Chapter Seventeen
Toby had introduced Anthony, Jamie, and Evie to Florence this morning.
She had been shy, but happy enough to take tea with everyone.
He’d explained they were his friends, which seemed to relax her slightly.
Barnaby had also been a success, and coaxed food out of Anthony and Jamie, which was no easy task.
After they’d left, Toby did what Evie had told him to. With trepidation, and a touch of fear, he’d gone to the nursery to ask Miss Haigh if he could take Florence and Barnaby out for a walk. The nanny seemed pleased and offered to come. He’d said he would be fine and hoped he was right.
Toby wasn’t sure if he should be alone with this child’s welfare in his hands, but Evie said for them to truly bond, he needed to show her he could look after her alone. He’d protested, but she’d shut every one of his objections down, until finally Toby had given in.
Since the night he’d gone to the nursery after the ball, things had changed for the better between them. He knew that. Florence talked to him now. Not a lot, but if he asked her a question, she answered. She also let him read a bedtime story to her every evening. Toby treasured those moments.
He liked to see her smile and decided it would be his life’s work to continue making her happy. Another thing he’d realized for certain was he now did indeed need a wife, but he would have to make that selection carefully, as Florence’s happiness was paramount to any decision.
“It’s a nice day for a walk in the park,” Toby said as they left the house. Holding out his hand, he held his breath until her little fingers slipped into his. Her hand was the most precious thing he’d ever held.
Him. A man who once needed no one, and in fact fought against that closeness, now wanted it with his ward. It was her innocence and vulnerability that brought out his protective instincts. He would never let her suffer as he had.
After wandering for a while and chatting to her about what they saw, to which she’d answered occasionally with a nod or smile, Toby noticed a group gathered in the park and headed that way.
The day was mild, and Florence wore her little jacket over her dress and bonnet in a matching shade of rose pink, looking cute.
They reached the ring of people and eased into a space. The young man to his left shuffled sideways to accommodate them. Barnaby then sat on Toby’s foot. Clearly the grass was damp.
“Lord Corbyn,” the young man then said, nodding.
He tried to put a name to the face. It was the eyes that gave him away. Liberty’s brother Edward.
“Lord Talbot,” Corbyn said, bowing. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Florence, my ward, and her dog Barnaby.”
Florence looked up at Liberty’s brother and then dropped into a credible curtsey while still holding Toby’s hand.
“Well, he’s a fine looking fellow,” Edward said, patting the golden head while smiling at Florence.
He felt yet another jolt of pain in his chest looking at the boy, because it made him think of the brother he’d lost too soon. Liberty and Toby had often discussed Edward and Mathew, and the men they’d one day become.
“Do you enjoy chess, Miss Florence?” Edward asked.
“I have never played,” she said.
“And you, my lord?” Toby asked him.
“We are neighbors, Lord Corbyn. My name is Edward.” He had that straightforward way of speaking his sister had once used. “And no, chess is not my game.”
“And I am Toby. Are you here alone, Edward?”
“No. Liberty is about to play.”
Toby’s head snapped around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t strain something.
There she was, seated at a nearby table, glasses perched on her nose, a small frown pulling at her brows.
She wore her favorite shade of pale blue, a deeper blue pelisse over it, and a matching bonnet.
A few fiery curls had escaped to frame her face, and his chest gave a traitorous squeeze at the sight.
Sweet, he thought. Something about this woman got to him, and he suspected part of that was due to the connection they’d once shared.
“The man who organizes this had no wish for Liberty to participate, which was enough to spur her on to do so,” Edward said.
“She’s taking that man apart. I knew she would, because he smirked at her.
Not a sound notion, Toby. As you know my sister, you’ll understand what I mean.
” The boy then held out a bag of hot chestnuts, which Toby slid his hand into, because hot chestnuts were a particular favorite of his. He then bent down to give Florence one.
He stood beside Liberty’s brother and watched her play, with Florence now leaning on his legs. She was crunching chestnuts and feeding bits to Barnaby. What surprised Toby was how comfortable he felt in that moment with these two, and the dog.
“I’m not a lip reader, you understand, Toby, but I think my sister’s opponent said something pitying to Liberty because she’s giving him her sickly-sweet smile,” Edward said.
Toby remembered that smile.
“Suffice to say, she will want to beat him soundly after that.”
Looking around them, Toby saw mainly men watching. A few were frowning and muttering and pointing at Liberty. A woman in their midst was not making them happy.
As if sensing him looking at them, several turned his way, and Toby sent them a hard look.
“You and my sister were once friends,” Edward said softly.
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “We were.”
“I was young, but I remember you because you had a younger brother and when he came with you to visit, he often played with me.”
Toby swallowed the lump in his throat those words produced.
“Please allow me to say how sorry I am for his death.”
“Thank you,” Toby rasped.
Florence touched his fingers briefly, almost as if she was reassuring him.
“When we nearly lost Liberty, I wondered how I would cope,” Edward said.
The solemn words had Toby’s blood running cold. Liberty had nearly died?
“When did she nearly die?” he forced out.
“Just before she was to enter society, she had an accident and fell off her horse,” Edward said.
She could have broken her neck and he would never have known.
He was about to ask another question when the man Liberty was playing against let out a roar as he rose to his feet. “You should not have been able to beat me!”
“Look after Florence, Edward,” Toby said. He then climbed the rope that penned the chess opponents in and was standing beside the man before Liberty could get out of her chair.
“Problem?” he said with a calm he was not feeling. Liberty had nearly died. He couldn’t shake that thought from his head.
“She should not have beaten me!” The man spoke in a thick accent that Toby thought could have been Russian.
