Damon focused on her, storm-blue eyes very slightly shining with mischief even as his expression showed seriousness. “You haven’t taken offense, have you, Miss Samson? I’m actually quite shy with new people. Don’t know how to act toward them. Beautiful ladies especially.”
Robert cleared his throat in a vocalization of disbelief as Rachel calmly said “No offense, Mr. Childers. I understand the difficulty one has with new people. Expectations are quite a challenge to fulfill when one doesn’t know what they might be.”
Damon blinked just as Robert actually sniggered. Damon focused on him. “Rob, she’s already figured me out, hasn’t she?”
“Very likely,” Robert said, tone laughing.
Damon looked again to Rachel. “Now I see why Rob’s not causing the ruckus he intended.”
Rachel’s lips twitched, and she focused ahead as Robert gave his friend another shove and said, “You don’t understand anything of the sort, Damon. Don’t be smug.” Then he gave Rachel a wink. “Damon always believes he knows everything. Most of the time he’s blissfully ignorant of just how wrong he is.”
“Here now, old man, quit painting me such a cad. She won’t prod Miss Kelley to dance with me if you keep on.”
“She likely won’t anyway,” Robert laughed.
Damon loudly protested, causing an actual soft laugh from Rachel. “Mr. Childers, Maggie will decide for herself one way or the other. I doubt she’ll need much prodding from me either way.”
“With Rob sabotaging me the way he is? I highly doubt it.” Then Damon stepped forward to give the driver of their carriage instructions for their location as Robert handed Rachel up.
“He likes you,” he whispered.
“Do tell,” Rachel responded, giving his friend a sidelong glance before fully entering the carriage. As Robert sat beside her, she sent him a small smile. “As I like him and his honest and open flirtation. So concern yourself not with that.”
Robert gave her hand a tender squeeze before lifting it to his lips. “You don’t know him yet like I do, Angel. He’s a bit of the devil.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then Damon climbed in after them, sitting heavily into the back corner of the carriage across from her. Robert adjusted the fur rug over Rachel’s lap, and Damon watched the exchange with a smirk.
Which Rachel noticed. “What do you find so amusing, Mr. Childers? You look as if you’ve just spied the miser tucking his last penny into his mattress. You scoff at us with your smile.”
Robert laughed heartily. “She’s caught you dead to rights, Damon, and don’t you deny it.” He focused on Rachel to offer “Damon is a confirmed bachelor. He doesn’t believe in marriage,” by way of explanation.
Rachel turned her gaze to Robert’s friend. “No?”
“Oh, I believe in marriage all right. I believe it’s too much trouble with no reward for the effort.”
Rachel arched an eyebrow. “So, in other words, you’re too indolent to invest the time, and too stubborn to realize you want that which you say isn’t worth your trouble.”
Robert threw back his head and laughed at the expression of shock on his friend’s face. “She’s caught you again,” he roared between gasps.
Damon grinned and touched his forehead in a salute. “You’ll do fine, Miss Samson. You’ll do just fine.”
Rachel slightly smirked, hiding it with her fan even as her eyes twinkled at him. “What makes you say such a thing as that?” she asked, voice calm.
Catching his breath, Robert spoke before Damon had a chance. “Damon has had bad experiences with the ladies.”
“Ah,” Rachel said, nodding. “You’ve a tendency for attracting the less than bright.”
Damon held her gaze, smirk firmly in place. “They would be lucky to find their way home in broad daylight with a map in their hand and the route plainly marked.”
“Dear me,” Rachel said in mock horror. She doubted, though, that they’d been so completely brainless.
Robert chuckled. “Damon, it’s your own fault. You avoid the intelligent ones as if they had the plague. What’s left are the ones no brighter than a spent candle.”
“When I say I want intelligent conversation, I don’t mean I want the lady to be more intelligent than I am,” Damon protested.
“I’m sure there is a happy medium drifting somewhere,” Rachel assured him.
“No, thank you. Too much trouble. Remember?”
