Page 74 of Teach a Rogue New Tricks
She slipped from his embrace. “Yes.” She forced a grin. “Wise.”
He slung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll help you get a hack.” He stood and pulled on his trousers. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”
They walked for a bit before finding a hack, and silence stretched between them.
Before she closed the door to the conveyance, he held her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles.
And though he did not speak before walking off, she still heard the words echoing throughout the night—I need you.
Many people had needed her throughout her life. But this time, she’d not let someone else’s need stifle her own dreams.
Chapter Twenty
Casshad been standing before Bax’s townhome for no less than a quarter of an hour. He was not afraid, precisely, but the occasion seemed a turning point in his life, akin to the one he’d experienced in France when his father had arrived out of the blue begging Cass—Cass!—for forgiveness. It needed marking. And he needed time to steady his thoughts, collect them. He patted his pocket and the notebook resting there. He’d show it to Bax as evidence of his work.
And if Bax took one look at him and knew he’d spent the night before with a gently bred unmarried woman and threw him back into the street, well, he might cast up his accounts.
But there would be a silver lining—Ada. He’d secure a special license and book passage on a boat for the both of them. She did not wish to wed because she feared the ties it would create, unmovable anchors to home and hearth.
But if he came with her, perhaps…
And when Bax refused to forgive him and booted him out the door, as he was sure to do, he would have nowhere else to go but with her.
He knocked on the door. Best to get it over with and get to Ada’s side. Exile would not be exile with Ada in his bed.
The door swung open almost as soon as he finished knocking. Willow stood wide-eyed in the doorway. She yanked his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door just as quickly as she’d opened it. “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “Did you know he knows? And I did not tell him! He saw you at the theatre, you fool. Sneaking out of the Cavendish box with Ada. Bax has been fuming silently in his study since then, making lists about who knows what. He’s barely spoken a word except to ask me if I minded going about with a personal bodyguard at all times.”
Right. He’d not been perfectly well-behaved the past few days. He’d lost sight of his plans, his goals, because, well, because Ada. She had swift become the only goal, and he’d swift reverted to his old ways. And now his brother had seen them together.
And Cass would likely leave here with a black eye. Fine. He deserved it. But he’d get in a punch or two, too, before the day ended because he would not apologize for making Ada shatter, smile, and shiver.
“He’s in the study, then?” Cass walked toward it as if he walked toward the guillotine.
Willow followed closely behind. “I suppose it had to come to this. I’ll wait out here in the hallway if you do not mind. Perhaps I’ll call the surgeon. Just in case.”
“Well prepared with a plan. I see that has not changed.”
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Good luck.”
“I fear I need it.” He swallowed, enjoying the feel. He’d miss his neck after Bax chopped his head off. The study door loomed. The last time he’d seen his brother, Bax’s eyes had been cold and calm and done. With their arguments, their competitions, Cass’s antics, Cass. He lifted his arm. Not a tremble. Amazing, that. He knocked.
“You don’t have to knock, Willow-mine, you know that!” Bax bellowed from the other side of the door.
Cass pushed the door open, slipped through, and closed it behind him.
Bax looked up, and the concerned look on his face exploded into shock. His mouth hardened, his breathing increased. He crumpled a piece of paper in his hand with the slow, methodical movements of a man much calmer than his eyes suggested. His hand opened, quick as a candle flickering out, and he slammed both palms on the desk. He almost trembled as he pushed to his feet. “You.” The single word fell like a stone between them.
Cass ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. Me.” Despite all his preparation, despite all the words he’d imagined exchanging with his brother, he stood in a hedge maze, lost. “I—”
“Leave. And I don’t mean for you to merely exit my home. I mean for you to leave this city and this country. I want you nowhere near my wife.” Bax flinched to the side, as if he might leave the barrier of the desk between them, but then he steadied himself once more in its center.
Thank God. Cass needed that heavy piece of furniture between them. It was likely the only thing keeping him alive.
“In fact,” Bax continued, “I want you nowhere near her friends or any other innocent, unwitting lady.” His hands fisted. “I saw you. At the theatre.”
Cass pulled at his cravat. “Ah, yes, I wish you had not.”
“Ha! And I wish you had not seduced an innocent!”
