Twelve

Engagements

“Lunch is served, Miss Rachel,” Oliver reported as Rachel reached the bottom of the stairs. Dressed in a traveling habit of navy blue, there was definite purpose in her graceful descent.

“I’m sorry, Oliver, but I won’t be dining here until this evening. Set it aside and I will eat it cold when I return.” Rachel fully faced the elderly butler, who stared down at her in mild surprise. Rachel’s seriousness of expression and tone continued as she informed, “I’m on my way to town to make arrangements for the announcement of Mr. Trent and my engagement and impending nuptials. Please have the men search the attic for my hope chest. I believe it is in the northeast corner. Also, have Maggie search out my mother’s wedding dress and gauge the damage and need for repair. If she must send it out to our tailor, by all means have it done.”

Rachel turned away long enough to take up her gloves and hat. Oliver mutely stared on. “Please have Cook begin to list different options for possible reception dinners - the wedding will be in three months, I understand - and have Louisa begin planning the decorations for the announcement party, the wedding, and the reception. Nothing too dramatic, yet sophisticated enough to show that the Samson’s understand how to design an affair of this magnitude.”

The hat was placed and secured while Rachel continued to direct. “Oh. Contact the local papers via messenger and have them contact me as soon as possible to arrange interviews. If asked, inform them I plan to arrange a single interview time for all. If they don’t work with me on the scheduling of it, they simply won’t be allowed to participate. Also, warn them that the final draft of the interview will be approved by me before being submitted to press--”

The front door opened then, drawing Rachel and Oliver’s gazes as Robert Trent peeked his head around with the same boyish expression of curiosity and hesitancy as before. He met her gaze and offered her a smile as he straightened and closed the door behind him.

“Robert,” she said before he could greet her, “perfect timing. I need you to come with me to choose the decorations for the invitations to the Announcement Party as well as to the wedding itself. Then we had best secure you a suit. If we’ve the time, we’ll need to stop by the jeweler’s and decide upon the ring. At school a friend mentioned a supposedly romantic idea of having a set exchanged rather than a single band given. I would like this to be performed at the ceremony. Dinner will be here this evening once we’ve secured the set. We can decide upon ushers and groomsmen over our meal. I’ll be sure to have Maggie there for notes.”

Rachel turned back to Oliver, missing Robert’s collection of amazed blinks. She slipped into her gloves. “Leave the dinner plans on my desk in my room. I will look over them later. Have Louisa report to me tomorrow morning over breakfast to discuss details on decorations and needed supplies. Oh. See if you can determine the exact arrival date and time of Mr. Thadius Thorne for my trousseau. I’m of the mind three months won’t be enough time. I might need to instruct him to work with Mr. Belding in town.”

“Yes, Miss. Of course,” Oliver finally said.

Rachel smiled and then faced Robert, whose expression seemed a bit… odd. Hm. She took his arm and then guided him out the front door. “If the friend you mentioned before has any desire to participate, you should have him come as soon as he is able. I will need to have him and the other groomsmen we decide upon meet the bridesmaids so that they will be more at ease when doing their part. Also, you will need to contact your parents and inquire whether or not they want to be involved with the planning of the reception. I wouldn’t want them to take offense. In either case, they will more than likely wish to be here for the Announcement Party. I will try to arrange it with enough time for them to come down from Virginia--”

Rachel’s voice and step both halted when she finally noticed Robert’s expression of mild shock and confusion. He almost seemed dazed.

“What’s the matter?” she pressed.

“I… er…” Robert cleared his throat and looked down at his hat he held in his hands before again meeting her gaze. “Rachel, isn’t this premature?”

“Premature? How so? Father has no intention of delaying the pre-determined date for the nuptials, and I’ve no wish to be caught unprepared.”

“Rachel, we’ve only kn--”

“Of course I realize that,” she acknowledged, tone surprisingly patient, “but what choice do we have?”

“An announcement of our own in our time,” Robert insisted. “What can he do when he knows I’ve wealth enough to support you no matter my father’s decision? Besides, he doesn’t have another heir to his place on the Board. Much as he would hate to admit it, it limits his actions for retaliation.”

“I appreciate the thought, Robert, but Father has suspended the meetings of the Board until after the wedding holiday, allowing two months for that. I’d rather not put too much burden on the financial stability of the business than what Father deems necessary, much as I hate to admit he is in more of a place to know feasibility than I myself. Surely three months is time enough to become familiar with each other. Goodness knows I’ve heard horror stories of ladies knowing their intended for longer than that and still being miserable after their wedding.”

Robert released a deep breath, still worrying his hat in his hands as he held her gaze. “I don’t like this, Rachel. I feel rushed into something that is more important than society’s view of it. Marriage is for a lifetime, and I’d rather not step into it with you not knowing whether or not you can rely on me as ‘partner’ and ‘friend’ in addition to the role of ‘husband’.”

“Again, I appreciate the consideration, but I truly believe allowing the marriage to happen by Father’s schedule is best for the business.”

“But I don’t care about what’s best for the business, Rachel.”

She blinked at him.

He cleared his throat. “Rachel, I care for what’s best for you and for us first and foremost. Of course I’ll do my utmost to continue the stability of your legacy once we’ve married, but I won’t sacrifice our relationship for it. Now or later.”

The expression of soft insistence in voice and eyes pressed against the numbness that bolstered her calm and fed her determination. Deference to her choice. Care of their relationship rather than the priority of business…

Rachel turned away and continued toward the carriage, Robert falling into step beside her. “I’m sorry, Robert, but the answer is ‘no’. You may, of course, approach Father with the same request, but I highly doubt he will relent his date. He seems to be adamant of reminding me that he’s had this future planned for me without my knowledge. That and he dislikes you more even than Todd.”

“Three more months before the wedding, Rachel. That’s all I ask.”

“I told you. I would rather not risk it.” She accepted his help into the carriage, giving a surprised blink when he moved to sit beside her and lean close, expression still gently insistent. Her gaze met and held his.

“Rachel, please,” Robert said in a gentle yet pressing voice. He took her hand in his. “Don’t let your father manipulate you into cutting short this time. We need it.”

Rachel pressed him back and retrieved her hand from his, amazed when his continued insistence didn’t incite her temper. “Normally, I would agree with you, but the time we have is three months. Then the wedding holiday, which is another subject we will need to broach over dinner, and then our life together.” Rachel faced ahead and absently opened her fan to tease the air near her face. “I’m certain it will be time enough.”

