by Darcy Burke
“Is that Lord Gregory with her?” Wexford scowled.
Tobias tensed. “Yes.” They stood rather close to one another, and she was smiling up at him.
“You need to get down there.” Lucien started toward the other door that would take them to the ladies’ staircase, and Wexford followed.
Only Tobias couldn’t move. His feet were rooted to the floor and his gaze was fixed on Fiona. And Lord Gregory.
A moment later, he felt a tug on his sleeve. “Come on.”
Tobias didn’t look at Wexford. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Fiona as she laughed at something Lord Gregory said. Tobias’s body went completely rigid as Fiona touched Lord Gregory’s arm.
He finally turned away. “I can’t do it. Yes, I’m a pathetic coward. I had my heart broken once before, and since Fiona has already rejected me, I should expect failure again.”
Lucien scoffed. “Priscilla didn’t break your heart. You said so yourself at the time.”
“Well, it bloody well felt like it. I was humiliated.” Not because she’d chosen someone else over him and everyone knew it, but because he should have known better. He should have realized there was nothing really between them, that Priscilla had only taken their courtship as seriously as her father told her to. And once someone with a higher rank came forward, that was not at all.
What if Tobias had this wrong too? What if the things he imagined Fiona felt for him were only in his mind? “This is different,” he whispered, staring at the painting hanging on the wall opposite but not seeing any of its detail. “I don’t think I can survive a rejection from Fiona.”
“Christ, you’re being melodramatic.” Lucien gave him a gentle shove. “You’d rather let Lord Gregory do his worst and not even try?”
“Come on, Deane, if you love her, she’s worth the risk. And the pain, if it comes to that.” Wexford thumped him on the back. “I wager it’ll hurt even worse if you don’t fight for her.”
They were right. They were more than right. This was nothing like Priscilla because Fiona was, well, Fiona. He knew precisely who she was, and more importantly, she did too. She wasn’t some social-climbing miss looking for the best marriage. In fact, she’d declared her intent not to do that. She was utterly unique, and he loved her unequivocally.
“So much for my attempts to stop being an ass,” he muttered. He started toward the door that led to the stairs. “Do either of you have any idea what set they’re on?”
Lucien consulted his watch fob. “If they are on schedule, they are likely in the second.”
Tobias practically ran down the stairs, which were thankfully not crowded. The hall below was, however, and getting into the ballroom took longer than he’d hoped. By the time he stepped inside, he feared the set would be drawing to a close.
Hurrying between people and ignoring those who tried to speak with him, he arrived at Fiona’s side, breathless, just as the music stopped. “Miss Wingate, it’s time for our dance.”
Fiona stared at him, clearly confused. And why wouldn’t she be? They’d made no plans for dancing or anything else.
“She’s already agreed to partner me,” Lord Gregory said affably.
Angling his head, Tobias smiled at Fiona. “Did you forget?” He narrowed his eyes slightly and tried to silently plead with her to agree.
“You can dance with Lord Gregory later,” Miss Lancaster put in from just behind Fiona, proving that her eavesdropping skills were quite advanced. “There’s another waltz.”
Fiona turned to Lord Gregory with an apologetic smile. “I hope you don’t mind delaying our dance. I seem to have forgotten that I promised this one to my guardian.”
Tobias flinched inwardly, wishing she hadn’t called him that. He didn’t need any further reminders that he should not be doing what he was about to do.
“Of course, I don’t mind. Now I have something splendid to look forward to.” Lord Gregory stepped to the side.
Fiona took Tobias’s arm. As they walked toward the dance floor, she looked at him askance, her expression dubious. “Did your grandmother put you up to this?”
Chapter 19
Fiona’s question made Tobias stop, but only for the barest second because the music was starting. He swept her into his arms just as the waltz began.
It was heavenly. The sparkling candlelight reflected by the glass chandeliers and the mirrors. The blur of color as they swirled around the dancefloor. The lush notes of the music rising in the air and propelling the dancers.
“We’ve never had music before,” she said, her eyes locked with his. He looked splendid this evening in a black coat and silver-threaded waistcoat. When she’d imagined her guardian on her journey from Shropshire, she’d never envisioned a handsome man who made her pulse race.
“Not true. I hummed the first time.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “On second thought, I believe we determined that didn’t qualify as music.”
She very much appreciated his ability to laugh at himself. “Perhaps with practice, you will gain the skill as I did with curtseying. After the queen’s drawing room debacle.”
“I doubt that,” he said wryly. “But I’m willing to try, and you can tell me if I’m successful. Now, why did you mention my grandmother? And tell me about your interview with her.”
“It was…enlightening,” Fiona borrowed the dowager’s word. “I see where your father might have inherited his autocratic tendencies.”
“Oh dear, what did she say?”
“She went on quite a bit about matchmaking and the importance of it. She’s considering becoming my sponsor in place of Lady Pickering.”
Tobias wrinkled his nose. “That will not go well. The only woman who is perhaps more formidable than my grandmother, at least in my experience, is Lady Pickering.”
