Page 58 of Teach a Rogue New Tricks
Willow inhaled sharply.
Nora glared.
Ada ignored them. “But he has abducted no women nor assaulted any in our time spent together. He has been at times courteous of others’ desires, said kind things once or twice, and is always, always racked with guilt. He speaks with admiration of his brother and with love of his family.”
Nora snorted. “A week’s acquaintance. Even the most hardened villain can control himself for a week.” She sneered. “Can pretend.”
Cass stepped toward Willow. “Miss Cavendish is too kind to me. She tends to see the good in me and not the bad. I will not pretend to be a perfect gentleman, but I am sorry. I do know how badly I behaved, and I do not expect forgiveness. Just… a chance to prove myself.”
Willow’s jaw worked back and forth, and her eyes grew distant. She held his fate in her dainty, gloved hands, and Cass felt…
Damned hopeless. He could not leave the past behind, no matter what Ada thought. Had he really felt so light this morning, so certain he trod the correct path? “I merely need more time. Please.”
“Begging?” Willow said. “That’s interesting. Another interesting point—not long ago I needed protection fromyou,and now you’ve protected us from another ne’er-do-well. You accosted me once, in much the same way this man did. Do you remember? Or were you too drunk?”
Cass’s shoulders hunched forward. He felt as if every ugly thing he’d ever done, every horrid word he’d ever uttered had been pulled from beneath his skin. “I remember. Not much.” Except for the shame, flashes of movement and thought. Anger. Determination of an ugly sort. He stared at his hands as if they were not his own. “What did I…?”
“A kiss,” Willow said. “Hard but short.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Your attentions were unpleasant and unasked for.”
His body shook with an unleashed sob. He mastered the emotion enough to say, “I’m sorry. I know it is not enough. I never apologized for my actions that day. Or the day I…”
“The day you abducted me?”
He nodded.
“Why did you do it?”
Cass doffed his hat and hit its brim against his leg. He’d have to jump into the mind and heart of old Cass to answer that, and it would be like swimming through tar—black, murky, sticky. “Other than the drunkenness, stupidity, and anger? Jealousy of my brother. I wanted to be better than Bax at something. I wanted someone to find me more valuable than they found him. I told myself that you truly wanted me, not Bax, that I was best for you, for what you wanted to do with your life. A little freedom. Do you remember?”
Willow nodded, turned a blank gaze to the ring below. “I did not understand myself then, what I wanted. Or the concept of freedom.” She snapped her attention back to gaze. “Do not blame me for your actions.”
He held up his hands, palms flat. “I do not. Never. Only myself.”
Willow stared daggers at him, then breathed out long and hard, letting the daggers clatter to the floor. “You’ll not hurt Ada if we leave her with you?”
Revulsion rocked through him. “God no. Never.”
“You believe him?” Nora cried.
“I do,” Willow said. “About that at least.Humph. Perhaps I shouldn’t.”
Ada glared. “You should.”
Cass crept a step closer to Willow. “Tell Bax. I had decided to speak with him already. Seeing you… shocked me. But I’m ready to face him.”
Ada’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. “You are.” Her words were firm, confident. They held him up better than his legs did.
Willow placed her elbow in her other palm and tapped her lip with a finger. “I think you should tell him. I’ll remain silent until you do.” She threw her hands up into the air and turned away from him. “What is between you and Bax is complicated, and I’ll leave the two of you to figure it out. But”—she swung back around, pointing a finger at Cass’s chest—“no kidnapping. No ruination of any kind. And be perfectly respectful of Ada’s personal space.”
“Yes.”
Willow swept toward the stairs, and Nora followed.
Cass waited three deep, long breaths, then followed them, towing Ada with him.
