by Darcy Burke
“No.” He blew out a breath. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that was an added benefit. I could obtain a special license, and we could be wed next week.”
“Or I could repeat my answer—it’s still no—and I’ll inherit the house in a matter of days.”
“Is that what you want?”
She heard the anguish in his voice, and her heart twisted. “I want…freedom.” She thought of her mother’s warning, that she be sure before making a lifetime commitment. There had been regret in her counsel, and when Fiona recalled her mother’s occasional melancholy, she knew she didn’t want to feel that way. As though she were trapped with no choices, no freedom. “This is awful.”
“Just the way my father liked things.”
“You believe he envisioned this would happen?”
“I believe he set me up to fail.” Tobias raked his hand through his hair, and his shoulders drooped. “Or he knew me better than I know myself. Whether he expected me to surrender to temptation with you or someone else, he seemed to have been betting on the fact that I wouldn’t be able to wed in three months.” He let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I came close though.”
Until she’d ruined his chances.
“Fiona, I understand the lure of everything my father has dangled before you, but please reconsider. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose Horethorne.”
“You wouldn’t lose it. I’d allow you to visit whenever you like.” Allow him. He would need her permission, and that wasn’t the same as calling it your home. Fiona understood that distinction and couldn’t ignore the guilt cutting through her. Could she really consider this a dream come true when it came at the expense of Tobias’s dreams?
“But that isn’t quite the same, is it?” He bent and retrieved his waistcoat and cravat. Pivoting toward the chair, he swept up his coat and laid it over his arm with the other garments. “Good night, Fiona.”
She said nothing as he disappeared into his chamber, the door clicking shut behind him.
Coming here tonight had been a terrible idea. What had she hoped to accomplish?
Conflict battled inside her. Tobias had admitted he’d never wanted to be her guardian, and he’d repeatedly done things that indicated his lack of genuine concern for her. But then he’d also done the opposite—listened to her and changed his mind, given her things and experiences that brought her joy and showed how much he cared.
He hadn’t asked to have her in his life or to steal the thing that meant the most to him in the world. The real miracle was that he didn’t despise her. Still, her presence was likely a painful thorn.
Well, then she would remove it. As soon as she inherited Horethorne, she would go there immediately. Then she wouldn’t be his concern any longer.
Or you could marry him.
She shook her head, as if the question had been spoken aloud and the speaker could see her reaction. His proposal had been made in haste, in a completely heated moment. Even if it hadn’t, could she ever truly know if he wanted her and not just his mother’s house? Did she want him to want her?
Stalking from his sitting room, she stopped short as she took in her surroundings, looking for anyone who might be about. It was quite late. Even the servants would be abed, wouldn’t they?
Fiona went to her room and, removing her dressing gown, slid between the covers, shivering for a few minutes until the bed began to grow warm from her heat. Or was it his lingering heat?
What a blissful interlude that had been. Totally unexpected.
Totally?
After their kiss last night, a small part of her hoped it would happen again, but she hadn’t expected the combustion that had flared between them. She’d dreamed it perhaps…
Now, she must accept that it would never happen again. Not after she took his house. They would go their separate ways, and she would hold on to tonight as a cherished memory.
Except they wouldn’t go their separate ways. How could she when she owned his beloved Horethorne? They would be linked together, through the estate, forever.
She forced herself to think of the assembly the following evening, or more accurately, tonight, given the lateness of the hour. Since working so hard to be able to attend, she should be filled with anticipation. Instead, her emotions were bittersweet. It was likely to be her first and last Phoenix Club ball.
She would just have to ensure it was memorable.
What a wretched night of sleep.
Tobias yearned to lay his head down on his desk, but he needed to go to Westminster before coming home to dress for the assembly. Before he could stand, Carrin came into his study. The butler looked…harassed.
“My lord, the dowager countess has arrived. Did I, ah, somehow miss the fact that she was coming to town?”
Jumping to his feet, Tobias smoothed his hair back with his hands. “If you did, I did as well. I suspect this is an intentional surprise.” His grandmother had done this to his father at least twice that Tobias knew of.
Carrin sagged with relief. “Very good, sir. She’s waiting for you in the drawing room.”
“I’d best not keep her waiting.” Tobias hurried past the butler, then stopped and swung back around. “Where are we to put her? The best rooms are all occupied by our guests.”
“It’s probably easiest to move Mrs. Tucket to a smaller chamber upstairs,” Carrin suggested.
“Yes, do that at once. With my apologies to Mrs. Tucket. Hopefully, she will understand.” Tobias felt bad she would have to climb an additional flight of stairs with her mobility issues. Perhaps there was another option. He’d think on it.
Carrin nodded in response, and Tobias turned on his heel to dash up to the drawing room. His grandmother was a diminutive woman with an immense personality. Or at least she was intensely intimidating. Perhaps those were not the same thing.
Affixing a smile on his face, he swept into the drawing room to find her seated near the hearth. “Welcome, Grandmother. I wish I’d known you were coming. I would have ensured we had a room prepared.”
“They’re taking care of it now, although I was told my usual chamber is currently occupied by your ward.” Her slender upper lip gently curled.
