Page 48 of The Rake's Bride
“I did not mean to frighten you,” he apologized. “We will travel the rest of the way at a more sedate pace.” His thumb stroked her upper arm in a comforting pattern.
Already, she was beginning to enjoy the journey much more. With the roofless gig, she could appreciate the sights and sounds of the countryside now that it was not a blur. The air smelledof warm earth and flowers; the scenery was beautiful when she wasn’t traveling at a breakneck pace.
“This really is quite lovely when one is not in fear for her life,” she commented lightly, tilting her head back to watch a bird swoop over their heads. Then, she realized what she’d said and looked back at her husband. “Not that I believe you would intentionally place either of us in danger.”
He chuffed. “Of course.”
Several minutes passed, filled by the rhythmic thud of the horse’s hooves on the packed earth, the creaking of the gig beneath them, and the sounds of nature. The tower of the town’s medieval church gradually began to break the horizon over a hill in the distance. At the pace they were traveling, it would likely be another hour before they arrived at their destination.
“Where did you learn to drive a gig so well?” Victoria finally asked. Was it her imagination, or did he flinch at her question?
No, she hadn’t imagined it.
His silence in the wake of her question confirmed that she’d inadvertently struck some tender nerve.
Finally, he answered, his voice low and rough, “Alice’s husband.”
His sister’s husband had taught him how to manage a gig—the same man whose life and that of his wife had been cut tragically short in a carriage accident. Of course, he hadn’t been the driver during the incident since no lord steered his own carriage, but her question doubtless unlocked myriad confusing memories, pleasant and tragic, warm and grief-stricken. She reached up and covered his hand with hers in an effort to convey that she hadn’t intended to dredge up anything painful, and he surprised her by continuing his explanation.
“I was still fairly young when they married—not yet at University. Alice rescued me from my father’s black moods every chance she had, though it was far less often than both of usliked. She did her best to give me all the love and warmth my father’s house lacked. Her husband recognized how important our relationship was, and he embraced me as a brother.
“He purchased a new gig one summer, and I was enamored of the thing. It was beautiful—black lacquered with gilt details and his family crest painted on the rear. He had the most beautiful black mare to pull it, too. I was so bloody jealous.”
“Jealous?”
He emitted a little derisive snort. “Not only did the man have my sister’s love and attention, but he did not have to worry about how empty his family’s coffers were. He needn’t concern himself with the scrimping and scrounging I was already feeling even at that age. And I was an annoying young buck who longed for the best, though I knew the future of the Blackwood title grew bleaker with every year my father fell more deeply into his grief and apathy.
“Her husband saw this and invited me on a drive one afternoon. I nearly declined out of sheer petulance, but Alice convinced me otherwise, thank God.
“We drove from London and, little prig I was, I did everything in my power to not enjoy myself. As soon as we reached the country roads, however, he gave the horse its head and weflew. I was convinced the gig had sprouted wings and we’d begun to soar!”
Victoria smiled at his reminiscing. The tension was slowly draining from his body as he spoke of the memories, old pain gradually giving way to something gentler.
“It was the most exhilarating thing I’d ever experienced,” Rafe continued. “When we finally slowed to a stop, he handed me the reins and offered to give me driving lessons.” His voice broke slightly on the last word, but he managed to regain his composure. “I felt so fortunate to be a part of his life with Alice.He didn’t need to be as kind to me as he was. He was a very good man.”
“It sounds like it,” Victoria said gently. “And Alice was good as well.”
“I didn’t deserve them.”
“Rafe—”
“I didn’t. For all their efforts, I still turned out like this. They could not completely protect me from my father’s loathing. I’d tried for years to make him love me, to praise me, to notice me as someone other than the accident that had killed his beloved wife, but nothing worked. So, I think I did the only thing I could do: I began behaving in a way that would earn me his ire. At least that made it feel more justified when he spat his venom and curses.”
Victoria pulled her lips between her teeth and bit down. Tears were beginning to burn the backs of her eyes and the last thing she wanted was to break down there in the gig on their way to the village.
“I caused trouble,” Rafe continued, shifting his seat. “I chased countless skirts. I did whatever I could to draw attention to myself and have my name listed in as many tabloids as possible.”
“So your father would see you…” Victoria guessed sadly.
Rafe’s mouth thinned into a fine line; there was a brief pause before he said, “And, now, they’re all gone. My father. Alice. Her husband. And I am all that the children have left. They deserve better than me. They should have had their parents rather than me as their guardian.”
“Rafe, stop!” Victoria snapped and grabbed his arm. This innocent inquiry had somehow devolved into abusing his character, and she could not listen to it any longer. She could not stand by while he did that to himself. “The children are lucky to have you—do not shake your head! It is a tragedy the way your sister and her husband lost their lives; they will be missedforever. But it isalsoa tragedy that you were raised by a father like the one you had.” She watched a muscle tic in his jaw and knew he did not want to listen to her, but she had to make him. “Mourn the loss but also take pride in how you have handled the situation. You never had the example of a home that you should have, yet your instincts when it comes to the children are excellent. You gave them a home, and you have filled it with so much love. Do not speak so negatively about what you have accomplished.” She grasped his hand and laced their fingers together tightly. “And look forward to whatwewill accomplish.”
He glanced down at their joined hands before returning his attention to the path ahead. “Do you lump our marriage into one of those accomplishments?” he asked in a tone barely loud enough to be heard above the racket of the horse and tack.
She considered his question. A few weeks prior, she might not have. In fact, she’d likely have been insulted to be considered a pawn in a grander plan. Now, knowing her husband as she did, she respected his decision. There was no malice, only a desperate need to provide for his wards. Although he’d never been afforded the warmth of a consistent family, he knew what needed to be done, and he’d done it all at great sacrifice to the lifestyle he’d enjoyed.
“I do,” she answered lightly. His fingers squeezed hers; his lips pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.