Dreams and fantasies of romantic courtships and long and wonderful engagements had long since been replaced by business plans and thoughts of profit margins. Three months would be enough time to confess and admit what drove each of them. If not, as he said, marriage was a lifetime investment.

Robert released a quick breath and sat back to scrub at his scalp with one hand and shove his other deep into his beige trouser pocket. “I announced an intention to court to prevent the forced wedding, Rachel. Not impose my person upon you in place of a milk-toast.”

Rachel smirked, hiding the smile with a slight lift of fan as she sent his amazingly handsome and strong profile a sidelong glance. “It wasn’t an imposition,” she countered. “In fact, if memory serves, I invited you to visit. You simply accepted.”

A chuckle sounded, giving rise to a surprising tingle, and then Robert stretched his long legs out in front of him while tucking his other hand into his pocket. “Yes, I suppose it did happen that way. Didn’t it?” He sent her a wink. “Be sure to tell my father this was your idea. He might just believe you and take me back.”

“Do you want to be taken back?”

Robert’s gaze focused ahead as he pursed his lips to one side in consideration. “Hm. Good question. Stay within the clutches of the Samson family power or be taken back by my father to be constantly treated as if I were in a constant state of ‘twelve-years-old’.”

Rachel laughed. “Oh for goodness sake, Robert. I doubt it’s as bad as that.”

“Oh? Then why do you always suppose your father sees you as the same adorable and mischievous fourteen-year-old that traveled abroad?”

Rachel’s smile vanished as she looked at him in stricken shock.

The impish smirk disappeared as he paled. “Rachel, I’m sorry,” he said, voice rushed.

Rachel looked away, blind gaze staring outside as she clenched her now closed fan in white-knuckled hands. “Touché,” she said blandly.

Robert glanced heavenward with an expression of ‘Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?’ and a slight lift of his hands before looking again toward Rachel and adjusting his position more toward her. “Rachel, I apologize for that. It was uncalled for.”

“It was the truth as you saw it,” she reminded, thoughts and tone both distant.

“Truths shouldn’t always be spoken aloud.”

Rachel lifted her shoulders, still feeling his scrutiny though she felt nothing else.

Finally, he sighed deep and faced forward, adjusting his hands within his trouser pockets as he again stretched his legs in front of him. “Well, so much for a romantic carriage ride with the laughing Miss Rachel Samson, old man. Must you always be so blasted free with your words?” he grumbled. “Damon would be rolling on the floor laughing hard enough to wake the dead, as rightly he should. You’re about as graceful as a blind bull at a tea party.”

Much as Rachel fought it back, the silence within was nudged aside for a slight quirk of lip and a bit of an arched eyebrow. She adjusted her hold on her fan.

“Why don’t you further insult her by referencing the flowers in her hat and whether or not she mills her own?” he groused.

Rachel felt his sidelong glance but didn’t relinquish another hint of the amusement that threatened.

“Better yet, kowtow and agree with her father every blessed minute of the day and be done with the entire relationship altogether.” Robert scoffed. “I’d sooner agree to wear a corset.”

That drew a laugh and her attention as she smacked his arm with her fan, freeing his own laughter as he flinched away from the strike, withdrawing his right hand from his pocket in the process.

Rachel froze and arched an eyebrow at the appearance of the burgundy velveteen box within his grasp. “What is that?”

Robert flushed as he shoved the box back into his trouser pocket. “Nothing.”

“It’s a jeweler’s box.” She tugged at his arm to free his hand from his pocket. He resisted, face growing even more red. “For heaven sake. Why are you so embarrassed by having a jeweler’s box in your pocket? Pull it free and let’s have a look.”

“Rachel, stop,” he protested. “This is entirely the wrong place.”

“Wrong place for what?” she asked, still attempting to pull his resisting hand free from his pocket.

Robert let out a quick breath and finally retrieved his hand. “Oh all right.” He offered forward the box. “But I’m still insisting this is both the wrong place and the wrong time.”

Rachel accepted the box and opened– She gasped, finding the shining brightness of the most beautiful ring ever seen. Miniature diamonds set upon a band of pale gold surrounded a small, heart-shaped ruby. The ruby seemed on fire in the sunlight and the diamonds reminded Rachel of delicate tears yet unshed.

“La,” she whispered as she retrieved the ring from within. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Rachel looked up, but his gaze focused ahead. To her surprise, his jaw muscle twitched. “Was it your mother’s?”

He shook his head.

“Grandmother’s?”

Again, he shook his head, but this time he sent her a quick glance and a softly spoken, “No.”

Then Robert lowered his gaze to the ring within her fingers before almost hesitantly reaching forward to retrieve it. The expression on his face as he examined it was different than any she’d seen before; almost wistful. If Rachel hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it. Then Robert took her hand and slipped the ring onto her middle finger, voicing a hushed “Finally,” that caused a tingle brighter and more powerful than any others.

Rachel arched an eyebrow as she continued to examine his face. After a moment, he seemed to force himself to meet her gaze. “Whomever did you have create this for you?” she asked. “It’s a wonder in craftsmanship and design.”

The red of Robert’s ears darkened, if possible, and his hold on her hand briefly tightened. “A friend of the family crafted it.”

“And the design?” She lowered her gaze to the ring again, this time pulling her hand from his to delicately move her finger and hand within the light of the morning sun. It danced within the gems. “Never have I seen a ring so lovely. Look. The ruby seems to be on fire - my birth-stone, did you know? - and the heart shape is quite the romantic statement for an engagement ring. And the small diamonds within the band? They look very much like tears. I wonder if they are of joy or sorrow?”

Robert smiled as he watched her enjoy the ring. “Both,” he admitted softly. Rachel focused on him, and he looked away with a seemingly embarrassed clearing of his throat. “I designed it.”

Rachel blinked. “You?” Then she laughed, looking again to the ring. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. But how on earth did you know my ring size?”

“I used my mother’s.” He reached out to take her hand yet again, gently twirling the ring on her finger as he smiled down at it. “She and I were always close. She helped me through many rough times.” Robert met Rachel’s curious gaze and smiled. “It seemed appropriate. You remind me of her.”

Rachel regarded him with that same curious expression before reaching up with her free hand to touch his face-- Rachel! She pulled back before contact was made and lowered her gaze to the ring, retrieving her hand from his grasp as she leaned slightly away from him. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence before he quietly said, “I’m glad you like it.”

Rachel wiggled her fingers in the light, again causing the dance of sun within the gem. “But why on earth do you have an engagement ring in your pocket?” She forced herself to look toward his profile. “Certainly you didn’t intend to propose today over lunch?”

