“As for location,” Robert continued as he watched her watch him, “I would much rather work out of a home-bound office. Or else have an office that is within one block or so of the house.”
Her eyebrow twitched. “And why is that?”
Robert couldn’t resist the lopsided smile that blossomed. “As I said before, I’m partial to your company.”
The fan didn’t hide her responding smile as she again focused ahead. “Ah yes. I seem to recall that statement.”
“Well, don’t doubt the truth of it. I’m having more fun than I should admit, Lord help me. I was under the impression from my acquaintances that anything regarding parties and their planning was no fun at all. After this experience, I’m even more of the mind they only said that to deliberately keep me from having fun.”
“Robert,” she said with what seemed feigned seriousness, “you forget you haven’t participated in the planning of anything as of yet. You’ve simply offered your opinion in the choosing of the wedding set.”
“Oh. Right. I knew there had to be something forgotten.”
Rachel laughed at that, twinkling green eyes fully focusing on his face. “For heaven sake. Do you take anything seriously?”
Robert’s lips twitched upward as he regarded her in silence, his thumb continuing its soft and gentle stroke on her hand. My relationship with you. “I refuse to answer; on the grounds I might incriminate myself.” I have always, and I will always, take that seriously, Rachel.
Rachel laughed again.
“Speaking of homes and houses, where had you intended for us to live once we’ve taken that fateful step into holy wedlock?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she briefly tightened her hold on her fan. What looked to be irritation lowered her brows, so Robert reached out to give her hand a gentle pressure.
She closed her fan with a harsh movement and lowered it into her lap. “I hadn’t yet considered that,” Rachel admitted, voice taught with the previously seen irritation.
Robert carefully regarded her before venturing, “I’m certain that particular detail can wait until a few more arrangements are out of the way, Rachel. There’s no need to berate yourself.”
She pressed her lips together, and he heard the faint sound of the wood of her fan giving a soft pop.
“Rachel…” Robert rested his other hand lightly on her shoulder as he watched her profile. The action drew a clenching of her jaw, but nothing else. “Rachel, why don’t you allow me this particular responsibility, so that I don’t feel completely useless in the role of preparations for the wedding?” His thumb began a light and steady stroke against the soft material of her traveling habit. “I have an extensive knowledge of Boston and the surrounding locale, due mostly to the trips I’ve taken here to visit the children at the orphanage. I’m certain I can discover a few possibilities for residency that we can decide upon later.” Although the immediate thought of the Braxton summer home wouldn’t be ushered away.
“I should have thought of that detail,” she pressed, tone still very much annoyed.
“Rachel, this is the first day we’ve truly taken to the task of arranging anything. Why should you think of each and every small detail when you’ve never before plotted a wedding? Besides, the man typically has the role of provider, and as you can see, I’ve contributed less than an opinion to the duty. If anyone is responsible for not thinking of an important detail such as ‘where are we to live?’, it should be me.”
Rachel faced him at that, but she didn’t shrug off his touch. “Do you forget that you wanted an additional three months to the relationship? Why should you be thinking of residency when you fully expected to have additional time to court before even proposing?”
“All right, then we should both be excused from blame.” Rachel sounded a slight scoff and turned away again. “Rachel,” he soothed, smiling, “we’re doing the best we can, considering the circumstances.”
“Father expects better than ‘the best we can’. He expects perfection. Anything less has never been acceptable.”
And the personal admittance surprised Robert. What an overwhelming and… painful realization to have as a sensitive young lady. To believe that your father wants better than what you’ve done. To believe he won’t be satisfied with less than perfect. Robert had a hard time believing her father to be that demanding, and yet what else would have caused her to believe it? How do I work past that? How do I help them heal that relationship? Especially when he felt Henry Samson was a greater portion of the problem.
Robert released a soft breath and fought back the urge to place a tender kiss on her temple. “Rachel, if you promise not to expect perfection from me, I promise to allow you the same. Agreed?”