“Because I am a woman, therefore I cannot beat you?” Liberty said, in a tone that boded trouble for the man as she regained her feet.
“She—”
“That’s Lady Liberty to you, and be warned,” Toby said, eyeing the man. “If you say anything further which does not include congratulations, then I will take that as an insult to her.”
“I am quite capable of handling this,” Liberty fumed.
The man glared at her, then just when Toby thought he’d have to teach him a lesson in manners, he stormed away.
Liberty rounded on Toby. “Why are you here? You should not have stepped in. What if someone notices?” Her eyes were shooting left and right.
“I don’t care if someone sees. He should not have spoken to you that way, my lady,” Toby snapped.
“He stepped in because that man was threatening you, Liberty. You should thank Lord Corbyn,” Edward said, arriving with Florence, who was now holding his hand, and Barnaby.
Her teeth snapped together, and then her eyes fell to the child.
“Why are you holding a child’s hand, and who does that dog belong to?”
“She is my ward, and lives with me.” Toby smiled at Florence reassuringly. “Florence, this is Lady Liberty, and she is Edward’s sister. That is Barnaby.” He pointed at the dog.
“You have a ward?” He could see the shock on her face.
“Come this way if you please, Lady Liberty, and I will introduce you to your next opponent,” a man with a spectacular moustache said to Liberty.
He could see she had many questions, but they would wait. Now she had another man to beat. This one was older, with thick gray hair and a smile, which thankfully he directed at her.
Toby, Florence, and Edward walked back to where they’d been watching, but the crowd had grown and Florence could not see over the heads. Bending, he asked, “Would you like me to lift you into my arms so you can see?”
She nodded.
It felt awkward, but he managed it. Lifting her high, Toby held her against his chest. When her little arms looped around his neck, the lump in his throat nearly choked him. Barnaby once again settled on his foot.
Edward then held out a twist of paper. Florence took a lemon drop, as did Toby.
“What really happened between you and my sister all those years ago?” Edward said as they watched the man make his first move. “I asked her, but she refused to tell me anything other than you had grown apart.”
Clearly Liberty’s brother had the same forthright nature she’d once had.
Toby kept his eyes on the game. Watched Liberty move pieces around the chessboard after careful consideration. He didn’t remember her playing chess when they were young. Liberty had always wanted to be outside, riding or walking, but apparently she was good at it.
“I may have been young, but I saw her the day she came home from your house,” Edward said softly, and Toby thought the only way he could get him to stop was to walk away, but as he wanted to watch Liberty, he stayed.
“Saw her lying on her bed sobbing as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. I climbed on with her and lay beside her. We stayed there all day not talking. She clutched my hand and wept.”
He’d said the words softly so only Toby could hear. Florence was loudly sucking on her lemon drop.
The thought of Liberty weeping for him burned inside his chest. Toby didn’t want that pain. Had worked hard to not feel.
“I hated you. Vowed I always would do so.”
“Then you shouldn’t have offered me a lemon drop,” Toby said, because he had no idea what else to say.
“I also have more roasted chestnuts, so you may not get one of them.”
“I am, of course, desolate.”
“As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to understand that everyone does something for a reason. You and my sister were best friends; even I could see that. So something had to have made you turn from her.”
“Edward, what happened is in the past now. We cannot go back and right the wrongs even if we should wish it.”
Toby felt Edward’s eyes on the side of his face, but he did not speak again. They stood in silence then and watched Liberty play.
“When did she start wearing glasses?” Toby asked minutes later.
“After the accident. Have you not noticed the changes in my sister?”
He had, but believed they’d come with age. The more sedate pace she walked and danced. The eyeglasses. How she’d lost her zest for life… well, at least in society. When he didn’t speak, Edward continued.
“As I explained, Liberty had a riding accident. But perhaps this is not my story to tell, and she would be angry with me if I did.”
“She’s never going to tell me, Edward,” Toby said, refusing to beg the young man to continue, even though he wanted to hear what happened.
“Very well, but if you say you heard this from me I will call you a liar.”
“I won’t.”
“Liberty was riding hard, as she always did. This day more so, as she’d told me that riding in such a manner would not be tolerated when she reached London for her season. We think a bird flew up, but my sister does not remember. She fell and rolled down a hill.”
No one looking at Toby would know what he was thinking in that moment, and he was glad he’d learned to school his expression into one of cynical boredom.
“She broke her thigh and hit her head. Liberty was unconscious for days. When she woke she was different,” Edward said.
“Different?”
“Her eyes wouldn’t focus and she had to learn to walk again.
I helped her,” Edward said. “She was bedridden for months and suffered terrible headaches. Then one day, Father brought in this man. His name was Dr. Valerie. And he got her out of bed and moving again. He applied warm cloths to her leg and had Helen rub in ointments.”
And I didn’t know she was suffering. There was no going back, Toby reminded himself, tightening his arms around Florence. Only forward.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Toby stood and watched his old friend win the next two matches. Liberty could have died. That thought kept circling inside his head.
“She’s playing Mr. Hasslebach, in the last match,” Edward said. “My guess is he’s not happy about that.”
“That man has whiskers covering his mouth,” Florence whispered to Toby.
“It would be hard to eat don’t you think?” She agreed with a nod.
“He’s scared he’s going to lose.” Edward held out the second bag of roasted chestnuts for Florence.
He liked this young man. Liked his forthright nature and dry sense of humor, which was probably because that was exactly how Liberty had been as a young girl. He also liked how easy he was with Florence.
Toby, standing there holding a small girl, with a dog sitting on his foot, chatting to Edward, would shock the people of society if they saw him at that moment.
The thought didn’t worry him at all. In fact, he found he liked it very much.