Chapter Nineteen
“Will you never learn?”
“What? I’m just fencing with him,” Tobias said swishing his blade back and forth. “I’m quite good at it, you know.”
His friends had lured him out of the townhouse today to exercise, telling him he would grow lazy if he did not. He’d agreed to come, but not about the lazy comment. He was busier than ever now Florence and Barnaby lived with him.
Life for Tobias was settling into a rhythm.
He was now comfortable in leaving Florence at home for a few hours at a time, and she was more comfortable around him.
They walked in the gardens daily with Barnaby, and he shared meals with her.
He’d also taught her to slide down the banister, which had produced a genuine laugh from his ward.
The dog had also infiltrated the Corbyn household. He’d caught Chadders out the window handing Barnaby a large bone yesterday.
Tobias had also thrown himself into investigating what was going on in Bidham, and why a few of the villagers were turning up in London…
well, two of them anyway. Edward had told him he’d seen Cecil Todd, and Liberty and Helen, Sydney, Helen’s brother, delivering barrels to that warehouse. He’d gone there to investigate.
“Jamie’s fitter than both of us, and we have yet to beat him,” Anthony said, drawing him from his thoughts.
“You have grown soft since your marriage to Evie,” Toby said, lunging to the left and right.
“The hard, unfeeling man you once were has gone, and in its place is this whining creature who talks about his feelings.” Jamie, who was stretching his muscles beside him for some reason, snorted. The man was always moving.
“You are hardly one to speak. Since Florence entered your life, I’ve seen a definite change in your rakish behavior,” Anthony said.
Which he couldn’t deny.
“Back to this Bidham business. You say that warehouse definitely had barrels in it, and little else?” Anthony asked.
Toby rolled with the change, as that was their way. They were always discussing two things at once, while annoying each other.
“Something didn’t feel right there,” Toby said.
“Tell us again exactly what happened when you went to the warehouse alone, without one of us for backup,” Jamie said.
Toby rolled his eyes. “I am quite capable of asking a few questions in daylight, alone,” he carried on before they spoke.
“I told them I’d come to inspect the shipment of goods I ordered.
” He’d gone along with Liberty’s theme of pretending to be there for another purpose.
Not that she should have been there at all, infernal woman.
“The man who opened the door told me they were not holding anything for Lord Corbyn. I pulled out the piece of paper I’d had the forethought to write with the address for this warehouse on, and handed it to the man.”
“That was quite clever considering it was you who thought of it,” Anthony said crossing his legs at the ankles, relaxed, which was something he’d once rarely been.
“Very amusing. I looked in the doorway and saw all the barrels, and then the man returned so I stepped back outside.”
“How many men in there?” Jamie asked.
“Five.”
“No one you recognized from Bidham or society?” Anthony asked.
“No.”
“We probably need to go back after dark and have a good look around,” Jamie said.
“Agreed,” Toby said.
“Are you fighting Corbyn, Stafford?”
The man who had asked that question dropped down beside Anthony.
“We are, Raine. Do you wish to take on the loser?” Toby asked.
“God no. I just had a match with my youngest brother.” The man looked around him. “He’s gone, thankfully, and I can now acknowledge the ache in my thighs and arm, but that is after taking him apart. Old age, you know, it comes to all of us.”
The Earl of Raine had three brothers, all younger, and Toby had never known a single one of them to take a backward step when a forward one was on offer.
“Indeed, well you sit those aging bones here beside me, Raine, and we will take a wager on the match,” Anthony said.
Soon bets were placed by more than the two lords seated in the front row.
“My aunts paid me a call,” Anthony said when Toby handed him his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.
“How lovely for you,” Toby said.
“They are quite convinced one of those three women is to be your future wife, Tobias, especially given that you have Florence in your household now. I tend to agree, in fact—”
“One more word and I will skewer you,” Toby snarled. He then stomped away to where Jamie was still lunging. “For pity’s sake, man, you look like a… actually, I have no words for what you look like.”
Jamie looked from Anthony and back to Toby. “What did he say to annoy you?”
“Nothing,” Toby snapped. “Stop lunging and start fencing.”
“En garde then, my surly friend,” Jamie said.
Toby cleared his head and focused. His friend liked to attack. He fenced like he did most things, with skill and speed.
“Excellent parry, Corbyn!” someone called out as he took offensive action to deflect Jamie’s attack.
“You have improved,” Jamie said, barely out of breath.
“Or you’re slowing down,” Toby wheezed, lunging.
“Nice riposte!” Anthony called.
They turned, they lunged, and they retreated, and soon Toby’s shirt was sticking to him and he’d forgotten all about the irritating Liberty Talbot… damn, she was back. Jamie took advantage of his mind wandering and struck.
“You were doing so well for a while there,” Anthony said, wandering over while Toby bent at the waist sucking in air. “I almost believed you’d beat him.”
“He lost focus,” Jamie said now swinging his blade from side to side as if he’d not just fought Toby. “I saw it and struck. I wonder what he was thinking about?”
“I detest you,” Toby said when he could breathe again. His friend smiled.
“Well done, Lord Corbyn.”
Toby took his time turning to face the man at his back. Lord Michael was with his two friends this time. Mr. Patterson and Lord Sybil. Both were as oily and mean spirited as him, for all they portrayed a different facade to society.
“I had my money on Stafford of course. He was the sure bet.” Lord Michael said.
“Would you care to have a match, Michael?” Anthony said, his eyes narrowed and angry.