Rachel felt Robert’s hand search for hers under the rug on her lap and intercepted it with a brief twitch to her lips. They exchanged a squeeze. “The trouble serves to make us more appreciative of the pleasure, Mr. Childers. To have marriage without trouble is to have the trophy without the thrill of the hunt.”
“Here, here. You best listen to her, Damon. This woman is as bright and gifted as they come.”
Damon examined Robert and Rachel’s exchanged glance and softly chuckled. “This I don’t doubt.” Then he folded his hands behind his head and leaned a bit further back into the velvety softness of the carriage seat. “So, what have you been doing with yourself while away from your father’s clutches, old man? The escape certainly has agreed with you. I must say I’m jealous.”
Robert smirked and began a tender caress of Rachel’s hand beneath the rug. “Mostly I’ve made a nuisance of myself to Miss Samson and her father. When I wasn’t amusing myself with the children, that is. Oh, and I showed Miss Samson the house.”
“Not that old farmhouse again.” Damon rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “I hope she laughed square in your face when you told her your future dream for it.”
Rachel looked to Robert, arching an eyebrow when he tugged at his collar and sent Damon a glare. “‘Future dream’?”
Damon cleared his throat, lowering his hands from behind his head. “Uh-oh. Sorry, Rob. I didn’t mean to let the cat out of the bag this way. Really.”
“I find that comment hard to believe, you numbskull,” Robert grumbled. “You always did have a jealous streak through you about a mile wide.”
Damon raised his hands in defense. “Rob, how can you say that? I swear. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Rachel’s eyebrow twitched as she regarded Robert’s flushed face and neck. “Surely the dream couldn’t be as bad as that. After all, you previously confessed your plan to have it be house and home upon our return from the holiday.”
“House and home?” Damon repeated with a slow smile. “You’ve no idea.”
Robert’s glare darkened. “Damon!”
Rachel blinked in surprise at Robert’s short tone and angry expression. “La! Certainly his cajoling didn’t warrant that.”
To which Robert responded with only a clenched jaw.
Damon shook his head, drawing Rachel’s focus. “It’s my fault, Miss Samson. I love to goad him. He’s so easy to embarrass.”
“‘Easy to embarrass’? You jest.” But when she again focused on Robert, his expression clearly showed the truth of it. “What could possibly embarrass you regarding that cottage?”
“Shall I tell her, Rob?”
Robert’s jaw muscles danced.
Damon grinned and then focused again on Rachel, who continued to examine Robert’s taut expression of irritation. “I suppose he mentioned the fact that his great-grandfather and great-grandmother met at that farmhouse?”
“Yes,” Rachel acknowledged, finally meeting Damon’s gaze. “What is so extraordinary in that?”
“He also told you that his great-grandfather always remembered it?”
“Yes.”
If possible, Damon’s grin widened. “A quaint place, that farmhouse. Secluded. Easy access to all the rooms. Cozy.”
“Ah,” Rachel said calmly, cheeks slightly flushed with the realization of his meaning. “I see. They had a large family, did they?”
“Six. Three girls and three boys,” Damon informed.
Rachel suddenly laughed, her hand tightening on Robert’s. When she felt his gaze
, she met it, eyes twinkling. “You needn’t have been embarrassed of that, Robert. Did you suppose I would doubt your motives for taking me there?”
Robert clenched his jaw and looked away.
Rachel’s laughter quieted, and she smoothed the skin of his hand beneath the rug with her thumb. He still didn’t look at her. “Forgive me, Robert. I shouldn’t have laughed at your expense.”
He said nothing.
“You might as well leave him be for a while, Miss Samson. When he gets like this there’s no telling when he’ll talk.”
Rachel examined Robert’s profile, eyebrow slowly arching. “Certainly you’re not angry with me, Robert? I didn’t intend offense.”
“Oh, he’s not angry. Just flustered because he got found out. He’ll be fine--”
Rachel tapped the carriage roof with her fan, causing it to grumble and groan to a halt. Then she leaned over and opened the door to the carriage, climbing out and tugging Robert’s hand to bring him out after her. Once she had led him slightly away, she turned to face him. Robert, however, would not meet her gaze. Instead, he easily looked over the top of her head.
