Page 41 of A Captain For Clarissa
“Very well,” she agreed at last, her voice softening. “But promise me you’ll be careful, Rafael. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
He reached out to take her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I promise, Clarissa. I won’t let any harm come to our family - or to you. I swear it on my life.”
But despite Rafael’s best efforts, the saboteur remained elusive. Each morning, they would return to the house exhausted and discouraged, only to find fresh damage to the vines. It was as if their enemy was a ghost, slipping in and out unseen, leaving only destruction in their wake.
As the days stretched on with no sign of the culprit, Rafael’s frustration mounted. Clarissa could see it in the tense set of his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides as he surveyed the ruined vines.
“I don’t understand it,” he growled, raking a hand through his hair. “How can they keep evading us like this? It’s as if they know our every move before we make it. How can they know where we will patrol, and when? We make a new plan each evening!”
Clarissa laid a gentle hand on his arm, feeling the coiled tension beneath his skin. “We’re doing everything we can, Rafael. Perhaps... perhaps it’s time to accept that this may be beyond our control.”
He turned to look at her, his sea-green eyes stormy with emotion. “I can’t accept that, Clarissa. This land, this vineyard... it’s my family’s legacy. I won’t let it be destroyed by some cowardly saboteur.”
“I know,” she murmured, her heart aching for him. “But we can’t go on like this forever. We need to find another way.”
Rafael sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You’re right, of course. I just... I feel so helpless. What kind of man am I if I can’t even protect what’s mine?”
Clarissa cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You are a good man, Rafael de Silva. A brave, honourable, loving man. And we will find a way through this, together. I promise you that.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he drew strength from her presence. When he opened them again, there was a new resolve there, a glimmer of hope amid the despair.
“Together,” he repeated, his voice rough with emotion. “I like the sound of that.”
Across the sun-dappled vineyard, Clarissa spotted Isabella and Conte Bardolino deep in conversation. Mario was gesticulating animatedly, no doubt sharing more of his vast knowledge of viticulture. Isabella, her dark hair coming loose from its pins, was listening intently, her eyes bright with keen interest.
Clarissa nudged Rafael gently. “Look at those two. Thick as thieves, aren’t they?”
Rafael followed her gaze, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Indeed. I confess, I had my reservations about the Conte at first, but he’s proven himself to be a true friend.”
“More than a friend, I think,” Clarissa murmured, watching as Isabella laid a hand on the Conte’s arm, her laughter carrying across the vineyard. “Have you noticed the way they look at each other?”
Rafael’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t think...?”
“I do,” Clarissa grinned. “I think Mario is quite smitten with your sister. And unless I’m very much mistaken, the feeling is entirely mutual.”
“Hm.” Rafael looked uncertain. “Isabella is only just seventeen…”
“And Mario is barely twenty,” Clarissa pointed out. “I think they are very well suited, Rafael. Don’t you? I know your mother agrees with me.”
“Does she, indeed!” His brows flew up, and he looked again at Mario and Isabella. “Perhaps I should have a conversation with my mother on the matter. Before things become any more serious.”
“You should probably talk to Isabella about it too,” Clarissa pointed out teasingly. “She does, after all, have a mind and opinions of her own.”
“You are correct, indeed.” Rafael bowed over her hand. “If you will excuse me. Isabella!” He called to his sister, who sighed and rolled her eyes, but left the Conte’s side obediently to come to him, and the two of them made their way back up to the castle.
“Clarissa.” Mario came to her side and offered his arm, and she put her hand on it with a smile.
“Thank you. I’m tired, and it’s a steep walk back up there!”
“But worth the view when one arrives.”
“Indeed. A different sort of beauty to your home on the lake, but lovely nonetheless, don’t you think?”
“A place I am growing to love almost as much as Bardolino,” Mario agreed, his eyes fixed on the brother and sister walking ahead of them. “Tell me… do I have a chance, Clarissa?”
“A chance?” she queried.
“Of pressing my suit successfully?”
