He was going to kiss her. Rachel’s heart was racing. Her lips parted instinctively. She saw Cory’s gaze drop to them. They were very close now. Cory’s touch made her feel quite dizzy. In a moment she would be in his arms and she would not fight it, would not resist for a second, for she did not want to do so. The idea filled her with shock and excitement and a sweet longing.
The door to the servants’ quarters opened and Mrs Goodfellow bustled out, stopping abruptly as she saw the couple in the hall.
‘There you are, my lord! Lady Odell wondered if you wished to join the family for dinner tomorrow night? She mentioned something about a picnic down by the river. Isn’t that right, Miss Rachel?’
Wrenched from her sensual dream, Rachel blushed bright red and backed several steps away.
‘I…Oh yes, yes, it is.’ She risked a look at Cory’s face, saw the humour there and blushed harder. Damn him for being able to do this to her. She took a deep breath.
‘By all means join us,’ she said, trying to sound gracious rather than merely breathless. ‘In the interests of friendship, of course.’
She saw Cory tense slightly. ‘Friendship. Of course.’ He smiled again. ‘I should be delighted.’
‘Good.’ Rachel felt relieved. This should put an end once and for all to the strange nuances between them. They could recapture their old footing and be at ease. The company of Sir Arthur and Lady Odell would make it appear just like old times.
She gave Cory a faint smile. ‘Goodbye then, Cory.’
Cory waved and went out, and Rachel went slowly up the stairs to her room and threw herself down on the bed, staring up at the canopy. This attraction to Cory had to be a fleeting thing, a matter of proximity only. Their friendship had endured for seventeen years, but it would not last another five minutes if she were to give in to the temptation of his kisses. For how could they go back after that? Cory was not the marrying kind, and even if he was, he was not the man for her. They wanted such different things from their lives that their hopes and aspirations could never match.
Rachel rolled over and pressed her cheek against her cool pillow. She knew that she was being sensible. She knew that she was being logical. She knew that she was drawn to Cory with an inexplicable but undeniable attraction and that she was still no closer to discovering a cure.
Chapter Thirteen
At eight o’clock the following evening, Rachel made her way down through the gardens to the knot of pines overlooking the river. The air was warm and heavy and the river flowed slowly. The sun had not yet set and her parents and the servants were still busy about the excavations. Cory, however, had finished work in the afternoon and sent her a message that he was returning to Kestrel Court to change his clothes and that he would see her for dinner later.
Rachel had been touched. She would not have expected him to be so thoughtful or to attach so much importance to their meal. There had been times in the past when Cory had finished digging for the day, rolled his sleeves down and come to join her for a casual supper-having washed his hands first, of course. Apparently tonight was to be different.
She realised the extent to which she had underestimated Cory when he appeared, for he was dressed in tight buckskins, gleaming Hessians and a coat of green superfine that fitted his broad shoulders like a second skin. He came down the slope to join her, took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. Rachel, breathing in the scent of lime cologne, felt very slightly dizzy. She took a deep breath of the fresh evening air and reminded herself that this evening was the one that was meant to set everything back in its former place. She wanted the familiar and the comforting claims of friendship, not the disturbing demands of attraction.
‘Good evening, Rachel,’ Cory said.
‘I am sorry that I am not as smart as you,’ Rachel said, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her old green cotton dress that was sprinkled with embroidered daisies. ‘You show me up, Cory, in all that finery.’
Cory smiled. ‘Indeed, Rachel-’ his eyes skimmed her in a thoroughly disconcerting way ‘-you look charming. I have no complaints over the company.’
They sat down on the blanket and Rachel passed him a glass of lemonade.
‘Would you care to eat? Mama and Papa are still at work, but I have reminded them that the picnic is ready and they have sworn to join us shortly.’
Cory propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the bread and cheese. ‘They are very dedicated,’ he said.
‘They are certainly dedicated to their antiquities and devoted to each other,’ Rachel agreed, with an edge to her voice. ‘I cannot dispute that.’
There was a pause. ‘They love you too, you know, Rae,’ Cory said. He was holding a chicken leg in his strong, brown fingers. ‘They may appear to be obsessed with their work, but they do care about you.’
Rachel sighed. It felt comfortable to have Cory here with her now, rather like the old days when they had sat together and chatted about all manner of subjects at any hour of the day or night. For once there was none of the edgy wrangling that had so beset their encounters over the last few weeks. She had never felt a strong attraction to a man before in her entire life, and it felt odd that it should be Cory, for beneath the disturbing awareness, there was the closeness and familiarity that seventeen years of friendship had built. Which was why it was so utterly important that she should cling on to that friendship and not put it at risk.
‘I know that my parents love me,’ she said now. ‘It is simply that I come third on the list.’ She cut herself a piece of cheddar cheese and broke off a piece of the bread. ‘I remember hearing Mama tell Lady Cardew it was the greatest nuisance when I was born, for she had just uncovered a Roman temple in Gloucestershire and could not get out to the site for an entire week!’
Cory laughed. ‘That sounds like your mother.’ He tossed the chicken bone aside. ‘Nevertheless, she cares for you, Rae. She must do. She did not send you to boarding school when she travelled abroad, but took you everywhere with her.’
Rachel nodded. ‘I know. I am an ungrateful wretch. I begged and begged to be sent to school, you know. I wanted to be like all the other girls. I have seen half the world when all I really wanted was to have a settled life.’
Cory smiled at her. ‘That is a reasonable enough aim too.’
‘Not for you. You have no desire to settle in one place.’
‘True. I want very different things in my life.’
Rachel looked at the slow drift of the river and from there to Cory’s shadowed face. ‘What do you want, Cory?’
She thought that he hesitated before answering, but when he spoke his tone was easy. ‘All the things that I have now. The excitement of travel and exploration, the freedom, the uncertainty…’ He flashed her a smile. ‘All the things that you dislike, Rae.’
Rachel reached for an apple from the basket and took a small bite. ‘Why do you like it so much?’
Again Cory hesitated. ‘Because it is so unpredictable. I never know where I might go, or what I might find.’
‘What about the ordinary things? A home and a family?’
Cory tilted his glass of lemonade to his lips. ‘I have a home. Newlyn Park will always be there for me.’
‘Like a perpetual bride in waiting,’ Rachel said. ‘What about a family, Cory?’
‘One day, maybe,’ Cory said. He smiled at her.
‘You need someone who shares your dreams,’ Rachel said. Her heart felt a little achy at the thought. For so many years she had been there with Cory, not through her own choice, perhaps, but because fate had thrown them together. To relinquish that closeness to someone Cory loved, someone who shared his hopes and plans…Her throat closed and she made a little fuss of sorting through the contents of the picnic basket.
‘I do not suppose,’ she said, after a moment, ‘that marriage is a particularly appealing option for a rake.’ She shot him a look. ‘Not when there are so many ladies who are willing to give you what you want without the benefit of clergy. I’ll wager that you have had many and many an offer, Cory, and not necessarily of matrimony.’