An answer didn’t come right away. Instead, she did the familiar one-handed repetitious opening and closing of her fan as she stared ahead. Finally, in a voice quiet and almost hesitant, she said, “Admitting that would require admitting a fault, Robert.” She briefly pressed her lips together before meeting his gaze, her expression carefully guarded. “I can’t do that.”
“But I don’t expect perfection from you, Rachel. I expect only that you do your best, and you always exceed that.”
“I exceed that because I have been instilled with a tenacious desire to be perfect. No mistakes. No regrets. No hesitation before action. Hence the reason I allow your tenderness. Retreating from it is not an option. Fearing it is not allowed.”
‘Fearing it…’ Robert lowered his hand from her shoulder the same time he released her hand. “Rachel, I never intended to give you reason to fear me.”
“I don’t fear you, Robert, I--” Rachel pressed her lips together before sharply smacking her fan against her opposite hand and looking away. “Blast,” she muttered. Then she released a deep breath and again faced him. “I have never encouraged men’s advances, and yet each day I find myself more intrigued and interested by what you have to offer. In conversation. In opinion. In… action,” she admitted, cheeks flushed but gaze still tenaciously holding his.
“I don’t understand why you would be hesitant to accept that,” Robert confessed gently, not wanting to vocalize the word ‘fear’. “Those feelings are natural between a man and woman who share common interests. It encourages a deeper attraction and pursuit.”
“Pursuit?” she repeated, tone almost incredulous. “Robert, I’ve been trained for independence and a mistrust of men in positions of authority and trust, in regards to women anyway. To allow your pursuit and tenderness is opposite all my training! Yet I can’t back away from it because that shows weakness. If I accept it and return, then I am opening myself up to manipulation and abuse, placing a man again in power over my emotional stability and agreeing to be his ‘second’ when I have been trained to be ‘first’.”
To Robert’s shock, Rachel harshly threw her fan across the carriage with another sharp vocalization of “Blast!” She faced him yet again, and it seemed as if she faced off each and every one of her frustrations and irritations with the action. “I’ve been trained to be a woman of business, and yet when I’m with you I want only to be a woman in business. Intelligent and witty and yet able to encourage a sigh and kiss with a simple action of fan and eyebrow. What kind of woman is that to run a business controlled and empowered by men? Hm?”
Robert swallowed hard as her emerald eyes sparkled up at him. God… help…
Rachel allowed him another moment to answer, but when silence continued she faced forward and crossed her arms. “Father demands upon me two roles: lover and heir, but how can I be one when I’ve been trained for the other? It’s an unfair demand; one I shouldn’t have been asked to perform without proper training. Yet now, because of it, I’m tossed between tenderness and coldness with no way to bridge the gap. I look a fool when struggling to be delicate and then I look to be unfeeling when attempting to salvage my dignity with self-control.”
She looked to him, meeting his shocked gaze with her usual frankness and sparkle of intelligenc
e. “You’ve displayed patience and understanding, which causes guilt that I have no way of knowing what’s appropriate to say or do in order to demonstrate how much I appreciate that. Especially when the flirtation you exhibit is usually returned with cold suspicion rather than a smile or feminine giggle in addition to a ‘come hither’ glance that encourages the emotion I see in your expression.”
Rachel scoffed and looked away, missing the reddening of Robert’s ears and neck as he cleared his throat and faced forward.
“No fear. No retreat. A determined response must be acted upon without hesitation, and yet I resist all because of a terror that I might enjoy it!”
That encouraged a chuckle from Robert, which drew Rachel’s frowning gaze. “I’m sorry for chuckling,” he said as he only momentarily met her eyes, “but you’re supposed to enjoy it.”
“Not when I’ve been taught that is the weakness of my sex!”
“Rachel…” Robert cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck before facing her to meet her usual tenacious gaze. “Rachel, enjoying tenderness with another isn’t ‘weakness’. It takes great courage to trust someone to that extent, due to the very reasons you listed.”
