ll win every time, telescope or no. I’ll win tomorrow,” Seth vowed.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’m the best shot among the finalists. It’s not vanity, it’s a fact.” He drank from his mug. “Mr. Nott spends more time behind a desk than a range and it shows. Bishop is better than most, but he wasn’t trained by General Nathaniel Hollingsworth.”
As the sky darkened, more revelers joined the square, boxing them in. Seth glanced around. Where was Cooper? The trio had disappeared completely in the crowd.
“The Earl, is he your…” Cassandra paused. “Are you—”
“Am I Lord Bolderwood’s bastard, you mean?” he asked. “Question of the week, isn’t it?”
“You needn’t answer.”
“Would it matter to you?”
“No,” she said, meeting his gaze outright.
After a long while, Seth took another drink. The refreshing burn trailed down his throat into his stomach. He had pondered the question over and over in his mind and always came to the same conclusion.
“No. I’m low-born. Raised in an orphanage until I was eight years old. That’s where Lord Bolderwood found me. He did that a lot back then… searched for orphans with whatever quality he deemed important.” Seth gestured loosely with one hand. “Projects he could hone. ‘Think of your potential!’” he imitated the man. “I was the only one he brought home. I felthonoredto be chosen. Even more-so when he told me that I could be a general. Might have even done it, if not—”
Seth sighed, a long and controlled exhale.
“For the fire,” she finished.
He nodded.
“I think he figured that with Adrian and me he would have two sons, one for intelligence and the other for infantry.” Another long drink. “Though, if he wanted control over the military he should have sent one of us intosupply.”
A frown brushed her features, and she asked, “Why you?”
“My mind is a steel trap.” He pointed to his temple. “I remember everything.”
Cassandra’s brows rose. “Certainly noteverything.”
“Everything,” he affirmed. “Give me ink and parchment and I can draw anything I’ve seen before, and with the required parts I can build it.”
She eyed him dubiously.
“I can recreate almost everything I’ve seen from memory. My company had eighty-two men, I know each of their full names, hometowns, and birthdays. Give me any series of numbers, I’ll be able to recite them, no matter how long. Fine details.” He met her eyes. “When I met you, you were wearing a blue pinafore, and the first words you said to me were ‘whatare you?’ notwho.”
Now, he could draw a map with her known freckles. Knewoneway to touch her to get her toes to curl, but there was so much to learn. The edges of his vision blurred, leaving room only for Cassandra. Strands of her hair reflected golden in the lantern light, her eyes were as molten copper. He couldn’t look away from her wine-reddened lips and the tip of her tongue when she spoke.