“I have a hard time imagining that. Lady Pickering is so pleasant.” Fiona liked her very much. “Not to say your grandmother is not,” she hastily added.
Tobias laughed softly, a dark, throaty sound that never failed to make her want to smile in return. “I don’t mind admitting she can be rather intimidating on occasion. I was shocked when she arrived earlier today. I was not expecting her.”
“That’s the impression I had from Carrin.”
Tobias pressed his palm more firmly against her back, and it was hard not to recall his touch upon her the night before. She tried not to shiver and failed. His pupils darkened, and she knew he’d felt it. “Tell me why you think my grandmother provoked me to dance with you.”
“It wasn’t about you. She was not in favor of Lord Gregory’s courtship. I wondered if she asked you to prevent me from spending time with him. It seemed a logical conclusion since you’ve never asked me to dance before.” He had though. “At least not in public.” She ought to look away from him because the intensity of his gaze was making it hard for her to focus on the waltz.
She did not.
“What is her quarrel with Lord Gregory?” Tobias seemed to hold his breath a moment.
“She never actually said, only that I could do better. She did, however, say quite plainly that she was not in favor of the match. I still don’t understand.” Fiona frowned. “Lord Gregory comes from an excellent family, and he’s a very kind and interesting person.”
“To you, he’s a good match.” Tobias broke eye contact, and she suddenly felt off-kilter. She clasped his hand and shoulder more tightly. “If you think you’d be happy with him, you should marry him.” Tobias sounded strained, as if he struggled to force the words out. Was he upset?
Why shouldn’t he be? He’d proposed marriage to her last night, and she’d refused him. Just as Lady Bentley had done two years before. Even worse, now he was also facing the loss of something he deeply cherished.
Her chest squeezed as she thought of how he must be feeling. Yet here he was at this assembly, and in what seemed to be a good mood. She wondered if there was a reason for it. “I saw Miss Goodfellow a short while ago. I’m surprised you didn’t waltz wit
h her.”
His gaze found hers once more, and there was a warmth to the pewter depths that made her heart beat a little faster. “I have no intention of dancing with Miss Goodfellow or anyone else this evening. I came tonight to see you enjoy this ball that you’ve been so looking forward to, and to tell you I’m not getting married before the twelfth. Horethorne will be yours.”
She missed her step, but he held her fast, keeping them from faltering as he continued to steer them behind the couple in front of them. Had she heard him right? She can’t have. “You’re giving up?”
“Not at all. I’m choosing not to allow my father’s control to guide me. I was approaching marriage the way he wanted me to—as a business arrangement—instead of the way I wanted to.”
Her breath tangled in her throat. “And what way is that?”
“With love and hope for a happy union. With the woman of my dreams.”
The ache in her chest grew more pronounced. “Oh, Tobias. That’s lovely.”
His nostrils flared and his lips parted. “You shouldn’t call me that in the middle of the ballroom, particularly after you declined my marriage proposal.” Though his body tensed, he said the words with a light humor that she suddenly realized was as much a part of what drew her to him as anything else—his generosity, his care, and so much more.
“Furthermore, I don’t deserve such familiarity from you when I seem to keep behaving like an ass. On that note, I’ve had a temporary bedchamber set up on the first floor in the antechamber off the drawing room for Mrs. Tucket. Now she will only need to bother with one set of stairs.”
“That’s incredibly thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
“I should have thought of it immediately.” He pressed his lips together and appeared disappointed—in himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Fiona moved her hand toward his neck, wishing she could wipe the lines in his features away. “It only matters that you did.” And he was also giving her his mother’s house. She knew that wasn’t precisely the case, but his actions, or inaction, made it seem like a gift.
They danced without speaking then, and Fiona was only aware of the way they moved together and the touch of his hands upon her. He smelled of sandalwood and…maps. Probably because she associated them with him now. He’d increased the quantity of them in his library so that she had yet to peruse them all.
“Are you going to take my grandmother’s advice?” he asked, startling her slightly but not breaking the spell between them.
“To be honest, I’m still trying to decide what to do. I have made one decision though.”
The music drew to a close, and the dance ended.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I need to settle Mrs. Tucket somewhere—either in Shropshire or at Horethorne. I plan to discuss it with her tomorrow.” She realized they were still standing on the dancefloor, their hands clasped, as if they would continue dancing if only the music would begin again.
Tobias seemed to recognize this too, for he released her, only to tuck her hand around his arm and lead her from the floor. “Has she expressed a desire to leave London?”
“Yes. The incident at the ball last Saturday was rather embarrassing for her.”
“I am sorry for that. Please let me know what I can do to help. Although, I am not sure your cousin would allow her to live on his estate. He was quite relieved that your invitation to London included your maid.”
Fiona had thought of that. It was another reason she was glad to have Horethorne. “Yes, that is a concern. Is there someplace she could retire on the estate? Just a small cottage would be acceptable.”
“I’m not certain, but Mr. Davies is the steward, and he can help you. He’s incredibly kind and knowledgeable.”
“You know him well?”
“My whole life.”
