“What else did she enjoy?”
“She enjoyed sitting in the fields, watching the horses run and the birds fly, sketching their grace.”
God, it hurts to speak about her.
“She sketched too?” Pamela asked eagerly.
“Yes, you’ve got that in you, as well. I was delightfully surprised when I heard of your many talents.”
Pamela’s eyes glistened as she listened to him. “Did she… love me? Before she died?”
Raph’s heart twisted.
She would have loved you fiercely, Pamela, even though Montague left her shattered.
“She loved you more than anything,” he said steadily, despite the storm raging within him. “I truly believe that you were her light.”
Pamela smiled. It was a small but real smile. “I wish I had met her. What else was she like? Did she laugh a lot?”
Raph leaned back against the bench, and his thoughts briefly drifted to Camelia and her unquenchable fire. Her laughter rang louder in his mind than any other. If she were with him, she would have insisted on telling Pamela the truth she deserved.
But Camelia was occupied with household errands, and Raph took on the duty of personally teaching Pamela to ride. Hisprotective instincts surged, insisting that he be the only one to guide her on the trails and make certain she was always safe.
Their time alone in the stables will become a quiet ritual, each moment helping him grow accustomed to connecting with her. Raph saw not just the girl she was, but also the spirited young woman she was becoming.
“Your mother laughed like the world couldn’t touch her,” he said softly. “She was bright and free. The total opposite of me.”
That earned him a laugh from Pamela.
“You laugh like her sometimes, when you think I’m not watching.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You watch me? I thought… you were always busy. With the estate and the rules.”
Guilt pricked at him.
“I’ve kept you at arm’s length, thinking it would protect you. But instead, it has driven a wedge between us. Please know, Pamela, that I’m always watching over you. I want you to be safe and happy. That’s why I have set so many rules. But I see now that I’ve been too strict.”
“It’s all right, Father. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
His guilt gnawed harder at him.
“Tell me, what else do you want? Besides horse riding?”
“I’m happy as is, Father. The horse riding and art lessons are all I really wanted. Although I?—”
Raph turned to her when she stopped talking. “What is it, Pamela?”
“I do like spending time with you, Father. I was wondering if we could have more days like this?”
Raph longed to pull her into an embrace, but the unfamiliar urge to show such open affection held him back. Instead, he rested a gentle hand on her small shoulder and offered her a smile that carried the weight of his unspoken love.
“Of course we will,” he said softly, tentatively wiping away a stray tear that rolled down her cheek. The act was foreign to him, but it felt right. “That is, if you promise to draw as much as you like and show me sometime. I’d love to see your work.”
Pamela’s eyes widened with joy. “You really mean that?”
“Am I one to jest, Pamela?”
“No, Father,” she answered with an exaggerated shake of her head, causing her raven curls to fall loose. “I… I’ll bring them tomorrow. If that’s all right?”
