Page 38 of Margins of Love
Rachel nodded with a wistful smile.
“Please wait. Wait here, I will return in a moment.” He gestured with both hands to stay put.
She nodded, pinned down by her mother’s unrelentless stare.
Fave shot off into the house and returned almost immediately, a little out of breath. “Please, take this. I would have boxed it had I known it would be a parting gift.” He handed her a leather-bound book with embossed vines.
Rachel looked at Fave, puzzled, after she inspected what was clearly an old and well-loved hand-me-down.
“This is the book my grandfather read for me. The one I mentioned to you.”
Rachel gasped.
“I would have got you a new imprint, but I am afraid it could not be arranged on such short notice. Please, take mine with my well wishes for a happy birthday.” Fave washed over the emotional parting gift with all the gentile mannerisms he could muster.
Stella remained silent, but her gaze had softened. She merely watched the exchange.
“I remember…” Rachel’s voice broke off as she swallowed a tear.
“Just remember me,” Fave said softly.
“Hrm. Hrm. Pardon me.” Ilan coughed to interrupt the moment. Fave stepped aside and Ilan entered the carriage.
CHAPTER27
Meanwhile, in front of Brockton House, Fave watched the Newman’s carriage disappear in the distance.
“Has she left?” Arnold came to Fave’s side.
He nodded. His cousin put his hand on his shoulder. Fave closed his eyes at the pain stinging his body.
“Good riddance.” Eve stepped onto the Estate’s entrance. “I came to let you know that our hostess’s gracious silence comes with a condition.” Her voice was stern. Eve Pearler, as the ton knew and feared.
Fave took a deep breath and braced himself for the blow. “What is it, Mother?” He assumed his London tone in response to his mother’s.
“Carol feels that it would be best for you two to stay apart,” Eve all but snarled with disdain.
Fave curled his hands into fists so tight his knuckles hurt.
“Forever,” Eve added.
It hit Fave like a punch in the stomach. He did not even know where Rachel lived. Now, Bustle-Smith would not tell him. London was large, and Rachel would be difficult to find, unless she came to Almack’s if she could still show her compromised face there. He loathed the Wednesday balls. Fave let out a resonating groan, but Eve no longer heard him.
Her decisive steps faded across the crushed stones. He did not turn to see the doors close behind him, but he heard them.
“What happened there?” Arnold asked.
“She caught us in the orangerie last night,” Fave explained.
“I see. Did you, ehm…”
“No! Of course not!” Fave shouted.
Arnold nodded knowingly, but then the oddest thing happened. Fave gasped for air as if it had been cut off. Arnold came closer and felt Fave’s angry heat turn into a tamed cool, similar to a horse that had been broken in.
A moment of silence passed. Arnold stood by Fave. Their bond of camaraderie as evident as their shared heritage.
“I never thought… I never expected…” Fave held his breath. He could not cry in front of Arnold. Although his cousin knew he was not the rake everyone saw in him, he would not shed any tears over a girl of the ton. What did he know about her? Did he truly know her?
