Chapter Seventeen
Much to Victoria’s relief, Faith began to eat with greater frequency in the coming days. Though she still suffered from fits of colic, she calmed when held close to Rafe’s chest. He seemed to be the only one able to comfort her in her worst moments.
Victoria secretly loved watching that large man carry that tiny baby against the broad expanse of his chest. Often, he carted her from room to room throughout the better part of the day, even writing letters with her securely nestled against him.
She suspected his arms had become so used to holding her that he sometimes forgot he was toting her around; she’d become another part of him.
Bit by bit, the color returned to the child’s cheeks.
When McCullom visited twice since that first morning after Victoria had woken in her husband’s arms, the physician seemed hopeful—if still cautious.
He recommended the continued comfort and physical contact with the babe, stating he’d taken the liberty of corresponding with a few colleagues and all agreed that such action likely served to provide the child security when she floundered.
“She has improved, there is no denying it,” McCullom said one afternoon after examining the baby.
Her cheeks had begun to fill out somewhat and take on the pleasant plumpness one expected from a child her age.
She was becoming more interactive and attentive to her surroundings, which were both very good signs, according to the physician.
“Should your schedule allow, I might suggest taking some fresh air in the country if she continues to increase in stability and strength. A stay away from the thick London air could further her progress. A change in scenery might entice her to try to explore, to learn to crawl, and eventually attempt to walk.”
This sparked a light in her husband’s eyes, the likes of which she’d not witnessed before.
He appeared almost boyish in his hopeful exuberance, and it was infectious.
He’d looked at her after McCullom took his leave; it was clear he was trying to maintain his composure, but the emotions were welling up inside of him.
“Did you hear that? She is doing well,” he said with a grin so broad it was almost comical.
“Yes, I was standing right beside you,” Victoria replied, unable to completely stifle her giggle.
“What do you think?”
“About?”
“A stay in the country.”
“You desire my opinion on the recommendation?” She had been unprepared for him to do so, as if she had an equal say in the well-being of their household—a group of people slowly beginning to feel more and more like a family.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” His tone was incredulous, as if he’d not once considered not asking after her thoughts.
Whether or not his aim was intentional, it made Victoria feel like a partner in their marriage.
It was also another example of how something in him had switched since the morning she’d woken in his arms, as if he’d slowly realized that he no longer had to shoulder every decision, every hardship, alone.
That he did not have to be the only one who cared.
He couldn’t have known how much that meant to her; it felt as if she was being allowed into her proper role.
She felt appreciated. She felt respected.
Victoria swallowed hard. “I think it is a brilliant idea.”
So, together, they agreed to rent a country house in Kent where he knew some of the families in the area.
In fact, Mr. Stratford’s family’s country seat was only a few miles away from the house they and the solicitors selected for their stay.
The home itself was chosen carefully. Though funds were no longer an issue, neither of them felt the need to waste the money and effort to rent out and staff a grand estate.
Rafe desired just enough space for a small loyal staff in addition to them and the children.
Victoria requested enough land for the children to roam and explore freely, perhaps some gardens where May might pick some flowers, and a pond where Dominic might learn how to fish.
They both felt it would likely be beneficial to all the children to take the country air and enjoy the freedom. London had parks, but they were not the same as being outside the city’s boundaries.
In the end, they selected a property called The Cottage, though its dimensions lent themselves more to a small Tudor-era estate than a quaint cottage.
Four bedchambers and plenty of property for outdoor air, bordered by sheep fields and a manmade fishing pond that was stocked each season, meant all of the requirements were met.
With McCullom’s final approval of Faith’s health, the household was packed up, and they traveled to Kent.
The children, unaware of the catalyst, were thrilled to have a holiday. Rafe had confided, somewhat abashedly, that the children had not left London since coming into his care. As a bachelor, he’d had little reason to abandon the delights and entertainments of the city.
“And there had been the little matter of your need to find a wealthy bride,” Victoria had added drily, not thinking about the words before they sprang from her lips.
She’d been distracted by selecting some reading materials from what remained of the sparse Blackwood library.
Her eyes flew to Rafe. She hadn’t meant the words maliciously; her irreverent sense of humor had merely slipped out.
She’d spent the better part of the previous weeks considering that there were more important things than worrying about how her marriage had come to be and feeling sorry for herself.
She was well and truly wedded, she was quickly falling in love with the children, and she was quite liking the new sides to Rafe she was experiencing.
He’d married her for her fortune, but she didn’t think even he was as good an actor as to continue to perpetuate a facade in even his most vulnerable moments. They enjoyed each other’s company.
Following her assertion, two terrible, tense heartbeats passed where she and Rafe merely stared at one another.
Then, he laughed.
Any remaining strain left his beautiful face and his bark of laughter was like music to her ears, lightening the air in a house that had been too long fraught with unease. She was relieved that he hadn’t interpreted what she’d said as a snipe.
“I suppose that is the truth of it,” he replied with a smile.
“There aren’t many heiresses frolicking through the Kentish sheep fields.
” He closed the space between them until his front was so close to her back that Victoria could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
He stretched up and plucked the book she’d been eyeing from the shelf just out of reach above her head before dangling it before her face.
He leaned forward until his cheek was nearly pressed to hers and murmured, “Irreverent minx.” He dropped the book into her hands and stepped away.
“We leave in two hours; will you be prepared by then?”
Victoria’s skin rotated through a cycle of heat and chills; she was rendered mute, and all she could do to reply was execute a jerky nod.
She was still trying to compose herself when the butler arrived bearing a sealed letter for her.
Handing him her selection of books and requesting that they be added to the luggage that had yet to make its way to Kent, she accepted the letter and was pleased to recognize her brother’s bold handwriting.
She’d previously written to her father and brother advising them of their movement and her hope that she would see them in person again before her father’s return to America.
In reply, Luke had reassured her that their father would not leave without saying his goodbyes in person.
As it happened, Luke would also be traveling in the vicinity of their rented home on his way to the southern coast for a meeting.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she dashed off to her rooms to pen a hasty reply.
Knowing her brother, he was deeply entrenched in work and she’d likely not receive a reply by the time they departed for the country—the letter she held in her hands was already in response to a note she’d sent him days earlier.
She scrawled a hasty invitation for him to join them at The Cottage, telling herself that Rafe would not mind.
She looked forward to showing Luke how her life had evolved, of proving to him that—despite its bumps—her marriage was working out.
She was also excited for him to meet the children.
Purposefully omitting their existence from her note, she did not wish for Luke to draw any unfavorable conclusions before meeting them in person and hearing their story from her mouth.
She finished her message telling Luke that, though she missed him terribly, she knew business would come before all else with him.
If his schedule permitted, she hoped they might at least have a short visit because he was long overdue for a bit of needling from his younger sister.
“It’s as pretty as a painting!” Victoria sighed in pleasure as Rafe helped her down from their coach. Her blue eyes were wide with joy and wonder as she drank in the sight of their rented country home for the next couple of months.
It had been a long while since Rafe had traveled this far outside of London—not only because he hadn’t had the need to, but also because he hadn’t had the funds to do so.
As they’d strayed further from the city, he’d been reminded of how beautiful bucolic scenery might be.
The colors were astonishingly vivid, the air was noticeably clearer, and the excited chatter of May and Dominic was as infectious as their heightened spirits when they pressed their faces to the small carriage windows and drank in the passing scenery.