Though she was seventy-five, she looked more than a decade younger—she still had some dark hair mixed in with the gray, and the lines that etched her face were few and gentle, most of them occurring around her mouth, likely owing to the way she pursed her lips. Which she was doing presently.
“Shall I have her removed to another chamber?” In his mind, he was already shuffling her to Miss Lancaster’s room and transferring Miss Lancaster to Mrs. Tucket’s room.
The dowager waved her hand. “Don’t bother. I don’t think I’ll be here more than a week.” That was a relatively short stay since the journey took two days each way, and that assumed decent traveling weather.
Tobias sat near her. “I’m quite surprised to see you here.”
“As you were supposed to be. I kept waiting for an invitation to your wedding, but when one did not arrive, I decided to come see what the devil is going on.”
A horrible sinking feeling settled in Tobias’s gut. “Why did you think I was getting married?”
“Because your father’s last letter to me said you would be doing so at the start of the Season.”
“Is that all he said?” Tobias wondered if she knew about his father’s marriage requirement.
Her still-dark brows arched. “Yes, why?”
“No reason. I’m pleased to see you, Grandmother.” And shocked. She rarely came to town, and he was flattered she’d want to come check on him. Even if it was strange.
She hadn’t even come to London when her son had become gravely ill. But it had been December, the absolute worst time to travel. Instead of visiting, she’d sent a letter every day, and in return, his father had his secretary draft a response every three days. Because he was a jackass like that.
“How are things with your ward? Is she amenable? Attractive? Betrothed yet
?”
“Not really, yes, and no.” His honesty about Fiona surprised him. “Marriage is not high on her list of priorities.”
“What balderdash. Isn’t she nearly on the shelf?”
“She’ll be twenty-two next week.”
“Then yes, she’s almost past the point of marriageability.”
“Why? How is it that I am twenty-eight, and no one says I’m ineligible for marriage?”
His grandmother stared at him, her blue-gray eyes the color of frost. “You can’t really be that obtuse. You’re an earl. And a wealthy one at that.”
“What I mean is, why is she—or any other young lady—suddenly unmarriageable? It’s not as if they’ve done something to lower their worth.” He hated the way that sounded, once again equating them with a product.
“Haven’t they? If they haven’t found a husband in the first year or perhaps two of being out, there must be a deficit. I suppose your ward can be excused.” Her lip curled again. “Because she hasn’t had a Season yet.”
“She’s attracted at least one suitor,” Tobias noted. That did not include him, because he wasn’t a suitor. He was merely the man who’d taken advantage of her.
“Then there is absolutely no reason for her to be unwed,” the dowager said firmly. “Give her an ultimatum.”
Tobias bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I, er, somewhat tried that. Miss Wingate has suffered some…challenges in adjusting from country life.”
“Your father should have seen that coming. I told him not to give her a Season, but he was adamant.” Her shoulders twitched, and her features displayed such a sharp expression of distaste that Tobias’s curiosity was pricked.
“What do you know of Miss Wingate? I don’t understand why Father made such a commitment to her. He could have settled a modest dowry on her and left it up to her cousin to see that she was wed.”
The dowager sat straighter, her interest clearly piqued. “She has a cousin?”
“She resided in a cottage on his estate.”
She emitted a thoroughly unladylike sound of derision. “That makes absolutely no sense. Your father was a fool not to let him handle the matter. Instead, he’s made her your problem. I am sorry for the way he’s treated you, Deane.” She pursed her lips again. “Overton, rather. This will take some getting used to.”
“It won’t bother me at all if you continue to call me Deane.” He smiled. “I prefer that, in fact.”
“That is unsurprising given the estrangement between you and your father. But you mustn’t take any of it to heart. You couldn’t be more different from him, what with his scandalous tendencies.” Her gaze softened but only slightly. “You would have no idea of those, however, since you are not aware of the reasons for his…commitment to Miss Wingate.”
His father had “scandalous tendencies” and that made him different from Tobias who also possessed…scandalous tendencies? Oh no—had his father carried on a liaison with Fiona’s mother? Was she his half-sister? Perhaps the “friendship” with Fiona’s father had been a ruse. Tobias’s blood went cold. “Was he having an affair?” He barely forced the words out.
“Since Oxford.” Again, her lips pursed. “At least he was skilled at keeping it hidden. I don’t think anyone ever knew about his vile sins against nature.”
Since Oxford. Had Fiona’s mother been a maid there? Wait. Vile sins against nature…
Tobias froze. “Who was he having an affair with?”
“That Wingate miscreant! They met at school. The only reason I know about it is because I saw them once.” A shudder passed over her once more, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“They carried on an affair all those years?” So many things made sense all of a sudden, including the cold relationship between his father and Tobias’s mother. To her credit, she’d never denigrated him to Tobias. She’d only said that he wasn’t capable of loving her, and she accepted that, especially since she had Tobias to love and love her in return. It was after learning this that Tobias had vowed to love his wife. Which would be impossible if he adhered to his father’s requirements. Perhaps that had been the man’s goal—to ensure that Tobias wouldn’t have time to fall in love.
