him an emotion far stronger than mere esteem. She liked Cory tremendously. She always had done. The reason she had regretted their quarrel so much was because she valued Cory’s friendship highly and could not bear to lose it. In fact, she did not merely
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I hold him in the highest esteem.’
‘So,’ Olivia said inexorably, ‘in point of fact, Lord Newlyn possesses almost all the qualities you would look for in a gentleman. Whereas Sir John and Mr Lang and Mr Kestrel are sadly lacking.’
Rachel was saved from replying, for the gig was pulling to a halt at the crossroads in Midwinter Mallow.
‘We should all go on a trip to the seaside,’ Deborah said, fanning herself lazily, ‘if the weather holds. Would you like that, Rachel?’
‘I would enjoy it extremely,’ Rachel said. She waved goodbye to them and watched as the gig turned down the track that forked right towards Midwinter Marney and the sea, then she prepared to walk the remaining mile to Midwinter Royal House.
The sun seemed even more intense out in the open. It dazzled the eyes and squeezed the head with lassitude until Rachel wanted nothing more than to lie down in the shade and sleep. By the time that she reached the square in Midwinter Mallow, she was already too hot and wished that she had taken advantage of Olivia’s offer of a ride in the gig all the way home. The village was quiet-even the birds were silent, weighed down by the heat. On impulse, Rachel crossed the dusty square and went under the lych gate into the churchyard. Here the slabs of the path burned the soles of her shoes, but the yew trees cast their shade on the uneven gravestones. She sat down in the shadow of the lych gate. That was better. Now she could draw breath and cool down, for she was unpleasantly aware of the sweat running between her shoulder blades and the flushed heat of her face. She did so hate to sweat; not only was it unladylike, it also caused more laundry.
Perhaps it was the intensity of the heat or perhaps it was something else-Olivia’s comments, maybe-that made Rachel’s thoughts turn back to Cory Newlyn and the conversation that had gone before. Olivia had put her finger on matters with uncanny accuracy. Cory possessed many of the qualities that Rachel admired. He was the sort of man that she wanted.
Rachel stared hard at an avocet picking its way delicately across the distant mudflats in its search for food, but the outline of the bird blurred before her eyes. She was staring intently, but her gaze was turned inward, not outward. For the first time she was confronting her feelings without artifice.
She wanted a husband like Cory Newlyn. Rachel wriggled her shoulders under the thin material of her spencer. No. It was more than that. The truth was that
A cold sliver of fear and doubt touched Rachel’s spine as soon as the thought came into her head. That had to be wrong. Cory was an adventurer, reckless, rash and unpredictable. She disapproved wholeheartedly of his lifestyle. And yet she also cared for him. She knew she could trust him utterly. She never doubted him.
Rachel blinked sharply, as though trying to clear her head. She felt that she was on very dangerous ground and should begin a retreat here and now, before she got herself into a hopeless position. There was no harm in admitting that she cared for Cory as she would for an elder brother. Furthermore, she was willing to allow that he possessed qualities that she liked and admired. She would even permit herself to go so far as to admit she wanted a man who embodied those characteristics. But Cory himself…She pushed away the insidious thought. It was quite impossible that she should be drawn to Cory in that manner. They wanted different things from their lives. And she was sure that he would never, ever, see her as more than a friend.
She paused. Had Cory seen her as a friend when he had kissed her in the billiards room? Was it friendship that she had felt for him when she had sat watching him in the lee of the pine trees and felt that deep and disturbing sensual awareness? She could not lie to herself. What she had felt was something far more troubling than mere friendship. What she had felt was attraction. And she was going to have to cure herself. Fast.
When she reached home she found Cory in the hallway, talking to her father. Sir Arthur greeted her absent- mindedly and wandered off to the excavation and Cory turned to Rachel with a smile. The late afternoon sun was making warm puddles on the marble floor and burnishing Cory’s hair to a rich bronze. Rachel swallowed hard. She was disturbed to realise that she was fast becoming fixated on looking at him. She must be suffering from too much sun. What was needed was a good thunderstorm to clear the air and return them all to the right minds.
‘Are you quite well, Rachel?’ Cory asked, touching her arm. His tone was gently mocking. ‘You seem very flustered.’
‘I…yes, thank you!’ Rachel pulled away from him. ‘I believe I am feeling the heat a little today.’
‘Ah, the heat,’ Cory murmured. ‘Such a useful explanation for all sorts of maladies!’
Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Was there something that you wanted, Cory?’
‘Plenty of things,’ Cory said. His gaze wandered over her face and lingered on her mouth. Rachel fidgeted.
‘Yes?’ Her voice was husky.
‘I wondered whether you could find me your father’s October 1802 copy of the
Rachel felt an absurd pang of disappointment and was angry with herself for it. She shook the feeling off and managed to match his casual air.
‘The paper? Oh, yes, of course. I will have a look through Papa’s files and have it ready for you later.’
‘Thank you.’ Cory smiled at her. ‘I suppose I had better be going. Did you enjoy your meeting of the reading group today?’
Rachel furled her parasol. ‘Yes, thank you. We all saw you in the gardens. I am surprised that you escaped Mr Daubenay so soon, though. Surely he cannot have achieved his sketch for the watercolour book so quickly?’
Cory pulled a face. ‘I fear that I became bored and told him that I had pressing business to attend to. Standing around doing nothing whilst my likeness is taken is not my idea of a good use of time.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘You achieved plenty. You managed to distract our attention from
She thought that Cory looked rather pleased with himself. ‘Did I distract you?’ he said.
Rachel hesitated. It seemed that lying to Cory was coming a little too easily these days.
‘You did not distract me personally,’ she said, ‘but Mrs Stratton and Miss Lang were both quite overwhelmed and even Lady Sally herself had an appreciative gleam in her eyes.’
‘Whereas you, having grown up indifferent to me, were wondering why everyone was stuck on page forty- five?’
Rachel smiled. ‘Not precisely. I could see why you would be an asset to Lady Sally’s book of watercolours.’
Cory looked surprised. ‘Could you, indeed? That is quite an admission, Rachel. Not long ago you were telling me that you were sure there were other ladies who might be impressed by my charms, but that you were not amongst them.’
Rachel realised that she had made a tactical error.
‘Well,’ she said, blushing, ‘I feel it my duty to prevent you from developing too good an opinion of yourself.’
‘Someone has to take on the job, I suppose,’ Cory said, ‘though God knows, I wish it was not you, Rachel. You are the person whose good opinion I most value. The only reason I agreed to Lady Sally’s drawing was to please you.’
Rachel looked at him. ‘Truly? But surely my opinion cannot matter that much to you?’
‘You would be surprised,’ Cory said drily. ‘Surely you know by now that I only wish to make you happy?’
His tone was mocking, but underneath it was a note of sincerity. Rachel searched his face. The hall was cool and shadowed and hid Cory’s expression, and she was not certain if he was smiling. It seemed remarkably difficult to tear her gaze away from him.
‘I had not realised…’ Rachel pulled herself together. ‘That is, I am glad that you decided to pose for the watercolour book…’
Her throat dried up and her words with it as she took in the expression in his eyes.
‘And what do you think about the other things I said?’ Cory asked gently. ‘Rachel, you know that yours is the opinion I most value.’
‘I…’ Rachel could not reply. All afternoon she had been trying to erect barriers against Cory in her mind and now he was intent on demolishing them as soon as they were made. He raised a hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. There was a look of deep concentration in his eyes. He leaned closer.