“No. I…” Robert cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, I’ve… I’ve had that box in my pocket since I was sixteen.”

“What?”

Again Robert cleared his throat, sending her a sidelong glance. “I told you, I’ve known I was to marry since I can remember. That became my reminder to pray for her and myself.”

“But sixteen? Robert, that’s unheard of.”

Robert smirked. “I’m not as old as that.”

“Robert, don’t make light. Such a showing of responsibility, I…” Rachel lowered her gaze to the ring. To be entrusted with it seemed so much more than a simple act of engagement.

His hand covered hers, causing a twitch and a sharp movement of focus to his face. He smiled and gently enfolded her hand. “Thank you for finally allowing it an escape,” he said softly, his breath teasing a loose curl at her forehead.

An escape. Hadn’t he provided the same? An escape from a cold future in a house surrounded by the reminders of a child she would never be. An escape from someone she had come to hate and fear… herself.

“To be honest,” he continued, voice still as soft as before, “I had come to dread the moment I would present it to my betrothed.” Robert leaned a little closer, his thumb softly stroking the skin of her hand to the rhythm of her heart and her breathing. “I didn’t believe she would measure up to my dream of her.”

That confession caused a shift within and a tingle without as she could only stare into his brown eyes while wondering what came next. She rode alone in a carriage with a man who had confessed attraction and a desire to kiss. Now that he admitted he had dreaded a previous betrothal while at the same time expressing thanks at wearing his ring… she found herself only able to stare and analyze the expression in his eyes and the reaction it caused while somewhat coldly wondering what it would feel like for him to kiss her.

Robert released a soft sigh before touching her lips with his, quieting the questions while feeding them at the same time. When he kissed her softly again, her mind rejected what her heart so greedily clung to. Acceptance. Gentleness. Being handled with care and quiet. Treated as a woman and yet not feeling as if she were minimized because of it.

Then he raised his head, eyes showing that emotion she didn’t recognize. He smiled - he always smiled - and Rachel felt a slight change deep within as he brought first one wrist and then the other to his lips, his gaze still holding hers. Rachel lowered her scrutiny to her hands he held. She could still feel his lips upon her wrists; the softness of the touch and the moving it caused… She had never been kissed in such a tender and yet intense fashion. Not even when Todd had given her the very first one. Neither had she been so… moved by something that seemed as if it should have been so simple.

Another soft sigh was heard as Robert continued to hold and caress her hands. “Did I risk too much?”

Rachel looked up to meet his gaze, and she couldn’t help but notice another change. A slip. A shuffle and tumble. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt it there. It seemed almost an invitation to something else-- Rachel accepted its invitation and leaned forward to retrieve another kiss from his lips, the warmth of them… welcoming hers and making it easy to ignore the shudder and groan of the wall she had taken so much care in building.

Robert’s hands released hers to hold and caress her face as he accepted her touch and returned another, speaking to that portion of her that had no power. No strength… Rachel could only sit still and silent as the warmth attempted to burn through the numbness. Like a candle through a glacier, melting to the response that waited beyond. The response that hesitantly and cautiously ventured forward at a third caress of his lips upon hers. The response that sparked something to life. The response that caused her lips to hesitantly move in a soft and gentle caress against his.

Then Robert very slowly drew his lips away, hands still cupping her face as she slowly opened her eyes. He smoothed her cheeks with his thumbs, his lips tilted upward in a soft smile as he somewhat gruffly said, “And the Angel had mercy on this mere mortal.” Then he relinquished his tender hold of her face to a secondary gathering of hands and palms to lips.

His focus lowered to the action, leaving Rachel to watch, silent and oddly entranced by this… this beautiful man and his action of wooing her. Examining her inner reaction and the warmth and the intensity of… something so very deep within that the prospect of revealing it burned almost terrifying.

“Look away,” Robert pleaded suddenly in an oddly moving whisper, “lest I be lost within the depth of emerald eyes.”

Rachel blinked, a shift unlike anything before causing a slight jolt. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, cheeks flushing.

A soft smile tilted his lips upward as his thumbs continued their caress of her wrists or palms. “And for what do you need to apologize? For being entrancing and desirable?” Robert finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. “For trusting me when I don’t trust myself?”

The continued stroke against her wrists caused a deeper struggle, a spark beginning within and fanning outward. Warmth pressing aside the cold calm. Attraction forcing aside the numbness with such power that Rachel swallowed hard in an attempt to return it.

“And why would you not?” she asked, fighting with the desire to free her hand with the coming of the realization that she enjoyed his touch.

Robert smirked. “That subject will need to be saved for a later time,” he admitted. Then he leaned back away from her, tucking her hands into her lap before submerging his deep into his pockets. “Instead, I will count my blessings that you haven’t taken offense at my forward nature. Father would be horrified.”

Yet the forward action intrigued Rachel. Intrigued her into wanting to know what came next in a relationship such as she never had. Different even than the close friendship she had shared with Todd. An outward attraction. An inner interest. A confessed desire and then the desire acted upon. Risks taken and… enjoyed.

Robert sent her a sidelong glance, his eyes momentarily meeting her gaze. “It seems the Angel seeks to understand the mortal.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow, her fan beginning an almost absent motion that teased the hair at her temples. Do I? Or did she seek to understand her own reactions?

His smile widened a bit as he rested his head back against the velvet seat and fully looked over at her. “Does the Angel have a question?”

“Why did you kiss me?” The unexpected question brought a blink and a slight pause of her fan’s motion.

Robert chuckled, but he didn’t look away from her face or her eyes. “Because the moment fairly screamed for it. Because I’ve been wanting to do so since I can remember. Because now was the first free moment without prying eyes that would tattle the stolen moment to your father. Choose the answer you like best, for they’re all true.” Then one side of his lips twitched and he asked, “Why did you kiss me?”

Rachel’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t release his gaze. “It seemed the proper reaction.” That and she hadn’t been able to believe her intensity of response to his simple and soft action. She had needed to prove the truth of it with another.

Another of his velvety chuckles sounded. “That seems rather dangerous. For me, at any rate. If I acted upon what seemed proper for the moment, I would need to travel separately from you. The twitch of your lips begs for kisses.”

A reluctant smirk replaced her serious expression as she turned her face away and slightly lifted her fan to shield a great portion of her face. “I doubt another could be persuaded so soon after the first.”

“Oh? And why is that? You doubt the power of my persuasion?”

“I doubt the second would hold the… intrigue as a first.”

