Broken Angel Read online

  She processed the information he presented with an air of distracted concentration before interpreting the parallel’s and applying it to his own clasp. “Warm.” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she continued. “Firm. Not rough in the shaking of mine. Accepting of my pressure and returning of the same.”

  When Robert laughed, Rachel lifted her focus from their shaking hands. “All right,” he said as he released her clasp, “so I chose too simple of an example.”

  “What do you mean? I explained your clasp as you did mine.” She motioned to his right hand, now tucked within his trouser pocket. “How does this matter to the ‘life in business’ mentioned?” she prompted, again meeting his gaze.

  “Relate the clasp to what you know of my person.”

  Rachel blinked and her eyes slightly widened. “Intriguing.”

  “What is?”

  “That such a simple action would give a clear representation of the person’s character.”

  He regarded her a moment with the same amused expression before once more presenting his hand. “Try again.”

  Intrigue and enjoyment of the simple yet intricate exercise twinkled in Rachel’s emerald gaze as she accepted his hand—and then immediately pulled away. She frowned at him with a near sneer of disgust.

  “What?” he prompted, withholding a smile.

  “It was limp and… and…. Don’t be absurd, Robert Trent. You’re no more a… a… weakling than I.”

  Robert laughed. “All right, all right, my dear. I apologize the disgust.” Once again he presented his hand. “How about now?”

  This time, however, Rachel hesitated her acceptance of the proffered hand, continuing to frown at it before reaching out. She had only barely accepted his hand when she quickly pulled back, voicing a gasp and sending him a look of surprise.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said while leaning forward. Robert took the offended hand into a gentle hold as he closely watched her face. “Did I hurt you? I tho–”

  “No. I was only so very taken aback.” She met his apologetic gaze. “Are there men who shake hands that aggressively? Even a woman’s?”

  He continued to gently rub her fingers as he smiled down at her. “While a shock, yes. Some truly don’t know their own strength. Or, rather, they don’t realize the aggression they exude. If you prepare yourself beforehand to the possibilities, you can gauge and use that information in the boardroom. Elsewhere, for that matter.”

  “Intriguing. I never imagined.” She motioned to his hold. “Surely they won’t shake my hand as you have. Won’t they expect a more traditional greeting?”

  “Perhaps. Unless you initiate.” Robert chuckled. “Wouldn’t that shock and amaze?”

  Rachel smirked, thoroughly looking forward to the prospect. “Yes. I do believe it would.” Her smile vanished to seriousness, however, even as he continued his gentle rubbing motions. “How firmly should I grip? I don’t wish for them to know too soon my own character, do I?”

  “Are you certain? Who would suspect a firm grip from a beautiful woman to actually be an accurate reflection of her persona? Haven’t you yourself confessed that men judge by your beauty and then rate you by that judgment? Even though you’ve displayed your intelligence and wit directly afterward.”

  When he began to softly rub her palm, there was a resounding alteration to the rhythm of her heart, but she was so enamored and intrigued with the current study of “life in business” that she ushered it aside even though it slightly quickened her breathing. “You don’t believe they will regard the firm grip as any correlation between, just as they don’t with beauty and intelligence?”

  “While I hate to categorize all by a few, I’m afraid my answer is ‘yes’.”

  Her gaze focused once more on the duty of his hands gently stroking hers. “Interesting, interesting.”

  Robert chuckled and then surprised her free from the intrigue by lightly kissing her knuckles. “Only you see it that way, my dear.”

  Ignoring the rising heat in her cheeks, Rachel turned to again make her way down the sidewalk, her hand once again tucked into the nook of his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. How can one not appreciate the intricacies to be found in business?”

  “Good question; however, allow me to pose another: How can one not appreciate the intricacies to be found in, let’s say, needlework such as lace and the designing of a gown? Or the intricacies in planning a garden or a dinner party? There are intricacies in all actions of interest; we have but to look for them.”

  “Point taken and accepted.”

