Page 47 of A Captain For Clarissa
He shook his head, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I am fine, Isabella. Just a little tired, that’s all. There is much to be done before the wedding, and I want everything to be perfect for you.”
Isabella’s face softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek. “You are a good brother, Rafael. I know that you have sacrificed so much for our family, and I am grateful for everything that you have done. But you must not forget to live your own life, too. You deserve happiness, just as much as I do.”
Rafael felt a surge of emotion rise up within him, and he blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “Thank you, Isabella,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I will try to remember that.”
As Isabella hurried off to oversee the preparations, Rafael turned back to the view of the vineyards, his heart heavy with regret. He knew that he should be focusing on his sister’s happiness, on the future that lay ahead for his family. But he could not shake the feeling that he had lost something precious, something that he would never be able to regain.
With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and turned back towards the castle, determined to put on a brave face for his sister’s sake. There would be time enough for regrets later, he told himself firmly. For now, he had a wedding to prepare for, and a family to protect.
Rafael walked through the halls of the castle, his footsteps echoing on the stone floors. The sound of laughter and excited chatter drifted towards him from the courtyard, where the servants were busy hanging garlands of flowers and setting up tables for the wedding feast. He forced himself to smile, to nod and exchange pleasantries with those he passed, but inside he felt hollow, as if a vital part of him had been torn away.
He found himself in the library, seeking solace among the dusty tomes and faded tapestries. The room was dim and cool, the only light filtering in through the narrow windows. Rafael sank into a worn leather armchair, his head in his hands.
“What have I done?” he whispered to himself, his voice rough with emotion. “I let her go, without even telling her how I felt. And now she is lost to me forever.”
He thought of Clarissa, of her fierce intelligence and her infectious laughter, her forthright honesty, of the way her eyes had sparkled when she looked at him. He had been a fool not to tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her in his life. And now it was too late.
Rafael sat there for a long time, lost in his thoughts, until the sound of footsteps in the hallway roused him from his reverie. He stood up, straightening his jacket and smoothing back his hair. He had a duty to his family, to his sister, and he would not let them down.
“Isabella’s happiness must come first,” he told himself firmly, pushing aside his own heartache. “I will focus on that, and let the rest take care of itself.”
With a deep breath, Rafael left the library and went to find his sister, determined to make her wedding day a joyous occasion, no matter the cost to his own heart.
As Rafael walked through the hallways of the castle, his mind wandered to the future. The once grand castle lay in disrepair, a shadow of its former glory. The vineyards, too, had suffered from years of neglect, the vines overgrown and the soil untended. Clarissa had made him see that it could be otherwise, that if he dedicated himself to rebuilding his estate, he could bring it back to what it once had been. She had seenthe possibility, and now, he determined that he would make her vision complete.
“I will rebuild this place,” Rafael vowed silently, his jaw set with determination. “I will make it a home worthy of Clarissa’s memory, a testament to the love I never had the chance to share with her.”
He imagined Clarissa walking beside him, her hand in his as they surveyed the grounds together. In his mind’s eye, he could see the vineyards thriving once more, the castle restored to its former grandeur. It was a vision of what might have been, a dream that he would now have to pursue alone.
Rafael paused at a window, looking out over the rolling hills that stretched to the horizon. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It was a sight that Clarissa would have loved, he knew, and the thought brought a fresh wave of pain to his heart.
“I will never forget you, my love,” he whispered, his voice carried away on the evening breeze. “And I will never stop fighting for the life we might have had together.”
With a final, lingering look at the sunset, Rafael turned away from the window and continued on his way, his steps heavy with the weight of his grief and his resolve. There was work to be done, and he would not rest until it was finished, until he had created a legacy that would honour Clarissa’s vision as she deserved.
Chapter Seventeen
Clarissa gazed out throughthe rain-streaked window of her family’s London townhouse, her heart as dark and listless as the rainy night. The clink of silver teaspoons on fine china and the idle chatter of the ladies gathered in the drawing-room after the dinner her mother had just hosted faded into the background as her thoughts drifted across the sea to Portugal, to Rafael.
She could still feel the warm caress of the sun on her skin, the sweet tang of port wine on her tongue, and the thrill that raced through her whenever Rafael fixed her with those striking sea-green eyes. In his presence, she had felt truly alive for the first time - challenged, appreciated, and part of something meaningful. Together they had tended to the vineyards and dreamed of a future restoring his family lands.
Now back in England, Clarissa felt the full weight of the structured, superficial society pressing down upon her. The endless teas, balls and social calls felt painfully hollow. She longed for the simple authenticity of life at Rafael’s estate, for the invigorating conversations and shared hopes that had bonded them so deeply in such a short time.
“Clarissa dear, whatever is the matter? You’ve been somewhere else entirely this last half-hour,” her mother’s voice cut into her thoughts.
Clarissa startled, nearly upsetting her forgotten tea cup. “It’s nothing, Mama. I’m a little wearied from the journey still, I suppose.”
“Well, I should hope you recover your wits soon. Your father has arranged for Lord Weatherby to take you riding in the park tomorrow afternoon.” The Countess gave her a meaningful look. “He’s quite a catch, you know.”
Glancing around at the other young ladies in their fine silks and perfect curls, Clarissa felt a rising desperation. Was this truly to be her life now - playing the demure maiden, bartering her youth and beauty to the highest titled bidder? They could never understand the wonders she’d experienced, the deep connection she’d forged with Rafael.
“I think I shall retire early tonight. Excuse me” she said abruptly, setting down her cup and rising. Her mother clucked disapprovingly but made no move to stop her.
Once in her room, Clarissa flung herself across the bed, staring up at the canopy. Unbidden, an image of Rafael’s handsome face filled her mind - the way he looked at her not as a prize to be won but a partner to stand beside, an equal in courage and spirit.
“Oh Rafael,” she whispered to the empty room, “how I wish I was with you now, finding purpose and adventure instead of withering away in this gilded cage.”
Silent tears slid down her temples to dampen the pillow.