“Yes,” his grandmother responded. “Your father traveled to Shropshire a few times a year. On occasion, Wingate came to Deane Hall, but I put a stop to that when you grew old enough to converse with visitors.”
Tobias thought back and tried to recall male visitors but couldn’t. Much of the ire he felt toward his father lessened as he tried to imagine the life he’d been forced to lead. He was still angry, however, for the hurt he’d caused Tobias’s mother.
Swallowing, Tobias looked to his grandmother. While she seemed disgusted by her son’s behavior, Tobias only wanted to understand it. “Did he love Wingate?”
His grandmother froze for a moment, her lips parted as her eyes seemed to stare at nothing. At length, she said, “I hadn’t considered that.” She blinked and focused on Tobias. “Could that have been true?”
“I hope so,” Tobias said softly, feeling as though he was finally glimpsing his true father. “Where you see vile, sinful behavior, I see a man who was trying to find happiness in a world that wouldn’t accept that which would make him so.”
“I hadn’t considered that he might have loved Wingate.” She frowned, but it seemed to be directed inwardly. “Still, that doesn’t excuse his treatment of your mother. She deserved better and so did you.”
A sudden burst of love expanded in his chest. “I appreciate you saying that. I was sad that my parents didn’t seem to love each other.”
“You have a romantic nature, just like your grandfather. He and I were fortunate to be a love match.”
Tobias barely remembered his grandfather. The man had died when Tobias was six. “You think I’m a romantic?”
She looked at him as if he had a third eye in the middle of his forehead. “Aren’t you?”
Tobias laughed with great warmth. This had to be the most remarkable conversation he’d ever had with his grandmother.
“I do believe you’re correct that your father must have loved that man,” she said.
Tobias agreed. “It now makes sense why Miss Wingate was so important to him. She was the daughter of his love, and as such, was like a daughter to my father.” The association made him quickly add, “But she has no relation to me.”
“Of course not.”
He exhaled with relief. If Fiona had been his sister… God, it didn’t bear thinking about any more than he already had. He’d spend a great deal of time erasing that thought from his mind.
“I’m surprised he had so little interaction with her,” Tobias said. “Like me, she had no clue as to why my father took such a vested interest in her future. We assumed our fathers had a close friendship and nothing more.”
“Do you plan to share this information with her?” The dowager wrinkled her nose. “Warn her that she must keep it secret.”
“I must tell her. She will want to know.” He could never keep this from Fiona, and not just because he’d already stupidly kept other things from her. Although on that score, he’d learned his lesson. Too late, however.
Tobias studied his grandmother for a moment. “Did you really come to inquire about my marriage, or was it to tell me about my father and Wingate?”
She waved her hand again. “I suppose I also wanted to meet your ward and offer assistance.” That didn’t answer his question, but he didn’t think she was going to. “I should not have declined to help you before. I was angry at your father for making you deal with her.”
“I haven’t really minded.” He had at first, of course, and had even told Fiona that. Inwardly wincing, he made a mental note to apologize for that again. He’d been an enormous ass.
“Haven’t you? It sounds as if she’s a disaster—refusing to marry and struggling to fit in.”
“She fits in fine, actually. She’s become quite close with Lady Cassandra Westbrook.”
Tobias eyed her with curiosity. “You’ve been paying attention.”
She huffed. “I receive the newspapers from town. Which is how I also know you have been misbehaving. Are you still up to your antics and evading the parson’s trap?”
“Actually, I was hoping to marry. I’ve just been…distracted.” Wholly. Irreparably. Wonderfully.
“By that troublesome ward. It’s good that I’m here. I’ll take over managing the chit, and I’ll toss her back to the countryside if I must. I can’t imagine—”
Tobias pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please stop. She’s not troublesome, and you’re not tossing her anywhere. She’s quite lovely, actually. She’s smart, charming, never fails to make me laugh, and she possesses a unique perspective that none of the other ladies in town has demonstrated.”
The dowager gaped at him. “Good heavens, Deane, you sound as though you’re in love with her.”
A queasy, giddy feeling swept over him. Yes, he was in love with her. That’s why he wanted to marry her. Not because he was desperate to shag her—though he was that too. And not because he wanted to keep Horethorne—though that was, as he’d said, an added benefit. The primary reason he wanted her for his wife—the only reason that mattered—was that he loved her. He couldn’t imagine her leaving. Just the notion of his grandmother “tossing her back to the countryside” made him want to vault out of his chair, rush to Fiona’s chamber, and beg her to stay.
Except he’d already proposed—badly, he now realized. Had she refused him because of the inadequacy of his proposal, or did she not feel the same? Was he heading straight for another Priscilla situation where he would be thrust aside, his heart broken?
He couldn’t compare Fiona to Priscilla. He’d thought he was in love two years ago, but that was nothing compared to what he felt now. Just the thought of seeing Fiona made his chest compress and then grow light with anticipation.
“I can tell from your silence that you have realized you do.” The dowager exhaled with what sounded like resignation. “What do you plan to do about it then?”
