“Robert, you needn’t ask him to be a groomsman simply on my account.”
“Nonsense. I told you he seemed a likeable fellow and I’ve since met him under better circumstances, keeping my raging ego and jealousy under control of course.” He winked. “Since you’re marrying me, I think it’s safe to assume he isn’t a rival to your affections.”
“I see.” Rachel slowly lowered her gaze and jotted down the names.
“Here now, Angel, don’t say it like that,” Robert protested as he sat up. “You make me think I’ve got it all wrong and Richards is to be your ‘on the side’.”
Rachel raised her gaze and asked, “Do you have another friend for groomsmen? I’d like to have a total of three pairs.”
“Joseph Anderson,” he said almost absently, watching her face with a thoughtful expression that very mildly twinkled.
She wrote the name. “All right. Margaret Kelley. Lucy Bond–”
“Lucy Bond?” Robert asked, blinking. “You know Lucinda Bond?”
An eyebrow arched as she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yes. She and I schooled abroad together. Why? Do you know her?”
Robert smirked. “Everyone knows of the New York Bonds, Rachel. They might not be old money, but they have a lot of it as well as a lot of power in the right places. Especially in Congress.” He leaned back into the chair while motioning to her with his pipe. “It’s refreshing to know you won’t be marrying me for power and influence. You’ve a bit of your own.”
Rachel’s lips twitched and she focused again on the list of names… and drew a blank. “Blast.”
“What’s wrong?”
Rachel scowled as she angrily tapped her pencil against the table. “I haven’t a third.”
“A third?”
“Name. A third name, Robert, for heaven sake,” she said a bit harshly. Rachel immediately pressed her lips together, tossing down the pencil to delicately cross her arms and say, “I apologize.”
His lips twitched as he waved it aside. “I don’t mind a snap or two. We’ve had a full day and we’re tired.” Robert motioned to the paper. “Why don’t we have two pairs rather than three. I rather doubt Joe will be available. He travels a great deal.”
Rubbing at her forehead with a single finger, Rachel released a deep breath. “Very well.”
She heard a shift and shuffle and looked up in time to see Robert moving to sit on the table directly across from her. He took her hand into his and gave it a gentle pressure while smiling down at her. “Two will be just as wonderful as three, Rachel.”
A tight-lipped smile was her response as she retrieved her hand from his and leaned slightly back. Robert received the action with a slowly vanishing smile and then a clearing of his throat as he looked away, lightly pounding his now balled fists onto his knees. Rachel almost cringed as she looked down.
“Ah. Look at the time. I had best not stay for dinner. Not with these other letters to write. I’m liable to forget.” He stood, immediately drawing her gaze again. “Would you walk me out?” he asked quietly.
Rachel released a deep breath and nodded as she stood, accepting his motion for her to precede him from the room. In the hallway, he didn’t offer her his arm, nor do anything save steady her step down the stairs with a simple yet light touch at the elbow. Rachel! Continue to poke and prod and play with his emotions and you’ll find him to be enemy rather than ally!
At the door, Robert opened it a small way before turning to face her. He offered her a soft and genuine smile. “Today was immensely enjoyable, Rachel. Thank you for involving me.”
A pang of guilt lifted her hand to his arm as he turned to leave. He immediately halted and faced her. “Robert…”
His smile softened as he covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle pressure. “I understand, Rachel. I do.”
“How can you understand when even I do not?” She pulled her hand from under his, motioning outside. “In the carriage and at the shops I flirt and accept your advances, even admitting to the intrigue at a possible second kiss and my reaction. Why do I now push you away with coldness and… and…” Rachel scoffed and crossed her arms, scowling.
“Rachel, you admitted yourself that you haven’t ever encouraged attentions. It’s that suspicion and caution we attempt to work through now, building a friendship into something more.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she pressed, and the confession elicited a blink and a step back.
Robert’s soft smile didn’t change. “I appreciate that, but relationships are a balance of hurt and joy. One of us will likely hurt the other more than once in our relationship. The challenge is to recognize that, apologize, forgive, and use it to make the relationship stronger.”
She regarded him for a long and silent moment before admitting, “I don’t understand how a man such as yourself could stumble upon me.”
The boyish smile replaced the soft one as he stepped forward and lightly gathered her hands into his. “Divine intervention, Angel. Divine intervention.” He lightly touched each hand to his lips before doing the same to each cheek. “Good night, Rachel. Sleep well.”
“Good night,” she bid absently, watching him exit the door with a last wink her direction.
Then the door had closed and she could hear him whistling down the walk, refusing the carriage with his velvet baritone and continuing down the walk toward his hotel. Rachel absently turned, eyes blankly staring up at the second story stairs as she began to realize she no longer dreaded tomorrow.
Thirteen
Summoning Angel
“Telegram for Mr. Robert Trent,” came a muffled voice.
Robert set the Bible aside onto the coffee table within the main sitting room of his apartment at the hotel and stood to move toward the door. Upon opening it, he signed for the telegram, tipped the porter, and absently closed the door while reading it.
“Drat.”
Robert balled the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket by the front door, a frown darkening his expression. The telegram had simply read: ‘Return. Stop. Now. Stop.’
