Chapter 26
“Tread carefully, Pamela,” Raph instructed sternly. “Remember what I taught you.”
Pamela edged towards the stallion with cautious steps, her eyes wide with awe as his tail flicked, but his stance was steady. Her small hand reached out, trembling slightly, until her palm gently met the white star on his forehead, soft as a whisper.
The stallion snorted. A warm gust from his nostrils ruffled her raven curls, and she gasped, yanking her hand back with a delighted giggle that echoed through the stables.
Her joy warmed Raph, but he could not fully enjoy the moment, as he had to remain alert so that the beast wouldn’t hurt her.
His heart clenched, his instinct to shield her warring with the urge to let her shine. He clenched his fist as he fought to temper the fierce need to pull her back to safety.
“He’s a spirited creature. Keep your touch light, as I showed you.”
“All right,” Pamela whispered, not taking her eyes off the chestnut horse.
The scent of hay and leather grounded Raph as he watched her reach out again and run a small, trembling hand along the sleek stallion’s flank. Her eyes were bright with a joy he hadn’t seen in years.
“There you go, nice and steady,” he said proudly.
She grinned at him. A ray of sun crept through the nearby window and lit her ebony curls. For a moment, his chest tightened as he remembered her mother.
Pamela is fearless, like her. Josephine would’ve been proud.
Camelia’s influence had reshaped their world in ways Raph hadn’t foreseen. Without her fiery persistence, he and Pamela might still be trapped in their silent distance.
His thoughts drifted to her, the memory of her lips parting eagerly for his kiss, soft and pliant, igniting a deep-seated hunger within him that he could barely contain.
Yet, despite Lord Montague’s unwelcome intrusion, her presence and anger had stirred something deep within him, coaxing him to confess the painful truth about Pamela’s parentage.
“Father!” Pamela’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She glanced at him, a grin plastered on her face. “I think he’s getting used to me.”
“He sure is,” Raph agreed.
“He’s beautiful.” She stared at the stallion with starry eyes. “I cannot wait to ride him.”
“Soon, Pamela. He just needs to be comfortable with you as much as you need to be comfortable with him.”
She nodded earnestly and looked at her equine companion with fierce understanding.
Raph’s lips twitched, a rare softness threatening to break through his usual cold facade. “We’ll start with a gentler mare for your lessons. Do you have any favorites yet?”
She moved to a white mare. “Susy is my favorite, so far. She’s calm but… lively when she’s outdoors. I like her.”
Raph raised an eyebrow. “Susy?”
Pamela immediately blushed and lowered her gaze. “Camelia and I named them, Father. It’s… It’s short for Susanna.”
Raph let out a bark of laughter. The rich sound rang out in the open space and made her stiffen. She stared at him wide-eyed. He had never laughed with her before.
“Well then, let’s go see Susy.” His smile never wavered as they walked to the white mare.
Raph ruffled her mane, causing her to neigh, and Pamela could barely contain her excitement at the sound.
“Susy, you say?” He turned to her with a smirk.
“Yes, Father. It was Camelia’s idea to name her that.” She let out a soft giggle.
“I’m curious, Pamela. What did you name the stallion?” His boots crunched on the straw as he collected a bucket of water for the mare.
“Oh, we stuck with Chestnut for him because it was so easy to remember.”
“Ah, I see, I see.” Raph rubbed his chin as he watched the white mare slurp up some water. “Susy is a good choice. She’s calm and steady, like you.”
Like her mother, too.
His throat tightened as morbid memories flooded his mind. Josephine’s laughter, her gentle eyes that were so like Pamela’s.
“You have her eyes, you know. Your mother’s. They were hazel, like the forest at dusk.”
Pamela’s hand stilled on the mare.
“What is it, Pamela?”
“Nothing, Father.” Her voice shook. “It’s just that you… you never talk about her.”
Raph’s chest ached. His promise to protect Pamela from the past and the truth pressed heavily upon him. Perhaps Camelia was right, and Pamela was stronger than he thought.
“I should talk more about her, shouldn’t I?” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Come, let’s sit.”
Pamela followed him quietly to a nearby oak bench. They sat heavily on it and enjoyed a moment of silence, before Raph spoke.
“What would you like to know about your mother?”
Pamela’s fingers fidgeted in her lap. “You mean it? You’ll really talk about her?” she asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” Raph responded carefully.
“What was she like?”
“She was… kind. She loved horses, like you, but she never enjoyed horse riding.” He chuckled at the memory of Josephine falling off a horse and landing on a stack of hay.
