The unspoken words that they both heard were,I wish it would be with me.
A thick splatter of rain on the window had them facing the streaked panes for a long while. “What do you see in the rain, William?”
He quirked a brow, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen your drawings,” Rachel murmured. “You see women in rosebushes, and you make symbols out of rainbirds. I know you must see something more in the rain?”
“Ah,” he stroked her arm. “Rain is a symbol of hope.”
“Hope?”
“Yes,” he said. “It cannot rain forever, can it? Sometime after it pours, the sun remerges from the clouds, and things change. Flowers grow, the grass is greener, the sky is brighter. Rain tells me that something better is on the other side of it, of the pain one might feel in a day or a year. It is going to pass.”
Rachel turned to him with bright eyes. “That was beautiful, William. I—I honestly never thought about it that way.”
He gave a slight smile. “The only problem is that the sun is taking a long while to come out from behind your clouds.”
She settled back into his side, “It will one day.”
They stayed at the window seat, looking out as the rain fell. The sound was soothing, and William knew they would have fallen asleep to it, if only Miss Colton had not come and told them that dinner was ready.
“Eat with me?” Rachel requested.
“I’ll be happy to,” he kissed her forehead. “Where?”
***
Taking William to her private room was a gamble that Rachel hoped would not cost her if word got back to her parents. The small table she used for her singular meals was now packed with two settings. The rain was starting to let off, but it was still falling.
Rain tells me that something better is on the other side of it, of the pain one might feel in a day or a year. It is going to pass.
She was going to hold William’s words close to her heart as they made so much sense. They were speaking about the painting when Jane came in with a letter in hand.
“Pardon, My Lady, but this just arrived.”
Rachel accepted the envelope with a quiet thanks and glanced at the now-familiar handwriting of Lord Strathmore. Instantly, she went cross.
What does he want now?
She laid the envelope aside and continued eating her dinner.
“Shouldn’t you open it?” William’s quiet question had her head snapping up.
“Yes, but not now.”
“Is it something you think will upset you?” William asked.
“Without a doubt,” Rachel reached for her wine and sat back.
Laying his fork down, William offered, “Shall I open it for you?”
Sighing, Rachel waved her permission to him, and he reached for the envelope. Her stomach began to churn with unease about what the Lord had sent her and watched as he quickly read it. William laid it down, “In essence, he wants you to attend the Barstow ball with him in a sennight, and he has made an appointment with a modiste for you to attend. He, and I quote, says, ‘I want you to be the most glistening diamond in a room of crystals’.”
Her stomach soured. “He wants to show the refined version of me off to his peers. The girl who is known to wear the frumpiest gowns in London is not the belle of the ball.”
He nudged the letter a little to the edge of the table. “Perhaps pretend to be sick that night?”
“If I am not truly sick already,” Rachel muttered. “I have to go. My parents will not allow me to say no. It’s possible that half of London already knows about my engagement to him and will expect to see me there.”