~~~
Rachel read over the final draft of the intended articles for the newspaper announcement of her engagement, a finger absently tapping her lips as her father’s secretary waited for her verdict. Mr. Theodore Johansson was a tall and slender man with gray hair and eyes whom had been working for her father since before she could remember. He was highly experienced at his job, and she didn’t remember ever hearing her father complain of him.
“Nicely done,” Rachel complimented, returning the draft to him as she met with him in the dining nook. “See that it is published appropriately in as little time as possible. I want the article published before the invitations are sent for the ball, and those are due to be sent this afternoon, as the party is the weekend after next.”
Mr. Johansson received the paper and nodded, tucking it into his business attaché case before standing and giving her a slight bow. “Yes, Miss.”
“Also, I will be having you begin to meet with Mr. Trent on the situation we discussed before.”
“The law practice?”
“Yes. I haven’t discussed it with him again, but I will do so today and discover whether he would like details to be organized before or after our return from our wedding holiday. If you could make a list of possible staff suggestions, that would likely relieve you of stress and difficulty either way.”
Mr. Johansson nodded again. “Yes, Miss. I have already done so, since our last discussion.”
Rachel smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Johansson. You may go.”
He bowed and left the room, leaving Rachel to focus on her untouched light breakfast of fruit. Mr. Thorne had not arrived yesterday as expected. In the evening over a silent dinner between her father and herself, a note had been sent from the hotel stating he had only just arrived, due to an unforeseen incident while traveling, and would be calling after breakfast to begin the fittings.
I sincerely hope Robert appears this mo
rning to alleviate my boredom. With his wardrobe now finalized, the articles ready for publication, the invitations addressed and prepared for mailing, Rachel couldn’t think of anything more that would need to take their attention from a further exploration of the other. Until, of course, the wedding drew closer. Then there would be the finalizing of reception invitations, locations of receptions and wedding ceremony alike, seating arrangements for those, rehearsals, et cetera, et cetera. Rachel reasoned they had at least two or three weeks before arrangements would need to begin for the ceremony, and a portion of that would be taken by the Announcement Luncheon/Party.
“Miss Rachel?”
Rachel looked up as Oliver entered the dining nook. “Yes?”
“Mr. Trent needs to speak with you rather quickly. He waits outside by a carriage.”
“A carriage?” Rachel repeated as she stood. “Thank you, Oliver.”
Oliver nodded and disappeared into the kitchen as Rachel exited the nook and made her way down the front hall to the entrance and then outside. As Oliver had said, Robert stood by a waiting carriage looking very irritated and annoyed. When she noticed packed trunks on the luggage rack atop the carriage, Rachel arched an eyebrow.
Robert focused on her and smiled, immediately stepping forward to take her hands into his and bestow a soft kiss on each cheek. “Good morning, Rachel,” he greeted softly, giving her hands a gentle pressure.
“Robert.” She pulled her hands from his and stepped back, doing her best to steel herself against the welcome warmth his touch and attention brought while the luggage rack on the carriage only vaguely drew her notice. “You needed to speak with me?”
Robert’s eyebrow twitched. Then he looked over his shoulder to the carriage. “Ah. Yes. The tell-tale sign of trunks and luggage.” He focused again on her. “Father hasn’t been as accepting of my decision to be prematurely independent as I had hoped. I’ve been summoned.”
“Summoned?” A slight flare of irritation rose, mixing quickly with the chill of concern. “Now. But what of the Announcement Party!”
“I’ll make certain to return in time, Rachel.” His expression softened as he slowly retrieved his dark charcoal hat from his head to absently turn it within his hands. “I promised the children to persuade you to have a luncheon. Remember?”
Rachel regarded him for a moment, her mind processing the travel time and the possibilities… “I’ll go with you.”
Robert blinked and dropped his hat. “Pardon?”
“I’ll go with you,” she repeated. “Perhaps if I explain my circumstances, he won’t deal so harshly with you.”
Robert suddenly chuckled. “Rachel, Rachel. I’ll be fine. You’ve too many responsibilities here to run away with me to Virginia.”
“Nonsense. Responsibilities can be rearranged and set aside until later. Wait here and I will–”
“Rachel,” Robert interrupted, smiling, “while I appreciate the offer, I don’t believe that would help matters one way or the other.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if you believe it will or not. I don’t intend to leave you alone to your father’s possible wrath when I stand at the base of it.”
“You don’t ‘stand at the base of’ anything, Angel. I made my own decision, therefore I’m destined to take the chastisement due me. You stay here and have your fittings and your tea parties and I’ll go there and be yelled at and lectured.”
Rachel scoffed. “Fittings and tea parties? I’d rather be yelled at.”
Laughing, Robert bent to retrieve his hat from the sidewalk. “Yes, well, I believe I would rather be at your particular version of a tea party, but such isn’t an option.”
“Neither is my remaining behind while you journey to Virginia,” Rachel informed, turning away. “Driver, you leave without my presence and I will have you dismissed.”
“Here, here,” Robert protested as he hurried after her. “Rachel, you can’t make idle threats such as those. You’ll ruin your reputation.”