“I see,” he said slowly. Yet the slowness of his response caused a tingle and a sidelong glance to catch his continued regard and the mischievous quirk of lip. “Don’t you know that the second can be just as intriguing as a first due to the many different types of kisses to be had? Then there are also the different strategic locations for a caress of lip. Such as a rebellious curl at the temple; an incessant arch of a left eyebrow…” Then he added, “From what I’ve heard, of course,” punctuated by a slight wave of hand.

“Oh, of course.” She sent him another sidelong glance to make sure his position in the seat beside her hadn’t moved. Rachel hated to admit her curiosity at what he said. Yet another portion of her felt a surprising bit of fear that he might indeed prove the truth of it.

“It’s much like the handshake shown previously,” Robert continued, the same tone of mischief heard in his low baritone voice. “Soft. Firm. Gentle. Tender,” he listed, a poignant pause between each word. “Different levels of each conveying a very different emotion.”

Rachel briefly clasped her hand in her lap as she focused her attention on the continued gentle and rhythmic pulse of her fan. Her heart wasn’t so easily quieted as she found her mind doing its best to imagine the possibilities. “From what you’ve heard… of course,” she said, her voice sickeningly calm.

A soft caress of a chuckle sounded in her ear, causing a twitch and a tightening of her hold on the fan as she just kept herself from meeting his gaze. “Of course,” he said, his breath tickling her skin.

A slight breeze made the decidedly masculine scent of him flare her nostrils as she struggled with the effort of keeping her breathing as well as her fan at a normal pace. However, the scent drew a deeper breath from her, heightening the terror at the intensity his presence caused within. The more rapid beating of her heart. The fact that his soft and laughing voice made her feel more woman than business--

Rachel shoved it all away - the warmth and the terror, the tingle and the shift that rumbled within - pressing it all aside and under the calm and control, struggling to step behind it before turning to face him. The twinkle in his brown eyes beckoned her back, but she refused it, continuing the gentle pulse of her fan and slowly arching an eyebrow.

One side of Robert’s lips twitched upward. “I see I’ve gone a little too far.” He sat back. “I’m sorry, Rachel. My flippancy and flirtatious tendency has a leaning toward ignoring limits.” Robert crossed his arms and again rested his head back as he smiled at her. “You are great fun to tease because I know you aren’t afraid of giving me my own back. Damon is the only other who understands me and my humor to that point. And ladies?” Robert laughed. “I can hardly tease them about any subject at all, and especially not kissing and corsets. They don’t seem to understand my meaning.”