“But you don’t show fear at the displays of tenderness,” she countered.
“Don’t I? Rachel, each and every time I’m with you a fear of rejection keeps me from taking your hand, or touching your cheek, or teasing that same errant curl by your right ear… A fear, also, that I will step too far and cause you to mistrust my actions or even my very person. Or that the action of tenderness will disgust you, much as Mr. Traxin’s attentions ushered you very quickly to the gardens. But I’m willing to face the fear and encourage a relationship because I enjoy the time I spend with you.”
Rachel’s scrutiny of him deepened as she lightly tapped her lips with a single finger, the action causing the sun to twinkle within the gems of her engagement ring the same as it caused Robert’s throat to tighten at the entrancing expression within her emerald eyes. Intelligence personified in such a way that it attracted him to no end.
Finally, she asked, “Why would I reject your advances?”
The only problem being Robert couldn’t determine if she truly meant for him to answer or if it were simply a question for herself. If I had to answer, what would I say? He had no idea.
“Have you displayed yourself to be untrustworthy?” she continued. “Insincere? Manipulative?”
To Robert’s shock and internal torment, Rachel reached out and took gentle hold of his jaw in her one hand as she deeply looked into his eyes, regarding whatever she saw there and filing away the reactions as answers to the questions that he hoped wouldn’t condemn him.
“You never judge me by what you deem proper. You never classify me by what you know. You seek to understand my perspective, cajoling me from my calm with a humor I understand. Even going so far as to encourage laughter and my own sarcastic humor. So why would I classify you as a risk to my person?”
“Because you don’t know how to trust anyone anymore,” he ventured carefully and softly. Because the last person you trusted, and whom claimed to love you, sent you away and demanded you change into someone else. Robert enfolded her hand with his, pulling it from his jaw to bestow a kiss on the palm as he held her gaze. Then he gently reminded, “I’m not demanding your trust, Rachel. I’m doing my best to earn it.”
“Yes. I know,” and her admittance of that sounded thoughtful and… surprised?
Robert smiled. One day at a time, old man. One day at a time. But when each hour of the ‘day’ seemed to last a week in and of itself, heightening the attraction and the enjoyment of what Rachel had to offer? As the day progressed, Robert began to believe he would do his best to urge her for an elopement even with her staunch opposition to it. Over lunch within Mr. Belding’s boutique, Robert continually found himself praying for strength against the growing draw, especially in conjunction with the lighter tone of her laughter as he confessed tales from his friendship with Damon.
Now, lunch long-since ended and the finishing touches being put upon his wedding suit, he found himself entertaining more and more dangerous thoughts of what married life would be with Rachel Byron… Trent. The extreme awe behind the thought of the name had him swallowing hard while praying, Lord, could you have mercy and keep the attraction at bay until the wedding day? You know how entrancing and desirable she is, You being the One who created her with such care in the first place, and I would greatly appreciate the help.
Robert smirked and then frowned with a sharp “Ouch!” as he glowered at Mr. Belding– He smiled. Rachel had done the deed of pricking his leg with the pin where the suit coat fell to mid-thigh. “Here, here, my dearest one. That was uncalled for.”
A faint twinkle of mischief countermanded the seriousness in her expression. “When you’ve the look of wistful dreaming even though I’m talking to you? It was deserved and more.” She placed her hands on each shoulder and turned him to face the mirror. “What of these adjustments?” she asked while running her hands down his back to supposedly straighten and check the line of the suit coat.
Robert softly cleared his throat and tugged at the lapels as he tried to direct his focus at the subject in the question rather than the feel of her hands on his back. “Nice.” Er… Lord…?
“It seems to hang better, enhancing your physique,” she observed, giving a gentle pull to the bottom of each side of the suit-coat before stepping back enough for Robert to observe her expression of thoughtfulness and regard in the reflection of the mirror.
