Page 46 of A Captain For Clarissa
Lucia placed a comforting hand on Isabella’s shoulder. “Your brother is right, my dear. We must be strong, for each other and for Clarissa. She would want us to carry on.”
Isabella’s shoulders slumped, her fiery spirit momentarily quelled by the weight of their circumstances. Rafael drew both women into a fierce embrace, his voice rough with unshed tears.
“We will endure this, as we have endured so much already. Our love for each other, for this land, will sustain us. And perhaps, if God is kind, fate may yet bring Clarissa back to us someday.”
But even as he spoke the words, Rafael could not bring himself to believe them. For how could fate be so cruel as to bring Clarissa into his life, only to rip her away just as he realised the depth of his love for her? No, he thought bitterly, fate was not kind. And he was a fool to ever believe otherwise.
Rafael stood stoically on the steps of the estate, watching as Marianne and Alex helped Clarissa into the waiting carriage. His heart ached with each step she took, each inch of distance that grew between them. He longed to run to her, to gather her in hisarms and beg her to stay. But he remained rooted in place, duty and honour forbidding him from acting on his deepest desires.
Marianne turned back, her eyes meeting Rafael’s with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. She approached him, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. “Rafael, are you certain about this? It’s not too late for you to speak to her.”
He swallowed hard, his voice strained as he replied, “I am certain, Marianne. Clarissa deserves a life of comfort and security, one that I cannot provide. I am grateful that she has you and Alex to watch over her.”
Alex joined them, placing a firm hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “You are a good man, Rafael. Never doubt that. And if you ever change your mind, know that you will always have friends in England.”
Rafael nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He watched as the couple returned to the carriage, their final farewell hanging heavily in the air. Clarissa’s eyes met his through the carriage window, a world of unspoken emotions passing between them. In that moment, Rafael felt his resolve waver, the urge to go to her nearly overwhelming him.
But then the carriage jolted forward, the horses’ hooves clattering against the cobblestones. Rafael stood motionless as the carriage carried Clarissa away, the distance between them growing with each passing second. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her all the things he had been too cowardly to say. But the words died on his lips, their fight left unresolved, their future together nothing more than a dream that could never be.
As the carriage disappeared from view, Rafael felt a profound sense of loss, as though a part of his very soul had been ripped away. He closed his eyes, the image of Clarissa’s face burned into his memory, a bittersweet reminder of all that he had found and lost in the span of a few short months.
He loved Clarissa, with every fibre of his being, with a passion that consumed him like a raging inferno. And now, he had lost her, almost certainly forever.
I should have proposed to her weeks ago. In Florence, probably. We would have been married by now.
The realisation hit him like a physical blow, his knees nearly buckling under the weight of his emotions. He braced himself against the stone wall of the courtyard, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to compose himself. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to his own heart? He had let his pride and his sense of duty come between them, and now he would pay the price for his stubborn foolishness.
But even as his heart shattered into a million pieces, Rafael knew that he could not abandon his responsibilities to chase after Clarissa. His family, the people who depended on him - they all needed him to be strong, to be the leader that they had come to rely on. He could not simply walk away from his duties, no matter how much his soul cried out for Clarissa’s touch.
With a heavy sigh, Rafael pushed himself away from the wall, squaring his shoulders as he turned to face the castle. He would have to find a way to carry on, to bury his heartbreak deep within himself and focus on the tasks at hand. But even as he tookthat first step forward, he knew that a part of him would always belong to Clarissa, that he would carry the memory of their love with him for the rest of his days.
As Rafael entered the castle with dragging steps, he was greeted by the sight of Isabella and the Conte di Bardolino, their faces alight with joy and excitement. The Conte stepped forward, his expression serious as he met Rafael’s gaze.
“Rafael,” he began, his voice low and earnest. “I come to you today not just as a friend, but as a man deeply in love with your sister. I humbly ask for your blessing to take Isabella’s hand in marriage, to cherish and protect her for all of my days.”
Rafael blinked, his mind struggling to process the Conte’s words. He had been so consumed by his own heartbreak, so lost in his thoughts of Clarissa, that he had almost forgotten about the budding romance between his sister and the young Italian nobleman.
He glanced at Isabella, saw the hopeful expression on her face, the way her eyes sparkled with love and anticipation. How could he deny her this happiness, especially after all that she had suffered?
Swallowing hard, Rafael forced a smile to his lips, his voice rough with emotion as he replied, “Mario, I can think of no man more worthy of my sister’s hand than you. You have my blessing, and my deepest congratulations to you both.”
Isabella let out a cry of joy, rushing forward to embrace her brother. “Oh, Rafael, thank you!” she exclaimed, her voicemuffled against his chest. “I know that this must be difficult for you, so soon after Clarissa’s departure, but your support means everything to me.”
Rafael held his sister tight, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. He knew that he should be happy for her, that he should be celebrating this joyous occasion. But all he could think about was Clarissa, and the future that he had let slip through his fingers.
“I am happy for you, truly,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Isabella. And I know that Mario will be a loving and devoted husband to you.”
As the Conte and Isabella embraced, their faces radiant with love and joy, Rafael felt a pang of envy and regret. He had had that same chance at happiness, that same opportunity to build a life with the woman he loved. But he had let his own fears and doubts get in the way, and now he would have to live with the consequences of his choices.
With a heavy heart, Rafael turned away from the happy couple, his mind already racing with thoughts of the future. He would throw himself into his work, into rebuilding his family’s estate and securing his sister’s happiness. And perhaps, in time, he would find a way to heal the wound that Clarissa’s absence had left in his soul.
Rafael stood on the terrace, watching as the servants hurried to and fro, their arms laden with flowers and ribbons. The air was thick with the scent of roses and jasmine, and the sound of laughter and chatter filled the courtyard below.
He forced a smile onto his face as Isabella approached, her eyes shining with excitement. “Oh, Rafael,” she exclaimed, taking his hands in hers. “Can you believe it? In just a few short days, I will be a married woman!”
Rafael swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight. “I am so happy for you, Isabella,” he managed to say, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. “Mario is a lucky man.”
Isabella’s smile faltered slightly, and she searched his face with concern. “Rafael, are you all right? You seem troubled.”