The rumbling behind the calm and control settled as she continued to regard him, now not certain if his statement on the different levels of intensity in a kiss could be construed as part of his tease or part of a fact, and unwilling to admit that she wanted to know one way or the other.

~~~

Robert couldn’t tell if the silence that settled over the carriage was anything but innocent as they continued their way to whatever first errand had been decided upon. Even Rachel’s reasoning for heading into town had been lost as he chastised himself for the kiss and the tease and the flirtatious attitude that was exceedingly too much fun. Idiot! What are you doing? But he didn’t know. The line between being led by what God deemed best and what his heart told him had begun to fade. I’m sorry, Lord. I don’t mean to push the boundaries. You know that. Now the kiss was done and Rachel had again pulled back behind the almost cold calm he had seen on so many different occasions.

He scrubbed at his scalp and the back of his neck, intercepting Rachel’s sidelong scrutiny with a smile. Rachel, I am so sorry for pushing you into a showing of tenderness when I know you aren’t ready for it. Not after the few confessions she had made of what her training in Europe had consisted of. Brow-beatings. Manipulations. Hard lessons that had eradicated the shy and sensitive young girl taken away from the guidance and support of her parents.

Then to be manipulated still by her father upon her return? It was no wonder she viewed him with suspicion, for she very likely believed he would use and abuse her as her father had done. Please, Lord, continue to guide me. I don’t know how deep the hurt burns, but I know that I want to help her through it. I know I want to help her learn to trust again. The action of trust, once lost, was so hard to teach and cultivate. Hence her continued showing of reluctance. Suspicion. Her questions. Her intrigue when she regarded him.

Robert wasn’t certain how to encourage the trust between them, other than what he had done so far: doing his best in voice and action to be as trustworthy and truthful as possible. At times it was the hardest confession, especially when it showed him in a less-than-perfect light. But how else could he show her that he admitted his failings and utilized them to be the person he was? How else could he show her that he did not, under any circumstances, believe himself to be her better? How else could he prove to her that he would never purposefully hurt her?

In his experience, actions had always spoken louder than words.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, the driver scrambling down to open the door and help Rachel down before Robert could exit to do the same. Then she waited outside their apparent first stop as he climbed down and came to stand beside her, watching her with a slight smile as she lifted her fan with a graceful motion and gestured toward the building, a single-story jeweler’s boutique.

Rachel faced him, giving no reaction to his smile or his expression. “This, obviously, will be where we decide upon the rings to be exchanged during the ceremony.”

“Am I allowed to request an engraving for your band?” he ventured.

“An engraving? For what reason?”

His lips twitched upward. “Call it romantic nonsense.”

A smirk flashed across her lovely face before she faced ahead and stepped toward the boutique’s front entrance. “Do what you will.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” he said under his breath. The kisses shared being a perfect example. I am sorry, Lord. Yes, the moment had cried out for it, and yes, he had wanted to kiss those inviting rose lips since the cottage visit before, especially when it had seemed she had done her own bit of flirting. Yet he knew those weren’t reasons enough to jeopardize all that he had encouraged between them. All I can ask is that You use it. Goodness knows it’s easy enough for You to make miracles out of mishaps. He had already done so on more than one occasion.

As Rachel and Robert entered, the boutique shop door chimed a cheerful greeting using a collection of metal bells affixed to the top of the door. Moment’s later, an older man wearing a light brown leather apron and shirt-sleeves grubby with gold and silver flecks came from the back. He had a ruddy face and curly auburn hair as well as a quick smile and bushy red eyebrows above sparkling hazel-green eyes.

“Greetings, my dears,” he voiced, his tone very much like the chimes of the door. He reached under the counter for a stained towel and wiped his hands. “What can I do for you?”

Unfortunately, due to the expectations of society, the man looked to Robert for the reasons behind their visit. Robert, knowing full well that his answer would put Rachel in a mood, only smiled at the man and then moved his attention to her to ask, “May I look at the different displays while you speak with him?”

The tightness around her lips softened as she met his gaze with a blink. Then she inclined her head with a carefully calm, “Of course,” and returned her focus to the gentleman. “We’ve come to see about purchasing a double-band wedding set.”

As Robert moved away under the pretense of observing the shop’s inventory, he heard the sound of the man’s soft clearing of throat before he vocalized a “Certainly, certainly,” and went to the task of pulling out the displays close at hand.

A twisted part of Robert’s humor enjoyed the prospect of causing shock and frustration with his continued deference to Rachel’s authority. Of course he didn’t expect her to control and lead each and every aspect of their life and relationship, as they had already discussed, but he had no qualms with deferring to her if she had been the one to set specific things into motion. Only an arrogant ass assumed control when plans had been made beforehand; plans of which Robert had no idea.

Besides, I’m perfectly content to simply attend the wedding. Goodness knows that’s the most enjoyable portion of it in the first place. Well, that and the night following. Robert smirked and then grimaced. Good night, old man! And he immediately cast a glance heavenward, knowing full-well that if he hadn’t observed that particular fact, Damon certainly would have.

“Robert.”

Robert straightened from his unseeing scrutiny of a display and looked toward the front reception counter where Rachel and the attendant still stood. He smiled and then approached. “Yes, dear?” And he nearly laughed aloud, especially at her responding smirk and slight twitch of eyebrow. How many years have I wanted to say that? Yes, it had been said in jest and yes, he had fully intended it that way, but that was the entire… attraction in saying it.

The idea of people believing him to be a whipped lap-dog of a husband held a particular twinkle of humor for Robert.

“What say you to these? Nothing extravagant, no, but definitely attractive and elegant.”

Robert moved to stand close beside her, his arm brushing against hers as he reached to retrieve one of the men’s bands. The gold was pale, much like her engagement ring, and etched with an intriguing design that gave the impression of being a vine. “Hm. Very nice.” The continuing circle of unity and the vine-like representation of their connection with Christ and His Father. “Quite symbolic.”

Rachel looked again to the nearly half-a-dozen collection of rings and then back to the one he held in his fingers. “Hm.”

She retrieved the ring from his fingers and then surprised him by taking hold of his hand and slipping it onto the appropriate finger. Then she tilted his hand this way and that while he looked on in silent amusement. Rachel’s expression of concentration and regard was as attractive and beguiling as her expression of intrigue, consternation, and spark of temper. Mostly due to the fact that the expression was true to what she felt. It wasn’t feigned to encourage and manipulate a reaction or action. It was felt. It was experienced.

Rachel pursed her lips and then retrieved the ring, slipping yet another and then a third and forth onto his finger and gauging the ring’s appearance much as she had with the first. Most, save the first, received a brief shake to her head before being removed and set aside. Finally, she had decided upon the first ring and then presented it to the jeweler, seemingly not noticing when Robert leaned one arm and elbow against the glass counter as he watched her make final arrangements.

“Please have these resized and sent to the Samson estate in care of Miss Rachel Samson. I will deliver Mr. Trent’s to his hotel once they are received. Also, send along the bill to the former once they are completed and I will recompense you for your trouble.”

“Will there be anything engraved upon them?” the attendant asked as he jotted down the directions.

Rachel looked to Robert. “What did you want engraved?”

Robert’s smile widened momentarily before he faced the attendant and requested a pencil and paper. He jotted down the words, ‘this mortal’s Angel’ and then presented the paper and pencil back again.

The man smiled as he read it and said “Very nice,” before attaching the bit of paper to the appropriate portion of the order and looking to Rachel. “And you, Miss?”

She paused at that, which gave rise to one of Robert’s eyebrows, and then accepted the presented pencil and paper. Robert deliberately kept himself from reading what she wrote and only used the attendant’s smile and nod as a gauge to the appropriateness of it. The curiosity and eagerness to see it himself would make the moment at their wedding all the sweeter.

“All right, Miss. I’ll have these shipped to you as soon as I have them finished.”

“Thank you, sir,” and then she gave a slight nod and turned to exit the boutique, Robert following after touching his forehead with his finger in a type of salute.

