shoulders sagged again. “I’m afraid you simply don’t understand.”
She left the study. Mitch’s heart ached watching her go. She was right. He didn’t understand.
Chapter Seven
R achel couldn’t muster enough of an appetite for supper, Chelsey hadn’t returned from her friend’s house and this was one of Noah’s days to lurk on the staircase, so Rachel told Cook what to prepare for Mitch and went into the rear garden.
Evening shadows slid across the green grass as Rachel settled onto a bench surrounded by blooming shrubs. She looked at the tablet she’d brought outside with her. All afternoon she’d tried to work on the luncheon arrangements. She had yet to accomplish anything.
Of course there were lots of other things on her mind. Her father, for one. Dr. Matthews had come by the house today, as he did several times each week. She’d pressed him for details but the doctor had said nothing new, nothing hopeful. It irritated Rachel that he was always so evasive.
Though she hated to admit it to herself, she’d enjoyed the quiet of the afternoon, made possible by Chelsey’s absence. Her younger sister had no problem making her feelings known on each and every issue that crossed her path.
Unlike Noah. Though she’d seen him several times today, skulking through the upstairs hallway, peering over the railing and dawdling on the staircase when he thought no one was looking, he hadn’t spoken to Rachel. She’d learned months ago to ignore him on days like this.
Dr. Matthews had looked in on Noah, but the doctor had refused to answer any of Rachel’s questions about her brother. Everything was proceeding “as expected,” he’d assured her, though Rachel didn’t feel assured at all.
Her heart fluttered a bit as Mitch Kincade’s image floated into her mind. His presence here was unsettling, but Rachel didn’t know just how or why.
She did know that the big, strong, capable man had become completely flustered in the study this afternoon, pretending to read his ledger upside down. And it had brought on the strangest reaction in Rachel. She’d wanted to comfort him, make things better, see him without his shirt on—
Rachel gasped and shook her head at her own disconcerting thought. Yet that wasn’t as bad as this morning when he’d kissed her. Right there in the garden. For any neighbor who might be up at that hour to see. Or any of the servants who may have glanced out the window.
Rachel’s insides seemed to hum at the memory of Mitch leaning closer, his scent wafting over her, then his lips closing over hers. Was that recollection the reason she’d accomplished so little today? Could a kiss do that?
For an instant she considered discussing it discreetly with Claudia. She was officially engaged now. She might be willing to talk about men. She’d come to the house today showing off the gorgeous diamond and ruby ring Graham Bixby had presented her with, and given Rachel all the wonderful details of the upcoming nuptials.
Rachel sighed heavily as dusk settled over the garden. She was happy for Claudia. Happy and, perhaps, just the smallest bit—
The French doors that led inside opened, drawing Rachel’s attention. Mitch stepped out. Her heart gave an unexpected little jerk.
He stood on the porch for a moment, hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets, gazing out over the garden. He looked solid and strong standing in the dim light. After a moment, he spotted her. Rachel saw the quick intake of his breath, the straightening of his shoulders. He hesitated, glanced back inside as if deciding something, then walked over.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for not joining you for supper,” Rachel said. “I had Cook prepare one of my favorite dishes for you.”
“Nothing like a plate of vegetables after a hard day’s work,” Mitch said. “And fruit to top it off.”
She slid over a little on the bench. “Would you like to join me?”
He looked down at her for a long moment. Even from a distance she sensed the heat rolling off him.
He glanced at the tablet on her lap—at least, she thought it was the tablet he was looking at.
“I’m working on the luncheon preparations,” she said. He glanced again at the tablet, at the blank page staring up at both of them. “I’m not getting very far,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to put yourself through this, Rachel,” he said softly. “If your friends don’t understand that, then hell with them.”
Rachel gasped. The idea. The very idea. Could Mitch really mean that? She couldn’t imagine.
Of course, Mitch didn’t know the situation in its entirety. He didn’t know that Rachel’s father had married beneath himself when he married her mother. A woman from outside their elite social circle, a widow once married, with a young son.
Rachel had watched her mother struggle to be “good enough” in the eyes of Father’s friends. Always careful to do exactly the right thing. Always worried about what other people thought. With the best of intentions, she’d impressed upon Rachel to worry about the same things. The actions of one family member were a reflection on them all.
Her father never seemed to notice the subtle slights, the whispers that her mother endured; she’d been too proud to bring them to his attention. Rachel often wondered if his love had been worth it.
She placed her tablet aside and got to her feet. “I feel like a walk through the garden this evening.”
Mitch hesitated a moment, then fell in step beside her as they headed off across the lawn.
“I saw your friend here today,” he said. “Claudia.”
“She’s officially engaged now to the most perfect man,” Rachel said.
“You don’t sound very happy for her.”
She paused, surprised that Mitch picked up on the subtle tone in her voice. “I’m happy for her. Really.”
“But?”
“Well, maybe I’m just a little envious. Claudia’s life is perfect now.”
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