“What is it, Father?” Pamela’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“Just a fond memory of her falling off a horse.” He shook his head.
“Did she get hurt?”
Raph saw the panic in her eyes and felt his heart clench.
“You have her compassion, too, Pamela. And no, she did not get hurt. We hadn’t even left the stables. But she immediately gave up on horse riding after that incident.”
A spark of warmth passed between them, and their laughter mingled. Raph’s heart swelled as he treasured the moment.
“What else did she enjoy?”
“She enjoyed sitting in the fields, watching the horses run and the birds fly, sketching their grace.”
God, it hurts to speak about her.
“She sketched too?” Pamela asked eagerly.
“Yes, you’ve got that in you, as well. I was delightfully surprised when I heard of your many talents.”
Pamela’s eyes glistened as she listened to him. “Did she… love me? Before she died?”
Raph’s heart twisted.
She would have loved you fiercely, Pamela, even though Montague left her shattered.
“She loved you more than anything,” he said steadily, despite the storm raging within him. “I truly believe that you were her light.”
Pamela smiled. It was a small but real smile. “I wish I had met her. What else was she like? Did she laugh a lot?”
Raph leaned back against the bench, and his thoughts briefly drifted to Camelia and her unquenchable fire. Her laughter rang louder in his mind than any other. If she were with him, she would have insisted on telling Pamela the truth she deserved.
But Camelia was occupied with household errands, and Raph took on the duty of personally teaching Pamela to ride. His protective instincts surged, insisting that he be the only one to guide her on the trails and make certain she was always safe.
Their time alone in the stables will become a quiet ritual, each moment helping him grow accustomed to connecting with her. Raph saw not just the girl she was, but also the spirited young woman she was becoming.
“Your mother laughed like the world couldn’t touch her,” he said softly. “She was bright and free. The total opposite of me.”
That earned him a laugh from Pamela.
“You laugh like her sometimes, when you think I’m not watching.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You watch me? I thought… you were always busy. With the estate and the rules.”
Guilt pricked at him.
“I’ve kept you at arm’s length, thinking it would protect you. But instead, it has driven a wedge between us. Please know, Pamela, that I’m always watching over you. I want you to be safe and happy. That’s why I have set so many rules. But I see now that I’ve been too strict.”
“It’s all right, Father. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
His guilt gnawed harder at him.
“Tell me, what else do you want? Besides horse riding?”
“I’m happy as is, Father. The horse riding and art lessons are all I really wanted. Although I—”
Raph turned to her when she stopped talking. “What is it, Pamela?”
“I do like spending time with you, Father. I was wondering if we could have more days like this?”
Raph longed to pull her into an embrace, but the unfamiliar urge to show such open affection held him back. Instead, he rested a gentle hand on her small shoulder and offered her a smile that carried the weight of his unspoken love.
“Of course we will,” he said softly, tentatively wiping away a stray tear that rolled down her cheek. The act was foreign to him, but it felt right. “That is, if you promise to draw as much as you like and show me sometime. I’d love to see your work.”
Pamela’s eyes widened with joy. “You really mean that?”
“Am I one to jest, Pamela?”
“No, Father,” she answered with an exaggerated shake of her head, causing her raven curls to fall loose. “I… I’ll bring them tomorrow. If that’s all right?”
Raph nodded. “Tomorrow, then. And we’ll talk more about your mother, if you want. She’d be proud of you, Pamela.”
I’m proud of you.
Pamela’s smile grew. “I’d like to know more about her. Thank you for this and for being here.”
Raph’s heart swelled. His thoughts returned to Camelia and her relentless push to break his walls.
“Go on, Pamela.” He cleared his throat and stood up. “Let’s get that mare ready.”
“Truly, Father?” Pamela gaped.
“Yes. What was her name again? Savannah?”
“Her name is Susy,” she said through a fit of giggles.
Raph’s smile grew as he watched her approach the white mare, her eyes alight with barely contained joy.
She reached out, her small hand gently stroking the mare’s forehead, then circled the beast with deliberate care.
Her fingers trailed lightly along the mare’s sleek shoulder and back; it was a reverent touch that spoke of her growing confidence.
“When will I be ready to ride Chestnut?” She glanced at the sleek stallion who stood proudly in his stall.
“Not today, Pamela..”
Pamela’s face fell; disappointment was etched in her youthful features.
Raph cursed himself inwardly. “Don’t look so glum, Pamela. We’re starting today, just not with a gallop.”
“You’ll teach me yourself?” she asked with hopeful eyes.