She couldn’t discount the sensation that this wasn’t right, that Horethorne should be his. They were heading toward the garden, she realized. The doors were open, and the air in the ballroom was quite warm. “Are we going outside?”
He slowed. “Do you want to?”
Her eyes met his, and instead of answering, she continued through the open doorway out onto the terrace. Lanterns lit the walkways, and an oval pool in the center reflected the light. She’d somehow missed that aspect of the garden when she’d rushed inside with Mrs. Renshaw the week before.
“If there’s nowhere suitable for Mrs. Tucket at Horethorne, I will find a place for her at Deane Hall.”
Fiona paused near the pool. “You would do that?”
“Of course.”
“Your father’s support of me is such a mystery, and now you are continuing it. I will be forever grateful. And indebted.”
He shook his head and guided her along the pool, then veered away from it toward the wall that divided this half of the garden from that of the men’s. It was less illuminated here and more secluded.
“It is no longer a mystery.” He stopped and turned to face her. “My grandmother explained why our fathers were so close.”
Fiona withdrew her hand from his arm. She could just make out his features in the shadows. “Why?”
“They were lovers. Since Oxford.”
Sucking in a breath, Fiona felt as though she’d found a long-missing piece of a puzzle. “That explains why my parents’ relationship always seemed so aloof.” It also explained why certain pages of that book Fiona had found in her father’s library seemed more worn than others—specifically the ones with drawings of only men engaged in sexual acts. “Did they love each other?”
“They must have. Look at the lengths to which my father went to provide for your future.” He smiled. “I admit I was glad to learn my father had known love. I was also jealous, since he wasn’t ever able to bestow any upon me.”
Fiona reached up and cupped his jaw. “I’m sure things were very difficult for him.”
“Certainly, yes. I can’t imagine the life they were forced to lead. I am sad they had to live falsely, which perhaps resulted in our mothers’ unhappiness. However, without that, you and I would not be here. I must also admit that when my grandmother first began to reveal this to me, I thought she was going to tell me that we were somehow related.”
Gasping, Fiona took her hand from his jaw and covered her mouth. “Oh, that would have been awful.”
“I thought so too, but then I wondered if it mattered since it seems we do not have a future together.”
She lowered her hand between them. “Tobias—”
He put his gloved finger on her lips. “Just let me say one more thing. When I spoke earlier about the woman of my dreams, I meant you, Fiona. I love you, and not because you’re inheriting my mother’s house or because I desire you above all other women. Which, I do, by the way. I love you for your sweet nature, your inquisitive sensibilities, and your hunger for life. You make me laugh, provoke me to think about things I don’t usually, and you inspire me to be a better man.”
Her throat constricted, and it was a moment before she could speak. “So your grandmother was playing matchmaker when she deterred me from Lord Gregory. She was trying to drive me to you.”
“If that’s true, she did an exceptionally poor job of it,” he said with a laugh. “Did she say anything to encourage you to reconsider my suit?”
“I suppose not, but she didn’t really need to. And she was wrong anyway—Lord Gregory is more than suitable, and he’ll make someone a fine husband. Just not me. He is not the man of my dreams, and someone I respect and admire once told me I shouldn’t settle for less than that.”
“You’ve decided what the man of your dreams should be?”
“He’s the man who’s made all my dreams come true. Dreams I didn’t even know I had. I thought I wanted freedom—and I did. I didn’t want to feel trapped and alone like my mother did. Cassandra once said to me that a marriage with love was the best freedom a woman could hope for. I think she might be right.”
He drew her into his
arms, pulling her deeper into the shadows. “If you aren’t talking about me, say so now.” His lips hovered over hers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course, it’s you. It’s only ever been you.”
Their lips met, tongues and teeth clashing as they kissed with a new and desperate abandon. Nothing stood between them now, just clothing and a rather inconvenient location.
She pulled her mouth from his. “This is where I kissed you the first time.”
He glanced around briefly and grinned. “So it is. I may have a plaque placed on this very spot.”
Giggling as he kissed her jaw and neck, she asked, “What would it say?”
“Don’t get caught.”
He devoured her laugh with another kiss, turning her body until he pushed her up against the door in the wall. Yes, exactly the spot. She thrust her hands into his hair as he kissed down her neck and licked along the rise of her breast above her neckline.
“Should we go back inside?” she asked between rasping breaths.
“Where inside?” His voice was low, dusky, and made her want to beg him to kneel down between her legs and repeat what he’d done to her last night.
“To the ball.” She gasped as he cupped her breast, pushing it up as he suckled her flesh.
“I suppose we should, but there is a bedroom—a few, actually—on the second floor of the men’s side. Or we could wait until we get home…” He kissed up to the hollow of her throat, making her body quiver until she wanted to whimper.
“Except your grandmother is there,” she managed.
“Bollocks.”
She reached inside his coat and pulled him against her as she licked the edge of his ear and whispered, “Upstairs it is.”
His hand moved behind her, and the door gave way. He didn’t let her fall, holding her close against him as he propelled them into the other garden. Closing the door swiftly, he set the latch before taking her into his arms again and kissing her thoroughly.