He had to admit that being led and following behind was rather fun. No demands upon his person. No expectations of performance. No demands upon his expertise. True, some would consider his ‘performance’ nothing more than what a faithful dog would do, but who cared of that when Robert knew she respected his opinion?

The driver helped Rachel back into the carriage, made certain Robert didn’t trip as he stepped up beside her, and then waited for Rachel to direct, “To Mr. Belding’s please, Randall.”

“Yes, Miss.” Then he scrambled aboard and the carriage lurched forward.

Robert regarded her lovely profile as she gracefully opened her fan to stir the air of her neck and throat, making a particularly determined errant curl at her ear dance in the breeze. Robert fisted his hand to keep from reaching out to tease it. “You aren’t still angry with me for the teasing of the kiss, are you Rachel?” he asked.

The question drew her gaze, and he saw a slight flutter of surprise in her expression. “I wasn’t angry to begin with.”

As he had supposed. The showing of tenderness and how it had made her feel had apparently shuffled her back behind the protection of her training in control and calm. So, Robert smiled and followed an urge to reach out and give the hand that rested in her lap a gentle pressure. “I’m glad of that. Putting you in a temper is my last intention, especially when your father seems determined to do it each time he sees you.”

Rachel scoffed and looked away, but she didn’t retrieve her hand from his hold. Instead, the action of her fan in her other became sharper and less graceful. “He only seeks to test my resolve.”

Robert noticed his thumb had taken up its new addiction of caressing her skin, but when she still didn’t retrieve her hand, he allowed it to continue. “Well, if he persists, he’s liable to find myself in his office threatening elopement.”

She scoffed again. “Don’t be absurd.”

This time Rachel pulled her hand from his. It seemed that each time an action taken would negatively impact business or the reputation of her family, she veered from it with tenacious determination. Even distancing herself from the one that had suggested the action. Pay attention, old man, he chided.

“No,” he said after a deep breath. “I don’t suppose that would be a wise idea, would it? It would cause difficulty for the business and jeopardize your family’s reputation.” Robert released another breath. “Rachel, I only don’t care for seeing you so upset. I suppose seeing how he puts you into a fit of rage sparks my temper.”

Rachel looked at him this time, regarding his expression while the tempo of her fan became less aggravated. Then she faced ahead once again. “Let him test me to his heart’s content, Robert. I haven’t trained for eight years to be coddled and ignored. I’ve been trained to handle arrogant and aggressive men. Unfortunately, it seems my father is no different than the other men I’ve met up to this point.” She glanced toward him. “With you as the exception, of course.”

Robert smirked and adjusted his position to rest his elbow on to the back of the seat while resting his temple into his fist. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He noticed her sidelong glance and the continued change in the rhythm and ‘temper’ of the fan. “So, who is Mr. Belding and why is he on our errand list?”

“Mr. Belding is the Samson family tailor.”

“Ah. My suit mentioned before.”

“Precisely.”

Another sidelong glance, longer this time, and then Rachel again guided her focus forward. Robert noticed the fan rose a bit, hiding slightly more of her face and slowing to a mere whisper of movement.

“I suppose I should save this visit until after lunch,” she continued, “as it is liable to take more than an hour with the fitting and decisions of materials and colors and whatnot, but I know of a small café around the corner that can supply us with ample food while we see to our business with Mr. Belding. I’ve but to make my way over while Mr. Belding takes your measurements.”

Robert decided against teasing her about whether or not he or Mr. Belding could be trusted with the responsibility. “Yes, dear,” was what he chose as a response instead.

Her lips quirked upward, deftly hidden by a motion of the fan. “I may need to have Mr. Belding do his best to alleviate the burden on Mr. Thorne, whom Father has chosen to create my trousseau. Therefore, once your measurements have been taken and the questions of preference for material and color and style have been answered, I shall have him take my measurements as well.”

“I don’t suppose I could have him create a new wardrobe for me? Since we’re here, of course.”

“I don’t see why not. You will need to discuss it with Mr. Belding. Though you may want to pause on the choosing of a wardrobe until we know for certain where we intend to take our holiday. That won’t be discussed until this evening over dinner.”

“Yes, dear.”

Again the lilt of lip, but this time followed by a sidelong glance and a whispered scold of, “Robert,” before she again faced forward and continued with the subject at hand. Robert only continued to watch her, an absent smile teasing his lips as he watched the curl at her ear still teased by the fan; the movement of her rose lips as she spoke; the slight arch of her eyebrow when she would remember a fact or point that would need to be considered later; and the hint of blush on her cheeks that occasionally darkened for a mere whisper of a moment.

“I doubt Father will object to an outdoor ceremony, and as it will be June when the ceremony is finally performed, the weather should cooperate nicely. Be sure to keep the weather and temperature in mind when you consider materials for your suit,” she directed as she momentarily looked toward him, the action of her fan pausing as she closed it with a deft movement and motioned toward him. Then she focused forward again and continued.

Robert fought back a laugh and again moved his free hand to enfold hers. The action didn’t pause the action of fan or speech. Neither did she twitch.

“After the majority of the plans have been made for the wedding and the holiday after, I will do my best to arrange a few visits to the office so that we might familiarize ourselves with the workings of it. A place for you will also need to be determined, as I’ve no intention to waste your intelligence and training in law. While I doubt there will be a place on the Board for you, perhaps we can see about the possibility of opening a position under the current Executive Officer. I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember now who has the current standing. Although, perhaps you would rather a partnership in a local law firm?” she asked, her eyes focusing on his.

His smile softened as he found himself thoroughly enjoying the act of her arranging his life rather than vice versa. “I had hoped to do something of the sort, if you don’t mind?”

“Would you rather a partnership be found? Or the funding of your own firm?” she pressed.

He blinked. “I rather like the sound of that.”

“Your own?” Then, before he could respond, she gave a nod and again looked ahead. “I’ll see that my father’s secretary begins the interview process for your staff while arranging a location. You will, of course, want to be kept abreast of the possible choices for each, so I will have him report to you at the hotel once the process has been started.”

“Be sure he chooses staff partial to children.”

Rachel focused on him again, her fan pausing mid-stroke. “Pardon?”

“I’ve always been of the mind to begin a firm that defends the needs of children; orphans and parented alike. Wards of the state, political immigrants, et cetera. Finding them places to stay. Securing papers for residency. Putting through adoptions or applications for independence… I’m certain I could balance that as well as the firm’s role in your family’s business.”

The fan pulsed, paused, and then pulsed again as she regarded him with that same intrigue and curiosity he had come to expect. The suspicion seldom appeared, except for when he pressed upon the more intimate details of their relationship.

“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 intelligence. “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.

His position across from her caused another twitch of Rachel’s eyebrow. “Driver, print shop please,” she directed absently, still watching Robert.

“Yes, Miss.”

Robert tightly crossed his arms as he continued to smile and regard her. “Yet another experience of fun that previously held none.”

“I had noticed your smiles and occasional chuckle,” she offered, the fan opening to tease the air near her face with a slow motion of… curiosity and… absent thoughtfulness.

She’s the loveliest when thoughtful, he decided as he briefly clenched a hand.

“Yet I noticed, also, an occasional darkness when you believed I wasn’t watching.”

Robert’s smile vanished. “Pardon?” Good night, old man! What to confess as to the reason? I can’t tell her--

“You would have told me had the choice of wardrobe not been to your liking, correct?”

Robert scrambled for calm and collection as he struggled a return of the smile and forced himself to hold her intense scrutiny. “Of course. I more than likely thought of my father and his reaction when he receives the letter sent this morning,” Robert lied, begging forgiveness as he did so.

“You haven’t been concerned after his reactions to anything before this time,” Rachel countered, expression still thoughtful.

“No, I suppose I haven’t.” This time he had to look away, and any other words wouldn’t come.

“And again,” she observed, motioning toward him with her fan, now closed.