  He motioned to her. “Another example would be the intricacies in relationship: Actions to be done, actions not to be done, timing, persistence, communication; they all affect a final outcome.”

  Rachel slowly nodded. “How intriguingly odd. I never took the time to see this correlation.” She lightly frowned. “I’m quite annoyed with myself.”

  Patting her hand, Robert sent her an engaging and lopsided smile. “Don’t be. It has been a growing trend I’ve noticed, this failing to realize the investment relationships require. Quite a shame. So many friendships would be saved if they took the time to appreciate the intricacies therein.” He laughed. “Speaking of intricacies and hard work, you really must meet a good friend of mine. We’ve been friends since grade school…. Well, we shared the same tutor, at any rate. He’s coming for a visit later in the month, unless I can persuade him here earlier.”

  She regarded him in mild surprise. “Certainly you have more than one ‘good friend’?”

  “Hm? Oh. I have two close friends, truth be told.” At her continuing surprise, his smile widened. “Cultivating a friendship is hard work, as I said before. If a person attempts too many, disaster abounds. So, I’ve limited myself to no more than three close friendships and nearly a dozen acquaintances whom visit, or I visit them, once or twice each year to reminisce on school days and whatnot. We exchange letters upon occasion as well, of course. Perhaps a card or visit at Easter and Christmas.”

  “And this friend you mention?” Rachel could hear the interest in her voice, which she supposed wasn’t wise to show quite so early, but Robert Trent intrigued her on so many levels.

  “Hm?”

  “This friend. Was he the gentleman for whom you attended Lynette’s party?”

  Robert chuckled. “The very one, blast him. I’m still plotting a prank for that. Lynette nearly had me married off five different times. My friend and I finally had to retreat to the garden for a little peace of mind.”

  Rachel regarded his profile as he stared ahead, one side of his lips forever tilted upward it seemed. Again and again she attempted to categorize his persona, and each time the category wouldn’t be had. He was neither complete rogue, nor complete romantic, nor complete nuisance… and she was quite certain the list would go on. He was a collection of facets that served very well to make a whole, intriguing man.

  “You are an interesting compilation of mysteries, Robert Trent,” she admitted.

  He raised an eyebrow but did not meet her gaze. “Oh? How so?”

  “You aren’t… practiced.”

  This time Robert sent her a sidelong glance followed by a slight wink, his brown eyes twinkling. “Thank you.”

  She examined his face an additional moment before moving her focus ahead. She didn’t know what to think or feel, but she definitely didn’t mind his attentions. Attentions? Courting is the direct intent. And the thought that he did, in fact, attempt to court and woo when she was barely an acquaintance intrigued her even further. Rachel arched an eyebrow. What are the duties of a beau in regards to courtship?

  “What has you so intensely silent and thoughtful?” he posed in a slightly amused tone.

  Focusing on her surroundings, Rachel noted they had come to a stop opposite a hotel with a glass-ensconced restaurant on the west side. There was also a fountain with a pond and a collection of wooden and wrought-iron benches in a small park directly outside. Robert led her onto the lush greenery and offer
ed her a seat upon one of the benches, which she accepted, and then sat down beside her. He turned slightly to face her, resting his arm and elbow upon the back of the bench.

  “The last time I noticed you so intense,” he continued, “was the morning on the train when you confessed to your identity. Although, if I remember correctly, you wore a bit of a frown.” And he motioned to her brow with a single finger, nearly touching her skin.

  Rachel arched an eyebrow as she scrutinized his expression. Interest and…. Hm. Something further she couldn’t name fairly danced within the brown eyes as they held her gaze. Why should I welcome his attentions more than those of, say, Mr. Traxin? Rachel wrinkled her nose and looked away, drawing up her fan to absently tease the air. ‘Why’ indeed! Mr. Traxin is a mouse among men, scrambling for the cheese while scared of his own scratchings.

  Robert chuckled. “Rachel, don’t make faces such as that and then choose not to confess what has put you into a mood. It isn’t at all nice.”