Anyone from their time in Blackwood Hall created that reaction in the three friends.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the time today. I just wanted to congratulate you, Stafford, and commiserations, Corbyn.” The smile was genuine, but Toby didn’t return it.
Perhaps Michael was not as villainous as some involved, but he was complicit because he’d known and done nothing to stop the beatings and torture. Therefore, he would always be the enemy as far as Toby was concerned.
“Yes, well, it is not everyone who can do something as physical as fencing, Michael,” Jamie said.
“Indeed, there is a certain set of skills required, and not everyone can master them,” Anthony added.
Michael’s eyes narrowed at the deliberate insults.
“Indeed, I believe gambling is more your thing?” Toby added.
“And chess,” Anthony said. “Not as stressful on the heart.”
It was rare they came out and deliberately annoyed someone from their time at Blackwood, but that did not mean they hadn’t sought revenge. In fact, they had. Calculated and deliberate, they had gone after those who had harmed them in subtle ways that would never lead back to the three of them.
“I can fence quite admirably,” Michael protested, his pleasant expression slipping slightly. “I just do not have the time to do so right now.”
“Of course you don’t.” Toby sounded smug. “Don’t let us hold you up.”
“Good day,” Lord Michael said with a stiff bow.
“Rat-faced bastard,” Toby muttered after the man had left.
“You know, we’ve never really looked into his affairs. The man appears to keep his nose clean, and I’ve not heard his name linked to any business dealings. Perhaps it’s time we dug deeper?” Anthony said.
“Agreed,” both Jamie and Toby added.
Jamie wandered off to do more stretches and Anthony to speak with someone else, and Toby moved to watch two more fencers do battle. He stood behind a group of men he wasn’t well acquainted with but they were on nodding terms.
“I’ll court her because she’d come with a title and wealth, but there are others I’d prefer,” one was saying.
“Oh indeed. Miss Little is exquisite, and it won’t be a hardship to take her to bed, but she’s not going to come with as much money as others.”
“Close your eyes when doing the deed, Bilcoe.”
This caused raucous laughter among the three men.
Toby didn’t think he’d ever been like that…
hoped he and his friends had never discussed a woman as if she were a commodity to acquire.
Yet, he knew that was the way of things.
A woman in society had one role. To marry and marry well.
But he would not have that expectation for Florence, Toby vowed.
He would see her happy in whatever choice she made.
There would be no marriage to a man just because it was expected of her.
“Not that I’ve seen them, you understand, but I believe she has nice breasts. It’s the hair that worries me,” one of the men said.
“Indeed. It suggests a fiery temperament even if there has been no evidence of one.”
“Still, a duke’s daughter is not to be sneezed at, even if she is a little long in the tooth.”
Toby pushed upright off the wall, as he went through all the duke’s daughters currently in London. There were only two. One who fitted the hair comment.
“I saw her limping once. I wonder if there is an issue with her limbs.”
“She squints too.”
“Late to society and still unwed. You have to wonder why?”
“If the hair is a problem, you could just make her wear her bonnets all the time, even in the bedroom.”
That anyone would not love Liberty’s hair enraged Toby. It further enraged him they spoke of her limping as if it was a fault. The squinting too, all of which had come about due to her accident Edward had said.
“I shall have to give it some thought. The money and title would be welcome, but I’m unsure I could spend the rest of my life with her.”
“You’ll have a mistress, so once you have an heir, you need never lay with her again.”
The rage was swift and fierce and robbed Toby of his sanity.
He stayed where he was behind them, attempting to calm down.
It didn’t work, which was something else that seemed to have changed inside him recently.
His emotions flared out of control with ease, especially if there was a threat or insult to someone he cared about.
“To stand there and openly discuss a woman so anyone can overhear is beyond contempt,” Toby snapped. The words had the immediate effect of quieting every other noise around them. All eyes turned to him.
“L-Lord Corbyn!” The color drained out of the face of one of the men. “I was just—”
“You were speaking about Lady Liberty, weren’t you?” No one answered him. “Weren’t you?” Toby thundered.
“Problem?” Jamie appeared.
“I-we did not mean—”
“I heard every word,” Toby growled advancing.
Anthony stepped into his path.
“Were I you, Lockwood, I would run, because that particular look in my friend’s eyes does not bode well for anyone.”
“I am not finished,” Toby snapped trying to step around Anthony, but as Jamie was suddenly there he couldn’t. “Move.”
“We meant no insult to Lady Liberty,” Lockwood called.
“Every word you spoke was an insult!” Toby roared as the three men fled. “Look in the mirror! None of you are a catch any woman would willingly want!”
“Stuff him into his jacket, and let’s go,” Anthony said.
Minutes later, Toby found himself on the street, rage still gripping his body. He searched for the three men who had insulted Liberty and couldn’t find them.
“I wanted to punch them,” he muttered.
“They are silly young men, but harmless,” Anthony said.
“They were rude and insulting, and not just to Liberty. It is uncalled for.”
“As we have been before,” Jamie said.
“We were never insulting,” Toby gritted out. “Women have it hard enough. They should not be subjected to such behavior.”
He felt his friends’ eyes on him, and looked the other way.
“So, I think we can cross two names off that list,” Anthony said. “She will be excellent with Florence as will her younger brother.”
“What are you talking about?” he snapped.
Anthony looked at him with a raised brow.
“I will not be marrying her,” Toby said, but the words held little strength, and he told himself that was because he’d just had a rigorous fencing match, even if it was a lie.