Page 77 of Teach a Rogue New Tricks
Cass almost screamed to drown out his brother’s hilarity. “Do you think this a joke? A lark? God damn you, Bax. Don’t you laugh at me. Do you want to know who Future Cass is? Who I am? This very moment, not some unknown day years from now. I’m a man overly concerned with the welfare of his estate and those in his care. I’m a man who goes to the theatre to please a lady even though I’d rather lie on a bed of nails. I’m a man who wears a fake mustache in order to have one more conversation with a woman and keep her safe from prying eyes. I might as well be a eunuch, too, since I’ll never have a mistress because—” Because he wanted only one woman in his bed, and she planned to leave the damned country. Well, since Bax wanted nothing to do with Cass, that freed Cass, did it not? Freed him to follow Ada.
Bax’s laughter had stopped long ago.
Willow let out a soft sigh. “Oh, Bax, don’t you see? Your brother is in love.”
Bax peered at Cass as he often did at puzzles and problems he needed to make sense of, at questions that needed answers. “With the woman from the theatre?”
“Ada,” Willow confirmed.
“How do you know?” Bax asked.
“Ask him,” Willow insisted.
“Are you in love with Miss Cavendish, Cass?”
“She should be the first to hear.” Cass snorted. “Not you.”
Bax’s face broke open wide with a flash of lightning he quickly controlled, a moment of joy he sternly suppressed.
Cass rolled his eyes and turned on the spot. No man would make him a plaything, not even his brother. Especially not his brother. He headed for the door then remembered the notebook in his pocket. He swept back around, pulled it free, and threw it at Bax. “There. Review that. You might find it interesting. And, if you feel differently about me afterward, write me a letter. I’ll be somewhere in Italy.” Cass strode from the room, down the hall, and outside.
He should feel defeated. The world should feel like it had slipped into eternal night.
No night. Only sky-blue freedom. Had Ada felt this way after writing to her suitor? No wonder she’d had such a bounce in her step and joy in her eye. He’d not breathed so deeply since he’d been a green boy. The sky had not been so blue and open and eternal since childhood.
“Cass.” Bax’s deep voice called out loud and clear yet wavering with some emotion.
Cass turned slowly. “Yes?”
Bax tripped down the sidewalk, waving the notebook at Cass. “This is yours?”
“It is.”
“It’s a notebook.”
“How astute of you to notice.”
“Charts and lists and questions, and”—he shook his head in disbelief—“youhatesuch things. You mock me for mine.”
“I used to. I’m not he anymore.” Cass grinned, feeling happy and sure to his very toes. “I’mme.” He turned and started down the street.
“Cass,” Bax, again, called.
Cass did not look back this time, but he stopped, waited.
“You have your second chance.”
Cass turned slowly.
Bax rocked back on his heels, looking down the street, up at the clouds in the sky, anywhere but at Cass. “I’m not saying we can be best friends or that I’d like you to escort Willowanywhere, but… a second chance is not too much to ask.”
There, in the clear spring air between two brothers was everything Cass had dreamed of since he’d woken up ill and drunk in France, lying in his own vomit.
Bax scratched the back of his neck. “Mother and Father are coming tonight. Join us.”
Everything he’d wanted. He’d earned it back. He’d won.
He smiled. He nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