  Yet how could she, in all seriousness, confide that she was at a loss to know the duties of a beau or the expected reaction of the object of that beau’s affections? Rachel pressed her lips into a thin line, the fan pausing its motion now and again. Then, when she felt his scrutiny of her profile intensify, she forced the emotion some distance away. Whether it yet showed on her face or not would be revealed by–

  “Rachel? What is troubling you?”

  Rachel’s hands tightened their grip upon her fan. “Do not trouble yourself.” Humiliation! If the future of my life was to be marriage, why was that not a subject of study? Is Father determined to keep me off-balance so that I will forever be subject to another’s authority and instruction? Frustration rose in a nearly uncontrollable wave.

  “Have I–”

  “Do not assume that you are always to blame,” she retorted. He blinked, causing Rachel to shift her focus away and the motions of her fan to grow short and quick. “I apologize.” Apologies and scrapings for forgiveness! She pressed her lips together. Her headmistress would have pulled her into the office to receive a brow-beating at her inability to control her emotions.

  “Rachel.”

  She didn’t face him again, although how he said her name pulled at her to do so. His tone sounded more firm than it had before, and yet there was an undercurrent of gentleness that never ceased to intrigue her.

  “While I won’t annoy and hound you with questions until you confess what bothers you, I’m more than willing to give you what answers and insights that I’m able.”

  Rachel’s brow lowered. Given answers! Condescended insights! Why am I trained to research if I must ask rather than discover them on my own merit? Yet how could she discover anything if she didn’t ask those pertinent questions to guide the research? She scoffed and snapped her fan closed as she stood. When she moved to walk away, she felt Robert’s gentle yet firm clasp enfold her hand. Eyes sparked with chilled annoyance as she faced him.

  Robert didn’t stand. He only slightly inclined his head. “I know, and I only invade your person because I’m concerned.” He slowly released her hand, but his gaze didn’t release hers as he regarded her. “Much as I fear I might be slapped for it, would you mind if I pose a question? It has bothered me since yesterday, and I don’t know how to resolve the issue.”

  Rachel’s frown vanished as an eyebrow arched upward. “Certainly.” Although she had expected him to press the point of her irritation, whether or not he had stated beforehand that he wouldn’t.

  Instead of immediately posing the question, however, he cleared his throat and lowered his gaze as he brought out his pipe from his inside suit-coat pocket and toyed with it with both hands. “As you– No. I must start elsewhere.” He pressed his lips together and began tapping his pipe against his hand, ears turning a definite shade of pink. “I will likely humiliate myself with the confession, but I’m not certain what is allowed in my relationship with you.”

  Even he is uncertain of his duties? Rachel very nearly scoffed at the ludicrousness of it. “Allowed?”

  Robert lifted his gaze from the pipe. “Yes. Those intricacies I mentioned before. Now that our tentative friendship is on a definite track toward something different than before, any boundaries I had previously given myself have faded. Rather than guess and stumble in the dark–”

  “Robert,” Rachel interrupted with a reluctant smirk, “ask the question, if you would be so kind. There’s no need to ramble.”

  His face and ears actually reddened as he lowered his eyes. “Ask a question that humiliates a rogue; dear me, what a prospect.” Then he released a quick breath. “Very well, I shall die a hero’s death and ask.” He met her gaze. “How tender and affectionate am I allowed to be toward you?”

  Rachel actually paled, her chest tightening with a surprising torrent of fear as well as an emotion she could not recognize. A brief wave of lightheadedness even had to be pushed to the wayside.

  The reaction was so extreme that it caused Robert to quickly stand and offer a hand to her elbow as well as a concerned, “My dear! Are you all right?”

  His reaction so soon after the conversation and question had her stepping back from him in actual retreat, her eyes the only part of her unable to move from his. And though he had asked a legitimate question, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she forced her gaze away, focusing instead on the pebble path at her feet. “How tender and affectionate…?” How could she possible answer when the tenderness and affection he had displayed thus far had been almost forcefully accepted. At times even regarded with a twinge of suspicion.