Rachel opened the front door, Robert continuing after her, and called “Maggie, pack the barest necessities immediately. I’m leaving with Robert to Charlottesville.” Maggie appeared from, and then disappeared back to, Rachel’s room. “Oliver, contact Mr. Thorne at the hotel and have him meet with Mr. Belding to obtain my measurements and wishes for my trousseau. Final preparations will wait until I return.” Oliver bowed, he had appeared from the back hall, and then turned and disappeared again.
“Rachel,” Robert protested again, coming to stand beside her. She focused on him. “This is preposterous. Why should you put the house into an uproar for such a short trip?”
“Because I refuse to leave you to a responsibility we share.”
“But he’s my father.”
“And he’s to be my father-in-law,” Rachel responded, retrieving her overcoat. She focused her attention on Maggie as she hurried down the stairs with hat and gloves in hand. “I won’t take the time to change into my traveling habit, Maggie. We will need to see to the duty once we’re on the train.”
Maggie nodded, motioning behind to the sound of a commotion coming from Rachel’s room. “Sarah is packing a valise with a habit and a few amenities while the others are readying a single trunk. The trunk will be sent ahead to Charlottesville. Here’s your hat and gloves.”
Rachel accepted them and then gestured to the second floor. “You’d best get your things, Mags. We need to leave immediately.”
Maggie nodded, smiling as she turned away and hurried back upstairs. “I know. I already have planned what I’m bringing. I’ll be right down.”
Robert gripped her upper arm. “Rachel, you can’t be serious.”
“I am very serious,” Rachel responded, focusing her determined green eyes on his shocked expression of chocolate brown. “We’ve made a pact and an agreement, you’ve accepted my favor and I’ve accepted your advances. Henceforth, we are partners and I refuse to allow you to face challenges alone when I am involved in them.”
Robert opened his mouth to object again, but Rachel lifted a hand and pressed a single finger against his lips. He blinked in surprise.
“I am going, Robert, and that is the end of it.”
Robert held her gaze and then smiled, enfolding her hand with his and kissing the palm. “All right. You’re going.”
One side of her lips twitched upward as she retrieved her hand from his grasp and slipped into her gloves. “You should choose your battles more carefully. If your heart isn’t in it, let it pass.”
“Yes, dear.”
Rachel softly chuckled, adjusting her gloves upon her hands as Maggie appeared yet again with a valise in each hand. “All right, then. We’re off.”
Robert offered his arm, which Rachel accepted, and escorted her outside and to the carriage. “What of your father?”
“I imagine he will be appearing any moment to inquire after the commotio–”
“What in blazes is going on out here?”
Robert smirked. “Ah.”
Rachel and Robert stopped and turned at the front entry. Maggie continued past to open the door and slip outside.
“Robert and I are leaving to Charlottesville, Father. It seems that his father has requested his immediate return.”
Henry Samson gripped the railing of the second floor balcony as he glowered down at them. “You’re what?”
“We’re leaving to Charlottesville. Do not worry. We plan on a return before the Announcement Party weekend after next. If such isn’t the case, then I shall contact the papers with notification of the postponement,” Rachel informed, calm.
Henry’s face reddened. “Rachel…”
“Maggie will be journeying with us as chaperone, Father, and I shall arrange separate cars for sleeping arrangements. Mr. Thorne has been contacted regarding the fittings, and I shall finalize those once I return.” Rachel focused on Robert, who had been watching her with a lopsided smile. “When is the train due to depart?”
Robert checked his timepi
ece. “If we leave now at a fast clip, we’ll just make it.”
Rachel briefly nodded and focused again on her father, who continued to tightly grip the railing. “Good morning, Father. I will inform you of my safe arrival. Robert.”
The pair exited the house. Henry pounded a fist onto the railing and swore.
~~~
“This scene seems so vaguely familiar.”
Rachel smiled as she lowered herself onto the couch of the train coach, reserved courtesy of the Trent family in Virginia, and watched Robert again seat himself in the chair across from her. Maggie positioned herself to Rachel’s right and immediately drew out her ‘project box’ that generally held projects of mending and some type of needle work.
“Although I believe you wore a habit of green rather than the blue you do now,” Robert finished.
“Oh?” Rachel opened her fan as she regarded him, only very slightly allowing a smirk to soften her expression. “I don’t recall much of that journey.” Other than the laughter and the extreme enjoyment of the company of a gentleman.
“Truly? I had thought I impressed more than that.”
“Did I say you did not?”
Robert regarded her for a silent moment before giving a boyish smile. “I see. You don’t recall the journey itself.”
Her lips twitched.
His expression softened to a different smile. Then, to Rachel’s mild surprise and delight, he softly said “I didn’t want to leave you behind so soon, Ange,” in French.
Maggie didn’t look up from her work. She only sounded a soft sigh while her lips twitched upward.
“Then why did you protest so strongly?” Rachel reminded, and it felt glorious to converse in French again.
“Mostly due to the shock that you would so quickly suggest it.” Robert retrieved his pipe and began tapping the chamber into his palm, still smiling. “I myself had been doing my best to keep my mind from how best to persuade you.”
Broken Angel Page 27