Robert fisted both hands as he adjusted his crossed arms, gaze still blindly staring out the window. Honesty. Remember? You promised yourself honesty when talking with her. But was it appropriate after their limited acquaintance? Yes, he attempted to court and encourage an attraction, but… this confession? Robert released a slow breath before meeting her gaze. “Don’t ask after this expression, Rachel.” He shook his head. “Not this one.”

She regarded him a moment before saying, “Robert, you know that I will press you to answer if the subject pertains to me.”

“Yes,” he acknowledged, enhancing the statement with a brief nod. “But you should know by now I won’t answer if there is a chance it will jeopardize the relationship we have.”

Rachel’s eyebrow arched, the thoughtfulness making way to intrigue and curiosity that sparkled in green eyes. The expression heightened the intelligence and wit he knew to be always active. Robert swallowed hard and again looked away, the intensity of his attraction to her tightening his chest the same as it gave rise to the fear that his common-sense and desire to do the right thing wouldn’t be able to stand against the desire to know her.

“I’ve caused more fear,” she observed.

The statement didn’t surprise him, she’d been trained to correctly observe people and the meaning for their actions, but it caused tension and a slight blink. A sigh even before he risked meeting her gaze. Her green eyes showed a deeper intrigue and… regret.

“I apologize, Robert. I didn’t realize that my aggression in the planning and preparation for the wedding would have a negative result on the expectation.”

“Negati–” Robert sat up, arms and hands reaching toward her. “No, Rachel. That isn’t it at all.” But how did he explain the truth without heightening her suspicion and her reluctance to be near him?

“Then why do I see fear in your expression?” she pressed. “I know very well of man’s affinity toward control and power, and yet I’ve taken all of these away from you, from day one, without thought to how it would affect our tentative friendship.”

“Rachel, no,” Robert said again, more forceful and even shaking his head. “I’ve enjoyed not having to think and plan and plot and arrange. It’s been a treat and a… learning experience to watch you display your natural ability to lead and direct.” Robert reluctantly smirked, “If anything, it’s tickled that twisted portion of my humor for the merchants to believe I’m a spineless soon-to-be-husband whom prefers to have the woman wear the trousers.”

“Then why have I seen fear? My own was due to the tenacity of my training and my desire to not appear tender-hearted, but you? Yes, you confessed to a previous fear of rejection, but this is different, and I haven’t been able to determine a reason for it. Especially not when you confess to the fun you’ve had.”

Robert tried to answer, but the fact that she had attempted to find a reason for the fear before confronting him with it only made the desire and extreme attachment toward her burn all the brighter. He clenched his jaw and looked away as his hands moved to a tight grip of his knees.

“La,” she said suddenly, tone calm and yet amazed. “It’s the attraction you mentioned before, isn’t it?”

His hands tightened their grip. Rachel… Why must you be so brilliant? Robert released a quick breath. “Yes.” Then he faced her. Her expression of intrigue also harbored another… unknown one. An expression that seemed to be as unique as Rachel.

“But why are you afraid of it? I’ve told you I’ve no reason to reject your advances.”

The statement was the first naive comment he had ever heard from her lips. However, what made it the most difficult to accept was the fact that it was a true statement. “I know,” he admitted, tone carefully controlled, though it sounded odd to his own ears.

“If you’ve a desire to kiss, there’s no reason for you to fear and restrain it,” she informed, the seriousness of her comment wreaking havoc on the calm and causing him to tighten the grip on his knees to a point of pain.

“Rachel…” He cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Rachel, I’d rather not follow-through with each desire and impulse. The fact that you accept its presence in my mind is appreciated, but don’t encourage an action. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

She arched an eyebrow for a dazzling display of continued intrigue and surprise. “The ones bestowed before seemed simple enough.”

Robert’s smile wavered, but he forced it to remain. “Yes, well, I’d rather not risk a deeper reaction.”

“A deeper reaction?” Rachel regarded him in that same calmly controlled manner before realization dawned and she said, “Ah yes. The different levels of a kiss, much as the handshake.”

Gads! How can she be so calm? Robert momentarily clenched his jaw, causing the smile to become more tight-lipped than he would have liked, and causing also a chain-reaction of a raised eyebrow from Rachel.

“In that is the fear,” she reasoned slowly.

Robert fisted his hands, immediately loosening them to a forced lighter-grip of his knees. “Rachel, can we not talk about this right now? The day spent in your company - which I have thoroughly enjoyed - has tattered my resolve to… er… not kiss you.” Robert nearly rolled his eyes at the level of honesty he had committed himself to.

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t confess my own curiosity at which level of passion you would choose and how it would be done?”

The forced smile vanished and he swallowed hard. “Uh… no.” Lord… help…

“I see,” she said, slowly inclining her head as she continued to regard him. Then she frowned and pressed her lips into a thin line, her green eyes sparkling as the emeralds he’d seen in the jeweler’s boutique. “The curiosity doesn’t like being set aside. It makes the desire to have the kiss all the greater.”

Robert scrubbed at his scalp with both hands as he closed his eyes. “Yes, well, temptation is never anything but an enemy.”

“So, rather than give in to the promise of a simple kiss that might lead to more, you restrain altogether?”

“I try.” he said in a tight voice. No, old man. No. Though her intrigue made the want worse. Though her acceptance and attempt to understand his struggle made the desire burn greater. Though his own intrigue with the type of person she showed herself to be created a deeper emotion that should have been impossible… He scrubbed at his scalp again before releasing a deep breath and forcing himself to meet her gaze, which regarded him closer than ever before. “Sometimes it’s easier to resist than others.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed that of myself,” she admitted.

Robert blinked. “Excuse me?”

Rachel’s cheeks flushed as she looked away and teased the air with gentle strokes of her fan. “The desire to be kissed or to kiss. It’s annoying enough to have it come unbidden, although I’m certain the flirtation is the reason for it, but for it to overpower thoughts of anything else and nearly force myself to act upon it? Yes. It’s easier to resist some times more than others.”

The confession of the desire and her own struggle with a temptation had been completely unexpected, and it definitely didn’t lessen his own.

“I suppose it’s my own fault for keeping myself distant from the presence of men while in France,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t force myself to smile and laugh when their blatant shallowness caused nausea.” Rachel scoffed. “Believing practiced words would make my heart go aflutter.” She scoffed again. “You give more flutter with your attraction to my person rather than my supposed beauty, annoying as it is to be accepted for myself as a whole.” The comment was finished with a sidelong smirk his direction.

Robert accepted the smile and returned a more boyish one of his own. He couldn’t help but feel at ease around her. She understood him as no one ever had. His humor. The workings of his mind. The logic of his views of life and business… “I’m glad that I have that effect on ladies of business the same as ladies of frills and fancy,” he said in a low voice.

Rachel chuckled softly and then closed her fan and fully focused on him to motion toward him with it. “And I apologize for my over-attentiveness within the boutique. I noticed your… discomfort and yet performed the actions anyway. Curiosity can be both demon and angel, apparently.”

Robert’s mouth gaped. Then his lips lifted in one corner. “So you plotted that little demonstration with the hands, did you? That wasn’t very nice at all, especially not in light of my recent confessions of attraction.”

Rachel lowered her gaze and absently picked at her fan. “Yes. I know. Research of that kind shouldn’t have been surrendered to, and yet…” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “I admit that the curiosity was more aimed at myself and how it would feel than how you would react to it.”

The confession caused a tightening to his chest and his throat. To all intents and purposes it seemed as if she were… pursuing an attraction toward him.

“I should have given your feelings more than a passing thought.” Rachel met his gaze. “I am sorry, Robert.”

Robert offered her an encouraging smile as he leaned back into the corner of the carriage, his right arm resting along the back of the velvet-cushioned seat. “I accept your apology, Rachel. Thank you for offering it.”

Her slight smile returned, as did the graceful movement of her fan. Then the seriousness returned and she began discussing the ideas had for the invitations and place cards for all. Robert listened and responded as appropriate, the smile settling deeper within as the struggle against the draw was set to one side. And so where do I go from here, Lord? Keep on as I have; one step at a time while allowing her to lead? Leading her also with gentleness and firmness, honesty and encouragement? He could only pray that wherever he went, she would be there beside him.

