the silk.
“Kate!” cried Marco again.
Before she could respond, a small explosion rocked the basket, nearly knocking her off her feet. Looking around, she saw its force had stunned Grunwald. He lay slumped over the side, soot blackening his face and sparks singeing his coat.
Another line gave way in a shower of ashes.
Grabbing the dangling rope, Kate quickly wrenched the unconscious Grunwald upright and lashed their bodies together with a snug bosun’s knot.
If her luck held, the balloon would stay aloft long enough to anchor a swing to safety. It was a dangerous move—but there wasn’t much choice. With the roar of burning silk echoing in her ears, she took an instant to gauge the distance to the nearest tree and then jumped over the edge.
Clinging tightly to her prisoner, Kate sailed through the night air. Watch the arc, watch the angle. This was no different from swinging from the mast of her father’s ship, she reminded herself. Using her feet to absorb the impact, she bounced off the tree trunk and twisted down through the branches until the tangled rope halted their fall.
A swift tug freed the knot at her waist. Grunwald was still unresponsive, but by clutching the collar of his coat, she managed to lower him down to Marco and his men.
“Take him,” ordered Marco. “You know where.”
Lynsley’s agents wasted no time in hustling the Saxon away.
“Hurry, cara!” Marco turned his attention back to her.
Kate slid down to earth just as the balloon exploded in a fiery shower of sparks.
At the other end of the gardens, the crowd erupted in delighted cheers, thinking the spectacle was the start of the fireworks display. As if on cue, rockets shot up, filling the sky with a brilliant burst of colors.
Amid the flash and thunder, Marco grabbed her and ran alongside a stretch of the wall until they reached a small gate hidden in the ivy.
Turning, he framed her smoke-streaked face between his quivering palms. Anger seemed to pulse from every pore. “Don’t ever do anything that bloody reckless again!”
So much for a tender reunion.
Kate drew back a touch. “I couldn’t just stand by and let him escape, could I?”
“Dio Madre.” His lips traced over her brow. “I know you would fight Lucifer and all his legions to right a wrong, cara. Your courage puts me to blush.” The kiss was now feathered over her cheek. “But damn it, I thought my heart would shatter into a thousand shards when I saw you grab hold of that rope and rise into the darkness.”
“I—I thought you didn’t have a heart,” she said softly.
“Neither did I. Somehow you have brought a withered husk back to life.”
Was it too much to hope that love might take root and blossom between them?
A brilliant burst of blue and white sparks filled the sky. The soaring notes of Handel’s symphony trumpeted through the trees.
“Well, you certainly know how to orchestrate a dramatic moment,” said Kate, hardly daring to think her wish might come true.
He hugged her, a fierce, hard clench that forced the air from her lungs. “I was afraid that I had lost you. Please promise me that you will never, ever scare me like that again.”
Kate slipped her hand beneath his shirt. Through the shredded leather of her glove, she felt the steady thud reverberating against his ribs. “I know what you are thinking, but the past is the past and you cannot live in fear of its shadow. Life is fraught with risks.”
His hold tightened.
“We can’t guard ourselves against pain, but we can forge our own future,” she added softly. “One full of joy if we dare to try.”
“Ti amo,” he whispered. “I am willing to try if you are.”
“Ti amo.” Kate smiled. “You know, I am looking forward to becoming fluent in Italian. I think it’s the most beautiful language in the world.”
“Bella.” There was a long interlude before he spoke again. “Be assured, we shall have a lot of time to practice on the journey home.”
Epilogue
Now that you have returned safely to London, a celebration is in order.” Lord Lynsley raised his wineglass and saluted the four other people seated at the Duke of Cluyne’s magnificent dining table. “Allow me to offer a belated toast to your nuptials, Lord and Lady Ghiradelli.”
“Hear, hear,” murmured Charlotte.
“And to a successful mission,” added the marquess dryly.
“All thanks to Kate,” said Marco, seconding the toast. His words were soft, but his glance sent a shiver of heat through her.
“Hmmph.” Cluyne cleared his throat. “It’s a good