Chapter 23 #3
“But his failure to do so does not make this my responsibility.”
The obvious vindication vanished. “Tamsin—”
“No, Leo. Leo. Listen to me.”
And he did. Perhaps because she had never spoken to him this way before.
“I love you. I want you to be happy,” Tamsin affirmed. “And if Miss Despencer is the woman you have chosen, I sincerely hope she chooses you in return. But I cannot make her do so.”
Her brother looked away. “I did not ask you to.”
“You asked me to call upon her. You asked Father to speak to her family. You suggested I arrange an encounter here in my home. You have asked everyone what ought to be done, except for the one person who can actually answer you.”
His brow furrowed.
“Augusta,” Tamsin said plainly.
Her brother did not scoff. Not exactly. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
Leopold’s jaw tightened.
Tamsin softened her voice. “You knew her a fortnight before she went away.”
His expression closed, his entire body stiffening. “That hardly means I mistook my feelings. I know what I felt.”
“I never said otherwise—”
“And you and everyone else treated me the way you would a boy with a passing fancy.”
“Perhaps we were wrong.” That quieted him.
“But she has been gone for months, Leo. You have spent all that time deciding what her absence meant to you and railing against it. She has had the same months in which to decide what it meant to her. You cannot begin again where you left off merely because she has come home.”
Something in his face shifted then. Not anger, but pain. “What if she no longer wants to choose me?”
At last, they had come to the heart of the matter. He was no longer the aggrieved lover, nor was he the confident eldest son. He was a man uncertain of himself, and the object of his affections, simply her brother.
Tamsin’s heart ached with real sympathy. “Oh, Leo. I cannot know what must be done. I wish I did. I would tell you if I knew.”
“But what am I supposed to do now?”
A flurry of answers fluttered about in her mind. Write to her. Call again. Speak to her father. Wait a week. Send flowers. Send a book, on a topic you spoke of. Anything!
She halted those thoughts as she took in a slow, gentle breath, before speaking to her brother as kindly as she knew how. “I think you will have to decide for yourself.”
His chin drew back. For a moment he simply stared, mouth slightly open. Thinking for himself had apparently not been among the possible outcomes he had anticipated.
Roman coughed. Tamsin turned her head with concern, but found her husband’s expression remained perfectly solemn. His eyes, however, were not. They fairly glimmered with laughter.
She hastily gave her attention back to Leopold before she did something he would find immensely insulting.
Like giggling. “I can tell you what I think,” she said, tone properly level.
“If Miss Despencer is willing to speak with you directly on the subject, then speak with her. Not her mother or her father. Find out from the lady herself what she thinks.”
“What should I say, exactly?” His gaze was on the carpet, his arms folded tight across his chest.
Tamsin did allow herself a smile now. “The truth would be a novel beginning.”
He huffed and raised his gaze to hers. “Tamsin.”
Did she truly have to do everything? “Tell her you still care for her. Ask whether she wishes you to continue paying your addresses. Listen to her answer.”
Leopold looked toward the window. “What if she says no?”
“Then she says no, and you must honor that decision.”
His face tightened. Tamsin wanted to go to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She wanted to tell him it would be all right, that she would find some way to help.
But her hand remained in her husband’s, and she remained seated.
“You will survive it, Leo,” she said gently.
Leopold gave a humorless laugh. “Comforting.”
“I did not say you would enjoy it.”
That earned a small smile. He stood there another moment before walking toward the door, and turning back to her with a shrug. “I had hoped you would be more useful.”
The words might once have hurt. Instead Tamsin tightened her hold on Roman, who glowered at her brother.
Leopold seemed to hear himself a moment too late as he winced. “Tamsin, I did not mean to be unkind.”
“I know, Leo.” She went to him at last. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He bent slightly to kiss her cheek.
Tamsin put her hands on his arms and fixed him with the most sisterly stare she could manage, trying to show affection and firmness in one go. “You must court your own lady.”
This time he did smile, however reluctantly. “I suppose I must.” Leopold looked toward Roman. “You have nothing to add?”
Her husband had risen with Tamsin, and now met her gaze. He looked back at Leopold. “Nothing whatsoever.”
Tamsin loved him a little for that, and the knowledge made her breath catch.
Loved him not just a little, but a little more.
Oh dear.
After Leopold muttered something beneath his breath about newlyweds, he took his leave and departed. The room was quiet for several moments while Tamsin stared at her husband, her thoughts already leaving her brother’s issue behind.
She remained standing until the sound of the front door closing reached them, then exhaled. She needed a distraction from the turn her thoughts had taken before she did something strange, such as giving in to the impulse to run and throw her arms around her husband.
The man was still standing beside his chair, the folded paper remained in his hand.
Ah. The perfect distraction. Tamsin gestured to it. “What is that?”
“Something Hargrove sent.”
As she had suspected before. Her stomach sank. “Is it important?”
Roman nodded. “Yes.”
“And you were going to your study?”
“I planned to speak to you about luncheon, first. The kitchen is likely waiting to send it up still, if you are yet hungry—but then I heard Leopold, and I wanted to know if you needed me.”
Her heart lifted, just enough to ease the ache in her chest. “You could have ignored him and gone directly to your study.”
“I considered it.” Roman’s mouth twitched. “Very seriously.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “I wanted to know if you needed me. You asked me to stay.”
The simplicity of the explanation caught somewhere beneath her ribs. “But you wanted to be in your study?”
“Yes.”
Tamsin laughed softly.
Roman crossed the carpet to take her hand again, a strange look in his eyes. “I am trying, Tamsin.”
Her laughter faded. “I know.”
He bent nearer, his gaze fully upon her, an intensity she did not know how to mediate.
She looked at the paper still held in his hand, then at him. “I did not need you to step in.”
The upward twitch of his lips again. “No, of course you did not.”
The truth slipped from her. “I think I would have been angry if you had.”
This elicited a solemn nod of agreement from him. “I know that now.”
She had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. “You learned quickly.”
“I had considerable incentive.” Roman’s head tilted to the side, somehow managing to bring them closer.
Oh dear. What had he said? Incentive? She hazarded uncertainly, “Fear of your wife?”
“Among other things.” His head bent, his nose brushed hers. “But also a healthy respect for her, and a desire for her happiness.”
His lips met hers at last, and she forgot entirely about whatever it was in his hand and put her own around his shoulders.
His arms went around her and he pulled her close, her body flush against his, as he kissed her with a thoroughness she had not at all expected in the middle of the day in a room where anyone might walk through the door.
Indeed, as he held her in his embrace, she leaned into him fully and enjoyed the thoroughness of his attentions.
Finally he moved away but not far, his forehead touching hers with his eyes closed. “My wife. There is little I would not do to see you happy.”
The declaration startled as much as it pleased. Tamsin tilted her chin up to brush her lips over his one more time, lightly. Heat had blossomed across her cheeks and she ought to step away. A lady surely would worry about composing herself in such a moment.
Yet she stayed. “I could have luncheon brought to your study. If you are not watched while you eat, I am not certain you will. And you must keep up your strength.”
He moved back and stared down at her, eyebrows raised. “You want me to go to my study?”
Surprisingly, she did not resent the idea in the slightest. “Go. I will join you for the meal shortly, and then you have work to do.”
His lips twisted, somewhat skeptically.
“I mean it. Go save your barbican.”
“Preserve.”
She blinked at him. “Pardon?”
“I am attempting to preserve the barbican. Saving it sounds melodramatic.”
Tamsin stared. Roman kissed her cheek before she could answer and she watched him leave with the smallest of smiles on her lips.