~~~

Rachel handed Oliver her hat and gloves. “Oliver,” she greeted.

“Good evening, Miss. I sincerely hope your errands went well.”

Rachel cast Robert a sidelong glance as he came to stand beside her, shrugging out of his overcoat and then presenting them to Oliver without noticing her scrutiny. “Very well, thank you. Dinner?”

“Is ready and waiting, Miss. Dining nook or the upper parlor?”

Accepting Robert’s help from her overcoat, she couldn’t keep the continued small smile from her lips. “Upper parlor, I think. I don’t wish to be bothered by Father’s negative moods.”

“Yes, Miss, though the Master is at an evening appointment and doesn’t expect to be back until late.”

A blink of surprise preceded her “Another appointment?”

“Yes, Miss,” and Oliver seemed to wait for more demands upon his person.

Silent regard on Robert’s behalf did nothing to ease her own curiosity and mild suspicion. “Oliver, what has been the point to all these appointments?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say, Miss.”

Rachel’s eyebrow arched. “You couldn’t say?” she repeated.

“No, Miss,” and his expression remained calm and patiently waiting.

She felt a slight nudge from Robert at her right and let the subject pass with a simple, “All right. Thank you, Oliver.”

“Certainly, Miss. I shall have the stewards bring dinner up.” He turned to go.

Rachel focused on Robert. “He couldn’t say,” she repeated. “Oliver hasn’t ever said something as specifically revealing as that.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’m not to know something, Oliver has always been the best at keeping me from having any suspicion that anything secretive is amiss.” She motioned after him. “That comment deliberately intrigued me, and he knows I’ll ask.”

Robert smirked. “Intelligent gentleman, that.”

The seriousness retreated from the return of the smile. “Yes. Always.”

He offered her his arm. “Upper parlor?”

“Across from my room,” she directed as she accepted his arm and fell into step beside him. “Haven’t you been given a tour?”

“Can’t say that I have, though I suppose it was a deliberate attempt by your father to put me in a mood. He knows which nerves to hit and just how strongly.”

Rachel gave a wry grimace. “Yes. I seem to have taken after him in that regard.”

Robert laughed. “You’re not as bad as that, Rachel. I find you charm itself.”

“Hm. I wonder at that. You seem to find a great many things ‘charm itself’; your person included.”

Robert’s expression grew thoughtful. “I hadn’t noticed that. I should imagine a different phrase then for you. One that sounds more impressive than ‘charm itself’.” One side of Rachel’s lips twitched as she continued to face forward. Robert suddenly waved a hand, drawing her gaze. “Ah well, I’m certain something will present itself in the midst of a tender moment.” He sent her a wink.

Which Rachel accepted with another slight smirk and only a brief meeting of his gaze. Instead, she retrieved her arm from his hand at the crest of the stairs and motioned down the hall to the right toward the room across from hers. “Father most often uses the room directly off his, titled the upper study. My mother’s room of choice was the sitting room below. The upper parlor was most commonly used for reading, light meetings between my mother and one or two friends, or for imaginary tea parties.”

“Imaginary tea parties?” Robert repeated, watching her profile as they continued toward the room.

“Certainly. Maggie and I couldn’t entertain the President’s wife in Father’s study. Too dark and mysterious.” Her sidelong glance intercepted his soft smile and felt a tingle within.

“I see.” Then Robert focused on the opening of the door and the revelation of the elegantly furnished room beyond.

A simple couch with a wooden scalloped back off-set by two matching over-stuffed chairs and a simple claw-foot cherry wood table in the center. Bookshelves. A writing desk. An oriental rug. Oil landscapes. Lightly patterned drapes pulled back from tall windows that tickled the room with life and light. Rachel took in a slow breath and released it. Peering into the room felt as if she looked back at pleasant memories of a good friend and a better self. A time of laughter and safety. A time of dreams and romantic visions of futures. A time when Rachel had been ‘Rachel’ and not ‘Miss Samson’.

Robert enfolded her hand with his, the simple action doing so much more than what she had thought it could. “Your hideaway,” he said softly.

Rachel released another breath and then pulled her hand from his, still regarding the shifting within with muted and highly controlled suspicion. She stepped into the room toward the couch. “I suppose you could classify it as such at one point in time. I always seemed to find my way here when Mother and Father had guests.”

Silence fell for barely a moment before Robert followed. “Yes. I seem to recall hearing you were shy as a girl.”

Rachel sat at the couch and watched as he lowered himself into the chair across from her. The expression he offered was a small and understanding smile. You are too understanding, she wanted to tell him. It causes the suspicion. Instead, she lowered her gaze to the table between and retrieved a sheaf of papers and pencil from a side-drawer. “Shy. Timid. Fearful. Classify it as you like. I hid from life.” Now it seems to overwhelm me with choices I’m unable to make. She briefly pressed her lips together.

“Let’s not worry after the invitation to my parents,” Robert said, drawing her focus. “I’ll send them a wire either tomorrow or the day after.” He smiled his usual boyish grin. “I need to give Father a time to cool off.”

A reluctant smile softened her expression. “Ah yes. The stretch of independence and controlling of your own destiny.”

He winked. “Exactly.” He crossed his arms as he watched her. “My thought is that I’ve chosen the better one.”

“I shall do my best not to disappoint,” Rachel teased, drawing two columns onto the paper and labeling one ‘bridesmaids’ and the other ‘groomsmen’.

“Act yourself and I’m certain bliss will be the only memory.”

Rachel smirked. “Bliss? My, my. That is a tall order.”

“For my Angel?” Robert smirked. “Please. Don’t be so modest.”

Rachel looked up. “Whom is to be best man? Your friend?”

Robert nodded, lounging back into the chair and draping a leg over the arm. “Yes. Damon Childers. I haven’t yet heard back from him. He’s likely struck dumb in shock.” Robert retrieved his pipe from the inner pocket of his suit coat and placed it between his teeth. “I had thought to ask Mr. Richards to be one of the groomsmen, but realized I should ask you first. Is that all right?”

“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.