“This isn’t like you, Robert.” He clenched his jaw, which caused Rachel to put her hands onto her hips. “Oh, for heaven sake. Say something.”
At that, Robert caught her gaze. “What would you have me say, Rachel? Damon has successfully--”
“Oh yes. Damon has successfully goaded you to a bit of a temper, due mostly to the fact you’ve made yourself an easy target. That isn’t like you at all. Instead of allowing him his fun, you’re being overly sensitive.”
“‘Overly sensitive’?” Robert repeated, shocked. “Don’t I have reason? He purposefully embarrassed you with the talk of intimacy and children, knowing very well the farmhouse was used as my great-grandparents’ private getaway. He also knows that each time they returned, great-grandfather acquired another addition to his family. Damon knew I wouldn’t have told you that particular story because of propriety’s demands, and yet he told it anyway. In such a way as to make me look questionable in your eyes.”
“Questionable? You? Don’t be ridiculous!” Rachel motioned behind her toward the carriage. “Mr. Childers is a troublemaker, that is all. I would like to believe I can discern the difference between his troublesome tales and your truths.”
Robert crossed his arms and glared at the carriage.
“La! Robert, let him have his fun. Only dedicate yourself to giving it back to him, instead of forcing me to carry the brunt of the weight myself. I’ll exhaust myself, and I don’t wish to have him hate me.”
One side of Robert’s lips twitched upward before he focused on her. Then he gave a shake of his head and a soft chuckle. “Good night,” he mumbled, rubbing at his neck. “The wart knows me too well.”
Rachel smirked. “Apparently so. For that alone he deserves a prank, making mischief when we’ve not yet fully recovered from the confessions of last evening. Believe me when I say that you returning to him a taste of what he’s giving you won’t shock me in the least. It will be rather fun to relive this part of your boyhood.”
Robert gently pinched her nose, causing an unexpected wave of timidity. “Very well, Miss Samson. No holds barred. I’m afraid Damon won’t know what hit him.”
Forcing the timidity aside, Rachel curtly nodded. “Good for you. Now, come back to the carriage and leave this other self of yours here where it belongs. He seems to be ruining our fun.”
Robert lifted her held hand to his lips, then the palm and wrist. “Only because you wish it,” he whispered against her skin.
Rachel’s face flushed, the burning within making her lower her gaze.
Then Robert cleared his throat and released her hand to offer his arm. “I find myself wishing for a moment alone,” he admitted, voice low.
Accepting his arm, Rachel cast a sidelong glance before lifting her fan to conceal her expression, save that of her eyes. For the more time she spent with this man, the more she craved the companionship and the sharing and the trust. The more she desired the expression in his eyes. The more she longed for a simple touch of hand against hand and lips against lips…
He reached around to cover her hand with his, eyes taking in the expression of her face and the curls at her ears and temple before pausing on her lips. “My God, how beautiful you are when you gaze at me with emerald and jade.”
Rachel’s lips twitched, and she looked away.
When they arrived back at the carriage, Damon watched their reentry into the with a purely conceited smirk. “I see you have poor old Rob wrapped around your little finger, Miss Samson.”
Robert adjusted the rug over Rachel’s lap before tapping the roof. The carriage pitched to a start. “It’s such a nice place to be, Damon. Surely you’ve wished to have such a delicate finger of your own?”
Rachel smiled, hiding it behind her fan.
“Not particularly,” Damon said, yawning.
“I see we’ve bored him, Robert. We had best change the subject.”
Robert shook his head. “I think we should stay just where we are. Damon’s less dangerous when bored.”
“Very well. Allow me to make conversation, then.”
Robert again took hold of her hand under the rug. “By all means.”
“Mr. Childers--”
“Call me Damon.”
Rachel smirked. “Very well. Damon, what exactly do you look for in women? Perhaps I know of someone that meets your… tastes.” Though she couldn’t remember if Maggie had ever been interested in flirtatious upstarts with more jokes than seriousness.
