Chapter 10 #3
He started to turn away, and then paused.
“Oh, and did I mention that I shall be coming with Chesterfield. We’ll be staying at his family’s estate in order to attend the ball.
As you recall, he was a very close friend of your sister.
He’s been asking about you and will delighted to hear of your recovery. ”
Rafael didn’t miss the fact that if anything, Kyra turned even paler. Her face was now as white and lifeless as the carved marble statuary decorating the nearby fountain.
Bowing her head, she stood fussing with the cut greenery and flowers in her basket until the crunch of Matherton’s footsteps on the graveled path died away. “I had best be going, too. These herbs need to put away properly in the stillroom.”
Rafael gave a low whistle for Hero, who had been sitting across from the pergola, the watching the proceeding while gnawing on his stick. “Amigo, go keep milady company as she walks to the house.” A quick hand signal punctuated the command.
The dog bounded over and nuzzled her hand.
“If your Father has need of a kennel master, perhaps he should consider hiring Rafael,” Jack suggested.
Kyra essayed a weak smile. “Mr. Greeley has an excellent rapport with all fauna and flora.” She hesitated. “I would invite you to come in for tea . . .” Another little nervous touch to the greenery. “However, I really should attend to these.”
“But of course,” said Jack heartily. “We had no intention of interrupting you. We were merely enjoying a constitutional stroll along the lake and thought we would head home by way of the upper pathway.”
“The walking is doing both of you a world of good. You are looking very well.”
Unfortunately, the same could not be said of her, observed Rafael. She looked ready to swoon on the spot.
“Stronger every day,” Jack cocked a jaunty salute as she and Hero headed off down the side path leading to the kitchen gardens.
“Something is, how do you say it in English, havey-cavey here,” Rafael said as soon as he was sure she was out of earshot.
“Aye, very havey-cavey,” agreed his cousin.
“That fellow frightens Lady Kyra.”
“I’ve always thought him to be a thoroughly dirty dish.”
Rafael wasn’t familiar with that bit of cant, but its meaning was clear enough.
“Have you indeed?” He lapsed into a thoughtful silence for several long moments.
“Then we shall have to discover what nefarious plans Mr. Matherton has up his sleeve.” A mirthless grin.
“Had they been up his trouser leg, they would have been revealed.
“Clever dog,” said Jack. “But we shall have to be even cleverer to best a scoundrel at his own sordid game.”
“And so we shall be,” vowed Rafael. “The predator may seek to prey on a lone lady, thinking she is helpless to defend herself, but he shall soon find there are sharp teeth and claws stalking his own worthless hide.”
“Your sentiments appear edged with a flash of fire.” A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Jack’s mouth. “It seems you have developed a rather warm friendship with Kyra.”
He felt a flush steal to his cheekbones. “I . . . that is, you . . .” Damnation. This was a deucedly awkward subject. “I am aware that you have a very high regard for the lady?”
“The very highest,” interrupted Jack. “I love her like . . .” There was a pause as he drew in a deep breath.
Rafael shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. By every code of honor, his cousin had first claim to Kyra’s affections. He would, of course, gracefully withdraw . . .
“Like a brother,” finished Jack, a twinkle lighting his still-sunken eyes. “You have my blessing—nay, my encouragement—to offer yourself as her two-footed Hero.”
“I don’t think she would accept me if I did,” he mumbled. “Yes, we have come to be friends.” A grimace. “At least I think we have. But she seems determined to keep me at a distance.”
“Hell’s bells, can you blame her?” exclaimed Jack. “She’s been badly hurt by a scoundrel. It’s up to you to win her trust and convince her that not all gentlemen are callous louts.”
“I am not sure how.”
“You’ve always been far too modest, my dear cuz. Trust me, I’ve watched women flutter around you like moths drawn to a flame.”
“All those women can’t hold a candle to Kyra. She is different,” said Rafael softly. “Special.”
“Of course she’s special.” Jack grinned. “She’s the lady you love.”
Love.
Rafael had shied away from admitting his feelings, even to himself. But the truth was, he did love Kyra. He loved her courage, her compassion, her strength. He loved her artistic spirit, her inquisitive intelligence, her luminous beauty. He loved her smile, her laugh, her grace.
Squaring his shoulders, he stared off into the gardens, watching the subtle play of sunlight and shadow bring the textures and colors of the plantings to life. “Si, I love her.”
“Thank God,” Jack cut a flourish through the air with his cane. “I thought I might have to knock some sense into your thick skull, and my arm is still a trifle weak.”
“But I fear?—”
“No buts, no fear,” counseled his cousin. “If you wish to be worthy of her, then fight for her. And vanquish her tormentor in the bargain. We are warriors, you and I. We know how to fight. And we know how to win.”