EPILOGUE
Dear Max,
Well, we have finally left Venice. (A week later than planned, thanks to the invitation from Professor Volterra to extend our time in Rome – how could I possibly decline when his theory of functionals is so fascinating? I have much to think about in this area.) I shan’t be able to post this letter to you before we reach Greece, but I couldn’t resist taking a moment to write with our news. I have seen and done so much that I hardly know where to begin.
The waters in the lagoon can be choppy at times, but I haven’t yet disgraced myself. Ash says I am a born pirate with extremely sturdy sea legs…
“I don’t think I ever called your legs sturdy.” A voice came over my shoulder and I gave a short laugh of surprise before leaning back against Ash’s chest. His arm came round my waist, and he bent to place a gentle kiss against the side of my neck. In the mirror above the small dressing table that was nailed to the floor of the ship, his eyes met mine, full of mischief. He was damp and he had a smudge on his cheek that I wiped away.
“You shouldn’t read other people’s correspondence,” I said primly. “What if I was writing scandalous things about you?”
“To your brother? I should hope not.” Ash planted another kiss on my cheek before stepping back. His shirt was streaked with coal, and I checked my reflection to make sure he hadn’t got it on my dress, otherwise I would need to change before dinner.
“I don’t want you to undo my efforts with Max,” Ash continued. “I had to use every bit of my not insubstantial charm to persuade him to let you travel the world for the best part of a year.”
“I think Izzy should take the credit…” I began, but I trailed off, distracted by the sight of Ash pulling his shirt off over his head. The muscles in his stomach rippled as he leaned over to pull a fresh one out of our luggage. Running down from the top of his arm, the sinuous lines of his tattoo formed the image of a swallow in flight – a bird that always managed to make its way home and a symbol of good luck. Felicity, if you like.
He had another tattoo now, one on the left side of his chest, over his heart: a small mathematical symbol that looked like a figure of eight laid on its side. A lemniscate, representing the concept of infinity.
How scandalized the society I had left behind would be to learn that I had a matching one hidden on my own hip.
Ash’s tattoos disappeared beneath the fresh linen shirt that he tugged on, and he shook his head, then pushed his hands through his unruly hair, so damp that it was curling at the edges.
“Got a bit wild up on deck,” he said with a grin.
“You do know you’re not required to sail the ship yourself?” I replied, getting to my feet.
“Did I say anything to you when you and Vito were chattering for hours about mathematical equations?”
I laughed and stepped towards him, running my own fingers gently through his hair, still thrilled that I could touch him like this whenever I wanted. “No, you didn’t. But that’s because you were too busy flirting with his housekeeper so she’d keep feeding you maritozzi.”
He caught my wrist, pressed his lips against my pulse, which still thundered, even after all these months together.
In the end it had been easier than I thought to slip away from society relatively unscathed; at least it had once Izzy had brought Max round to the idea. If your brother was a duke who was friends with the royal family, it seemed that people were happy enough to swallow a story about his sister using her vast inheritance to study in Europe. If anyone knew who I was away studying with, they were careful not to mention it. No one wanted to be snubbed by the Duke of Roxton or his influential friends. Money and power made hypocrites of almost everyone.
“It will be cream buns in Cambridge soon enough,” Ash said, looking down at me with amusement. “Are you sure you want to go back after Greece?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s time. I want to see my family; Joe needs you at the club. Caroline is holding a place for me at Newnham, and Michaelmas term is not so far off. Besides,” I added, twining my fingers round his neck and pulling him closer, “it isn’t the end of our adventure, is it?”
His lips curled into a smile above my own. “It will never be the end of our adventure, love,” he murmured. “Just the start of a new one.”
“What a good answer. How nice it is, not being respectable.” I sighed happily. “I’d much rather be a scandal, after all.” And then I kissed him.