“Don’t bother your pretty head about finding me a match, Ra--” Robert cleared his throat and intercepted Damon’s sidelong glance with a meaningful frown. Damon’s lips twitched at one side before he corrected himself with a smooth flow of “Miss Samson, there isn’t a woman alive who would have me. Too many faults, you see? I enjoy a good joke, a good time, and a bit too many other things.”
Rachel focused on Robert in mock horror. “How in heaven’s name did you stay so pure, Robert Leonard Trent, with an influence such as this?”
“Pure? Him? Don’t be daft.”
Focusing an arched eyebrow on Robert’s friend, Rachel said “If you refer to his temper, I’ve had a glimpse now and again. It’s nothing more than what I myself have displayed. If you refer to his flippant sense of humor, do you forget my own display but a few minutes prior?” Rachel focused on Robert to intercept his soft smile and gorgeous gaze of brown. “I’m fully aware he isn’t pure of heart and mind, for neither am I. What use would I have for someone like that?”
Robert touched her nose with a finger. “So speaks the angel in acceptance of her mortal champion.”
“Ugh. I believe I will be sick at any moment.”
Chuckling, Rachel once more turned toward Robert’s friend. “You protest too much, Damon. Believe me, I know all too well.”
“I suppose you’ve just the person in mind for me.”
“Perhaps.”
Damon raised an eyebrow this time. “You do?”
“Don’t sound so eager, Damon,” Robert chided, laughing. “You give yourself away.”
Damon cleared his throat. “Eager? Me? That was horror, Rob. Surely you recognize the difference.”
Rachel and Robert shared a laugh.
Fifteen
Secondary Confessions
Robert couldn’t read Rachel’s expressions and attitude over breakfast, which they took at one of the more prestigious restaurants of Richmond. The continued small and calm smile that heightened the loveliness of her delicate features didn’t fade as she sat beside him, listening with polite attention as Damon re-iterated those childhood stories already confessed in his letters to her, but with more flair.
As only Damon could do.
Damon enjoyed the attention, that stood to reason, and talked throughout breakfast and coffee afterward. Rachel said hardly a word, and she only occasionally shifted her calm gaze fro
m Damon to himself, and that for but a moment. The attitude intrigued him, to say the least, and had him sitting back in his chair wordlessly examining her while absently nibbling the end of his father’s pipe.
A mystery, Lord. This woman never ceases to be a mystery. A delight. An adventure. He adjusted the pipe. Yet there has seldom been a test to my temper and patience. To my patience in displays of affection, yes, but not in patience of her person. If this is Your blessing to encourage our deep friendship and bond, I appreciate it. Yet it has me concerned. Never have I known a couple to not test the limits of one’s temperament. Have we simply not journeyed through to that challenge? Is that the next struggle?
Rachel cast him a sidelong glance, lowering the cup from her lips to allow him the hint of a smirk. He returned it. What are you hiding of yourself, Rachel? What facet is waiting my discovery. And the thought of the journal waiting patiently on his night-stand brought a different smile to his face. One that heightened the entrancing expression within her eyes and the slight flush of her cheeks moments before she looked away.
A romantic young lady of extreme sensitivity and insight to the workings of a soul. Robert released a soft breath. That had been what he had read within the poems and prose within her journal. A young lady close in her relationship with God and family, using that love of family to bless the children at the orphanage, the children of her church, the children of her father’s guests… All written with an air of timidity and yet a soft determination of purpose.
Which pained Robert now, knowing how that softness and timidity had been so horribly twisted into a determination and aggression that served to protect a delicate heart. Robert lowered his gaze to the pipe held absently between his fingers. Her father could have trusted me with the training of the Board, Lord, leaving her to the delicate and diplomatic task of hostess and support. Her sensitivity and softness would have been a blessing in that role. So why did he send her away? Why the harshness? The training? The example against her delicate femininity? Why hurt her so deeply?
Broken Angel Page 32