“It does indeed,” Mr. Belding agreed. “And should Mr. Trent need more suits than this one, for parties and balls and whatnot, it will be my pleasure to direct the crafting of them along with this one for the wedding.”
Rachel absently nodded as she moved to stand in front of Robert, still regarding the supposed hang of the suit as her hands smoothed it here and there. Hands along shoulders, then holding arms out at each side, then running along the underside of his arms and down each side. Then straightening his lapels and running her hands also down the front… Robert swallowed hard and slowly blinked as his chest tightened and his mind forced out a quick …help… before his imagination envisioned what it would have been like to respond with an embrace and a kiss.
He slightly shook his head, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut tight as he again cleared his throat and forced a smile as Rachel looked up. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for your suggestions.”
She smiled her most entrancing, a smile most men would have considered barely existent, and then focused on Mr. Belding. “Please contact Mr. Trent should you need any further measurements or consultations regarding the wardrobe. I will be in contact with you regarding my trousseau once Mr. Thorne arrives from England.”
Robert turned from the conversation and ran a hand through his hair before shrugging out of the suit-coat, measurements already completed for his trousers and vests. The two of them would now soon be off to the printers for the invitations to the Announcement Party, Wedding, and Reception alike before making their way back to the Samson estate for a discussion of the wedding holiday and the groomsmen and bridesmaids yet to be chosen. Surreal was the only word appropriate to describe how the entire situation seemed.
Especially when the engagement ring on Rachel’s finger continued to capture the light as well as his attention.
“Will you be needing help with the alterations to your wedding gown?” Mr. Belding inquired.
“At this point in time, I don’t know.”
“Miss Samson, please call on me should you need anything at all. I’m more than willing to help.”
Rachel’s smile returned, beckoning one from Robert as he slipped into his original suit-coat.
“Thank you, Mr. Belding. I appreciate the offer.”
Mr. Belding bowed and then escorted them to the front door. “Should you have any needs for specialty items, please let me know.”
Robert noticed a flush of
Rachel’s cheeks, but when she responded with “Again, I thank you,” and accepted his hand in farewell, her tone was calmness itself. Specialty items…? Robert’s ears flushed red as a vision of nightgowns and lingerie burned his mind’s eye. He cleared his throat and looked away as he waited for Rachel to finish her conversation.
“Good day, Mr. Belding. I look forward to receiving those swatches and the fashion books. Deliver them to Maggie’s attention.”
“Of course. Good day, Miss Samson. Many congratulations.”
Rachel finished pulling on her gloves and then focused on Robert. He met her gaze and offered a smile the same as his arm. “Where to next, my lady?”
She accepted his arm and his escort to the carriage. “The printers, although I’m tempted to put it off until tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
“The fitting did take longer than what I expected. More than likely due to the fact he had to start from scratch, so to speak. My tailor in Virginia has my measurements and preferences on cut, making it take hardly any time at all to hash out details of a wardrobe. If you’d rather go home and discuss the groomsmen and bridesmaid lists, I’m more than willing to put aside the trip to the printers for a later date. It will likely take barely a moment to choose the font, paper, and colors anyway. The choices of our wedding personnel, on the other hand…” You’re rambling! He cleared his throat and halted outside the carriage door, noticing an arch to Rachel’s eyebrow as she turned to regard him. He forced a smile and opened the door to the carriage. “My lady.”
Her regard continued a few moments longer before she gave a slight twitch to her eyebrow and accepted his hand up. Robert rolled his eyes, glancing heavenward with a heartfelt Lord… before stepping up after her, this time sitting across from her position. The fact that Robert could feel the pull to sit beside her and pet and flirt… The power of it wouldn’t let him sit anywhere else, and the perpetual tenacity of the imagery of another kiss began to flame a feeling of fear that he wouldn’t resist for much longer.
Broken Angel Page 25