  Robert cautiously enfolded her hand in his, drawing her gaze. “I know that up to this point I have likely pressed certain boundaries that would have been wiser left alone, what with the kissing of hands and helping self to same.” He lifted her hand and very slightly smiled. “As I have done yet again.” Releasing his hold, he immediately clasped his hands behind his back. “Considering you’ve known me a total of… three days? Four? I believe my actions might be inappropriate. However, considering a voiced intention to court and an acceptance, they aren’t. Such would be my point of confusion, or rather, my hesitancy.”

  Rachel stared up at him before giving a slight shake of her head. “I cannot answer this question,” she told him. “I–” Rachel pressed her lips into a thin line. “I have no qualifications to do so.” Blast and damnation!

  “Qualifications?” he repeated with a mild tone of incredulity. “Rachel, qualifications have nothing to do with how I’m to treat you. All that should influence your decision is what you feel appropriate and acceptable. I don’t wish to make you at all uncomfortable.”

  Yet he had caused her to be uncomfortable with the voicing of the question, much to her chagrin. Rachel’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked away. “ ‘What you feel appropriate and acceptable,’ ” she repeated with chilled calm. “A simple enough statement but by no means a simple guide to response.” She tapped several staccato beats upon her upper arm before almost tenaciously meeting and holding his brown gaze. “I have no… basis to feel anything. I have been trained to regard life as a business opportunity. Feelings and appropriate levels of petting between a man and woman never once came into the realm of my studies. How, then, am I to answer your question?”

  “With your heart,” he answered easily and quietly.

  Rachel scoffed and opened her fan, the action serving to hide the cringe. “A heart filled with a passion for business and hidden meanings. Base an answer on that for something it hasn’t been trained to answer: Disaster.”

  He remained silent for a long time, but when he said, “Rachel, I need to know the boundaries,” the sudden presence of tightness within his tone once more drew her focus. He actually swallowed hard, glancing away several times as he cleared his throat. “If I act upon my own… inclination,” he resumed in a calmer voice, “I will likely distance myself from any possibility of a friendship. I would rather that not happen.”

  Her brow
lowered momentarily. “Why must I make a decision regarding boundaries when you have set and held to an apparent level of progression?”

  Robert clenched his jaw as he held her gaze, but his expression didn’t seem irritated or angry. It only appeared intense. He slightly shook his head. “Rachel, please. Do not put that responsibility solely on my person.”

  Irritation began to rise within. “I do not understand why I must be held in such a position of responsibility and leadership.” She snapped her fan closed and pointed at him with it. “Up to this point, brief as it may be, you have shown yourself to be trustworthy and… and… and it does not matter!” she finished emphatically. “I do not know what boundaries to set in this. Never have I experienced what would be classified as a ‘mature’ or ‘intimate relationship’, and yet you wish for me to set the boundaries?” She scoffed. “You must lead in this, Robert, for I have no experience and am unable to do so!”

  At the admittance of weakness and limitation, Rachel experienced an extreme slip of bodily control and actually stomped her foot before glaring off in the distance. Unable? she protested inwardly. Why can I not do this as well as– A hand tenderly touched her back and Rachel stiffened, yet she forced herself to accept the action. He didn’t retreat from it, either. He only continued to offer her the comforting showing of affection and support, bombarding Rachel with the memories of deeper embraces shared between her and her father; her and Todd; her and Maggie; her and her mother–

  Rachel fisted her hands and shut her eyes tight. She didn’t want to banish the memories, and yet she did not want to face them when her future had been so completely altered from what she once had. Robert Trent’s touch was the first she had accepted in years, other than Todd’s friendly embrace, and that amount of trust to bestow to a near stranger exhausted her. But he had vocalized an intent to court. Then he exhibited the same, even going so far as to show jealousy for a possible threat to his standing within her life. Then the acknowledgment of an attraction to her persona. Now a wish for a boundary she didn’t know how to set…. Rachel felt off-balance and ready to tumble, especially when he had decided to give her the control.