Page 56 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“I want to thank you,” Rafe said. “You saved my child’s life yesterday.”
Goosebumps broke out on her skin as the events of the day before replayed in her mind. The fierce rain, the assault of lightning, and the barrage of thunder. It was a miracle none of them had been hurt.
“You cannot possibly know what that little girl means to me. She is...” Rafe’s voice grew thick with emotion. “She is my world. She’d saved me when I stood on the precipice of darkness. She pulled me back into the light. The world underestimates the value of a child’s love. It is unconditional, held back by no limits. Such a love can save any lost soul.”
Diana was moved by his frankness. “You are quite right. When we grow up, we begin to limit everything in our lives, even our love.” She stared down at her plate. “I was more than glad to help you yesterday. There is something about Isla that...” She couldn’t find the words to say what she wished to. “Heavens, I don’t know what it is I mean to say, but I feel aconnectionto her.”
Some of the worry and concern in Rafe’s eyes vanished beneath his natural charm.
“That is the magic of adorable orphans,” Rafe said. “One cannot deny the urge to love them and feel connected to them. I never had much time or interest in children before, but the moment I met Isla, she simply stole away any reservations I might have had.”
Diana smiled back, remembering how she’d instantly wanted to hug Isla and listen to her chatter on about Mrs. Crumpet. “She’s impossible not to adore.”
“I was thinking perhaps I could escort you home?” Rafe offered. “When you feel up to it, of course.”
Any protest she might have had died upon her lips as their gazes locked across the table and she found herself saying, “Yes.”
“Good.” Rafe then engaged her in conversation, lifting her somewhat down spirits. He peppered her with questions, everything from her favorite flower to the book she’d been reading lately. She confessed that she had not had much time to read as of late, but she adored novels, and when it came to flowers, she was rather bewitched by the amaranth. Their reddish stems often had spines protecting themselves from being plucked, but they were a wild, exotic-looking bloom that, when planted well, could grow in colorful bracts and dazzle one’s senses with showering inflorescences.
“And you?” she asked as they dined.
“Well, my favorite flower... How to choose? I mean, there are so many! I’m rather obsessed with flowers, as all serious men must be. It’s all we can think of, and you ask me to choose?” Rafe began, making her burst into sudden giggles.
“No, I meant your favoritebook,” she corrected, then giggled again when he gave her a look of mock effrontery.
“You mean to say you do not care what my favorite flower is? You wound me, my dear Diana.” He caressed her name with a friendly intimacy she hadn’t heard anyone use in a long time. It made her feel like she was no longer on the outside looking in upon a warm, intimate world. That single use of her name had taken her in and rescued her from the cold.
“Well, what is it?” she asked, desperately trying not to laugh.
“The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, by that Irving fellow. Particularly his story ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’—magical story. Frightening too... What?” He halted when she burst into giggles again.
“Now I meant your favoriteflower.” Diana had to wipe tears from her eyes because she was laughing too hard, probablypartly in relief from the stress of the last few days, but also because he was so amusing.
“You change your mind rather quickly. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I do not!” she insisted. “I suppose I do... no, not really.”
Rafe chuckled. “Well, ’tis your woman’s prerogative.”
“Yes, it is. Now about those flowers...,” she said, unable to resist teasing him.
“Oh, that... well, I like daffodils. The little ones. They are so strong, given their size,” he answered quite seriously. “They remind me of Isla.”
“I rather agree,” she said with a smile. “She is a most darling child.”
She finished her tea and ate the last bit of her toast, then licked the marmalade from her fingertips. Rafe’s blue eyes grew hot with interest, and Diana self-consciously cleared her throat, which made his gaze lift to meet her own.
“I must thank your brother and his wife, and you for your hospitality and care, but I believe I’m feeling well enough to go home now. Do you still wish to escort me?”
“Of course.” He rose from his chair at the same moment she did. “Let me call for my phaeton to be brought around. After I see to Isla, we shall depart.”
Rafe hadhis phaeton and Diana’s horse brought around while he went up to the nursery to see Isla before he departed. His daughter was sitting up in bed, the color having returned to her cherubic cheeks. She was talking to her doll, Mrs. Crumpet, while her nanny watched, a book abandoned in her lap. Isla sawthat he was wearing his coat, hat, and gloves, and her eyes filled with tears.
“You’releaving, Papa?”
“What? No, of course not.” He rushed over to sit on the edge of her bed. “I am simply escorting Miss Fox home, that is all.”
Isla started to push at the coverlet that was tucked up against her little lap. “May I come?”
