Chapter Seven #3
“You ride expertly, my dear and your drawings are exquisite,” Mrs. Potter hastened to assure her. Or perhaps to assure Rafe that her daughter was in possession of at least some of the expected accomplishments in a well-bred young lady.
Later during a game of whist, Kitty touched his sleeve. “What is that tune you are humming?”
Startled by her bold contact, Rafe pulled back. “Was I humming?”
“You were. Pretty tune. I’m not familiar with it.” She tilted her head to one side in a question.
Osanne’s song had been playing over in his head since he spied the pianoforte, but he hadn’t realized he’d been humming it. “Something I heard while traveling.”
She eyed him as if she suspected more to that story, but refrained from asking. She had grown up. The younger Kitty Bug or Peanut would have pressed him until he satisfied her curiosity.
The evening passed pleasantly. The Potters bade them a good night, Kitty giving him a particularly dazzling smile, and left with the promise of future evenings together.
Mother let out a happy sigh and practically rubbed her hands together. “Well, I am persuaded that Kitty Potter is a sheer delight, is she not? Such an accomplished and lovely young lady.”
“Indeed,” Father agreed. “Pretty, always happy, a respectable dowry. Why, any man would be fortunate to snatch her up before someone else does.”
Rafe gave them a quelling glare. “You are both being far too subtle. I have no notion what you’re hoping I’ll do about Miss Potter.”
Pulling off his cravat, he marched up the stairs. Only two months had passed since he had basked in Osanne’s soothing presence. Ten more until she reappeared. Dare he go to her again? Surely seeing her every year would do him no good.
After everyone else had retired, Rafe went to Father’s library and studied the books of English aristocracy.
Only a single vague mention of the surname Jewell appeared with some distant connection to the Duke of Suttenburg on the maternal side and the Earl of Tarrington on the paternal side. No helpful details appeared.
Over the next few weeks, Rafe vacillated between vowing to stay away from Madding Hollow and counting down the weeks until he could return.
Though Rafe’s family and the Potters enjoyed many social interactions, Rafe carefully kept his attention toward Kitty polite, but never focused enough to be accused of raising the young lady’s expectations.
She was bright and lively and pretty. More importantly, she was a living, breathing mortal.
His parents were right; if he were smart, he would court her.
He could not look at her without seeing Benjamin.
Nor could he stop comparing her to Osanne and finding her lacking.
Spring created the perfect excuse for Rafe to make his escape. He bade his family farewell and saddled his horse, Solo, for the next leg of his journey to visit the cavalrymen who had served under him.
As he swung up into the saddle, Kitty came down the lane on foot. The cool air and her vigorous activity had put a sparkle in her eyes and a bloom in her cheeks.
“Good morning!” she called out. “I feared I’d missed you.”
Rafe dismounted and walked toward her holding Solo’s reins.
She parted the edges of her cloak and held up a handmade scarf. “I made this for you.”
He blinked. “Oh. Erm, thank you.”
Surprised, Rafe extended a hand to accept the gift, but she reached up to put it around him. He lowered his head to make it easier for her. She gently wrapped it around his neck, leaving the edges dangling in front. At the hem, she had embroidered the words, “All Journeys Lead Home.”
She spoke with her usual boldness. “I understand you must complete this self-appointed mission, but I want you to know that I’ll be here when you return.”
“Miss Potter....”
“I’m no longer Kitty?”
“Miss Potter,” he emphasized. “It was never my intention to give you false hope.”
She held up her hand as if making a vow. “No hope received, Rafe. Just stay warm, be well, and return when you’ve finished your rambles.”
She smoothed the ends of the scarf down on his chest. Her touch startled him. No other woman had touched him in a long time. It felt strange and foreign. She looked up with a smile. Something vulnerable entered her lively eyes. As if catching herself, she stepped back.
As kindly as he could, he said, “You deserve the very best of men. I’m not certain I will ever make a fitting husband for anyone.”
She affected a careless pose. “What makes you think I want you for a husband, Rafe? You’d probably put frogs in my teacup and pepper in my scones. Now, off with you. I shall wave as you ride away.”
Kitty had always put on a brave face, even when afraid or disappointed. As an adult, she did it more subtly.
Rafe swung up onto the saddle and urged Solo to a canter. At the gatehouse, he glanced back. She was, indeed, waving.
At a distance, she looked less like Benjamin and more like the girl she had been all those years ago. But more womanly, now.
He waved to her and resumed his quest to visit and aid all his former troopers if he could, and perhaps one day find a measure of peace.