Page 90 of Teach a Rogue New Tricks
Ada smiled and lifted her voice high. “Everything is wonderful, Papa. Perhaps you could come aboard, and we’ll explain.”
As soon as the final word left her lips, Cass kissed her, and he continued doing so until her father’s footsteps grew too close.
“Well,” her papa said, much closer this time, “you’ve decided to have him, then?”
She pulled away from Cass’s embrace but knotted her hand with his. “He’s coming to France with us.”
“Absolutely not. You must be married first. I may be lax in my rules according to most fathers, but this is where I draw the line. You”—he pointed firmly at Cass—“onto the docks.”
Cass grumbled but moved to leave.
Ada held his hand tight, following him and her father down the gangplank.
Her father’s golden hair glowed in the night. He turned toward her, but she could not see his features. “You do not have to come, Ada girl. Just him. We’ll figure out the details for the wedding. Have your fun for now.”
She shook her head. “The banns can be read, and we can be wed in a month. I’ll wait till then. I won’t leave the man I love behind.”
Cass turned, leaned close so she could see his expression—concern and love in equal measure. “Is this truly what you want? I will do whatever it is you need of me, Ada. Just tell me.”
She closed her eyes. She’d had charge of many situations in her life, but rarely had she found the responsibility so sweet. “We’ll leave together. In a month.”
“Very well,” her papa grumbled. “If Ada girl wants it, I suppose it must do.”
Cass kissed her forehead. “I’ll marry you in a church or anywhere you desire, love.”
“How about Berkeley Square? In broad daylight under a very particular tree.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Just like him. He was no paragon, but neither was he a villain. He was bad enough to run a little wild with and good enough to marry. And he was perfect for her.
“Do they know they must marry in a church?” Gwendolyn’s question barely reached Ada’s ears from the deck of the ship behind them.
“Hold your tongue and let them love, Gweny,” Jackson replied. “We’ll fill the church with trees if they wish it.”
Ada did not care where they married or how many trees rose around them, as long as her rogue kissed her soundly this day and every other.
Epilogue
May 1821
Cassloved the back of his wife’s neck. Slender and long with wispy dark hairs escaping her coiffure, it tempted him to kiss it every time he laid eyes on it.
Today was no different. She sat at her writing desk near the window, looking out over the Piazza San Felice, as she had every afternoon for the last three months. She’d enjoyed the months they’d spent in France, and those they’d traveled through Germany. She’d marveled at the Alps and traipsed through Spain with glee.
But she loved Florence, and he would stay here the rest of his days to see her as joy filled as she’d been since they’d arrived here.
She leaned over her book, her neck curved gracefully. He crept on tiptoes across the room and traced her neck with his thumb first.
She swung around with a startled jump. “Oh, Cass! You’re back.”
He massaged her shoulder, and she rolled her head to the opposite side, groaning.
“How does it go,” he said, finally, finally, placing his lips to her warm skin. He breathed her in, then tasted her. “Poetry making sense yet?”
She shivered and melted into her chair. “No.”
He chuckled. “Come along, love, switch places with me.”
