Chapter Twenty-Four
L ora met his gaze evenly, suppressing the urge to retreat. She wondered what had drawn her to him. At the moment, she didn’t want to be near him. “Your presence adds to the success, Mr. Hastings.”
Rockford’s hand subtly shifted to rest on the small of Lora’s back.
She appreciated his quiet gesture of support. “We trust you’re enjoying the auction.”
“Immensely.” Hasting’s gaze flickered between them, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s heartening to see such dedication to… worthy causes. One hopes they remain untainted by less noble pursuits.”
An unspoken challenge hung in the air. Rockford’s expression remained inscrutable. He met Hastings’ gaze with unwavering confidence. “True dedication to a cause shines brightest when tested. Those who seek to undermine it will find their efforts futile.”
Hastings’ smile tightened, and a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. He quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Naturally,” he purred, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “Though appearances can be deceiving, wouldn’t you say?”
Rockford held his gaze steadily, his calm demeanor showing an authority that left no room for doubt about his seriousness. “Appearances often reveal more than one intends,” he said, his voice low and commanding, making it clear he was not to be trifled with.
“Have you had a chance to see the fine landscape donated by John Constable?” Hastings continued, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “A true masterpiece.”
“Yes, we have,” Lora replied, maintaining a cordial tone, her eyes flicking between the two men.
“Excellent,” Hastings said. “I must say, it’s heartening to see such charitable efforts. Though one hopes all contributions are… appropriately managed.”
Lora stiffened, recognizing the insinuation. “I’m confident in the integrity of those with whom I am working,” she responded coolly.
“Of course,” Hastings said, his eyes glinting with something that unsettled her. “Merely commenting on the importance of clarity in these ventures.”
“Clarity is indeed vital,” Rockford interjected, his gaze steady. “As is trust.”
Hastings inclined his head slightly, the flicker of unease still apparent but masked by determination. “Wise words,” he said, his smile returning with a hint of challenge. “Enjoy your evening.”
As he moved away, Lora released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I can’t dismiss the feeling that he has his own agenda.” She stared after him. “I don’t trust him.”
The evening wore on, tension lingering beneath the surface. Lora and Rockford made a point to engage with guests, addressing any unspoken doubts with grace and confidence. Some guests responded warmly, whereas others offered only curt nods or averted their gaze. Yet the whispers persisted, creating an unsettling presence at the edges of her awareness.
“Come, we both need a break.” Rockford guided Lora to the terrace doors. “I need to rest my face from smiling. It seems someone has been very busy.” They stepped outside.
The night air was crisp, carrying the briny tang of the sea and the faint scent of wood smoke from distant hearths. Above, a tapestry of stars stretched endlessly, a shimmering ribbon across the sky. The rhythmic lull of the waves crashing on the beach provided a soothing pace.
Lora rested her hands on the cool stone of the balustrade, gazing out as the moon wove a silver path across the water. “Moments like this feel almost timeless,” she mused. “As if all the world’s troubles are held at bay.”
Rockford stepped closer, draping his coat over her shoulders. “It would be nice if we could remain here,” he murmured.
She turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Perhaps we can, in our minds at least.”
He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her cheek. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her heart quickened. “And what is that?”
“You’ve come to mean more to me than I ever thought possible.”
Lora’s eyes shimmered as she took a deep breath, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “I feel the same,” she admitted, her voice soft yet steady. Her fingers lightly trembled against his chest before she steadied them.
He turned to face her fully. “Lora, I want you to know that whatever challenges arise, that will never change.”
Her heart swelled at his words. “You’ve been my steadfast ally through so much already. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he vowed. Hesitating slightly, he gently caressed her cheek, his hand lingering and sending a soothing warmth through her. She looked up into his eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within her own heart. “Rockford, there’s something I need to tell you.”
He waited patiently, his gaze unwavering.
“Over these past days, amidst all the chaos and uncertainties, I’ve come to realize even more how much your presence means to me.” She took a shaky breath. “I care for you deeply, more than ever.”
A slow smile spread across his face, genuine and filled with affection. “Lora, you’ve brought light into my life in ways I never expected. When we first began working on the clinic project together, I thought I was just helping my friend’s sister. But it’s turned into so much more. My feelings now are clearly sincere.”
She placed her hand over his. “Then we face whatever comes next together.”
“Together,” he affirmed.
A soft rustle of skirts and approaching footsteps broke the moment. Lady Harriet appeared in the doorway, smiling as if she knew exactly what she had interrupted.
*
Lady Harriet appeared in the doorway. “There you are! Father was an excellent auctioneer. You would have been proud of him.”
Rockford raised an eyebrow. “In addition to him being a brilliant doctor. And how did the auction go?”
“Very well, indeed.” Harriet’s face lit in a wide smile. “Lady Beatrice won the Constable painting for an outstanding ￡600. She’s a close friend of Major-General Rebow’s wife Mary Hester. It appears Mary Hester swoons over the landscape Mr. Constable did for them. This piece His Grace obtained for the auction was one Lady Beatrice was not only surprised to see here but also the prize of the auction.”
Lora’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s wonderful.”
Rockford nodded, his expression softening. “Indeed. It seems the evening was very successful.”
Harriet sighed, glancing back at the hall. “Yes, it was, but I can’t help but feel there’s more to this evening than meets the eye,” she murmured, her gaze thoughtful. “But I’m thrilled with the number of people who attended and the auction’s success. I’ve come to share this wonderful news and to tell you the carriages are being prepared.”
“Thank you, Harriet.” Lora cast one last glance at Rockford. “Thank you, Rockford, for all you’ve done to make this a successful evening.”
Rockford lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss upon it. A pleasant shiver ran up her arm, easing the evening’s tensions and leaving her feeling cherished and deeply connected to him.
She smiled softly, her heart swelling as she whispered, “Until tomorrow.”
Lora and Harriet made their way to the carriage. As they exchanged a warm look, Lora’s eyes sparkled with a newfound determination and hope.
As the carriage wheels turned, a quiet determination settled in her heart. Whatever shadows Hastings intended to cast, she would not face them alone. With Rockford at her side, they could withstand anything.
“You seem lost in thought,” Harriet observed gently.
Lora offered a small smile. “Perhaps, but no longer adrift. I know where I stand now.”
Harriet’s eyes held a knowing glint. “And with whom you stand?”
Lora’s cheeks warmed. “Yes,” she murmured, her fingers brushing the edge of Rockford’s coat. “And with whom I choose to stand.”
*
From the shadows, Hastings watched them, his expression wavering with unease. The game was advancing. The chess pieces were moving toward an inevitable finish, a veritable checkmate.
If that were true, why did the sight of them, so in sync, so certain, set his teeth on edge? The fear gnawed at him. This wasn’t just about control. It was about losing to Rockford. The sight of their closeness stirred a deep, bitter resentment, one he forced down behind a practiced smirk.
“Enjoy your respite,” he murmured, his voice shaded with a barely concealed anxiety. “The tides are turning.”