Page 27 of With Love in Sight
There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “At least you have your other siblings. Such support must be necessary in such a situation.”
Again that pain, only more intense this time. In her ignorance of the situation she was cutting straight to the quick. “I’m afraid,” he said through stiff lips, “that, as my life has led me to spend the majority of my time in London I am no longer close with any of them.” No need to tell her why he was in town most of the time. Nor that it was the strain at home that had prompted the move, not the other way around.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her bow her head and shake it slowly. “It must be like losing them all, then.”
What could he say to that? It was the truth. He had lost much more than Jonathan that day.
“I hate the thought of you being so alone, Caleb.”
He forced a laugh at that. “I am certainly far from alone. I have not exactly allowed myself to be without companionship in the past years.”
He inwardly winced as the crass words left his mouth. It had been beyond the pale to bring up his reputation as Society’s Lothario, and with Imogen of all people. But he had never before had anyone question him about his relationship with his family or probe into the unhealed wounds of the past.
Imogen ignored it. “That is not what I meant, and you know it. There is something sacred about the relationship between brothers and sisters. Especially having lost one, you should not have to go through the pain of losing the others. Surely there must be something that can be done to remedy your relationships with them. All cannot be lost.”
He gritted his teeth, fighting the strange longing her words brought forth. He never allowed himself to consider regaining closeness with his siblings. It was not possible, not after what had happened with Jonathan. Imogen, however, was bringing to light these hidden desires: to have an easy rapport with his family, to not feel gnawing guilt whenever he was in their presence.
“Enough about me.” As he spoke he saw her draw back, and he realized his words had been sharper than he’d intended. He smiled, softening his tone. “This afternoon is about you. We will not spoil it by bringing up the past.”
Still there was worry on her face, creasing the space between her brows. He had to deflect her.
“I still don’t know what you’re capable of in the water,” he mused. “I’m not quite sure you can hold your own with the likes of me.”
His words seemed to do the trick. Her eyes cleared, a sly smile lifting her lips. “I do believe I’ll surprise you.”
“Very well then—prove it. What do you say to a race?” And before she could answer, he was off.
“No fair!” she called. She let out a wonderful peal of laughter, so enchanting in its exuberance that it seemed to unfreeze whatever pall had temporarily settled over the afternoon. She came after him, her efforts laborious but growing in confidence. By the time she reached where he was lazily treading water, she was grinning in triumph.
“I’m doing it,” she breathed, letting out another laugh. “I really am doing it.”
Her joy was infectious. He splashed her, which caused her to gasp and retaliate. Before long the clearing rang with splashing and laughter. And Caleb thought he had never been so happy in his life.
• • •
Well before Imogen was ready for the day to end, it was time to emerge from the water. Her fingers were wrinkling horribly and her lips, Caleb told her, were turning an interesting shade of blue. She grudgingly admitted he was right, and when his back was firmly turned she emerged first, ducking behind an obliging bush to dress. A blush suffused her face—and lower—when she saw how her chemise clung to her body, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Thank goodness she had been fully submerged.
Before long she had a dry chemise on, her clothing over it and covering her from neck to foot once again. Caleb took his turn behind the bush, and then they moved to the blanket he had laid out for them. The sun warmed them, drying their hair and taking the remaining chill from their skin. Imogen dug with zeal into the willow basket Caleb had been so kind as to bring, surprised to see that he had been right about needing the nourishment after swimming. She was absolutely famished.
She was just finishing up a second leg of cold chicken when Caleb, his food long gone, leaned back on his elbow. He stuck a long blade of grass between his teeth and chewed it thoughtfully.
“You are a brave woman, Imogen,” he said softly.
She nearly choked on her food. “Come now,” she scoffed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “That isn’t the least bit true.”
“No, I’m serious.” He sat up, his expression intent. “You are inspiring. You know what your future holds, and though it’s not to your liking, you aren’t cowed by it. I mean, look at you. You’re out here, having adventures. We most of us are slaves to our fate. But here you are, looking for joy and passion.” He shook his head in admiration. “It is something to be proud of, Imogen.”
She stared at him wordlessly a moment. And then she smiled, reaching out and grabbing at his hand. “It’s because of you, you know.”
“No,” he replied, his eyes warm on her face as he returned the pressure of her hand, “it’s because of you. You are braver than you realize. This here, this moment, is proof positive of that. Don’t ever lose that.”
He rose then, and helped her up. As she twisted her hair up, jabbing pins into it in an attempt to tame it, Caleb packed the basket. Before long they had their things ready and were heading back to the house in a companionable silence.
Caleb managed to sneak her back to her room with ease. As she was about to slip through the door, however, she paused. He looked at her quizzically.
“So what is next?” she asked, her voice eager even to her own ears.
“You will just have to wait and see,” he replied mysteriously before retreating down the hall.
