Chapter 3
“It’s alright. Hush now, my darling. Hush.”
Amelia’s voice was little more than a whisper as she rocked Henry against her chest, the familiar motion providing comfort not only to her son but to a degree to her as well.
The nursery had become her sanctuary over the past few days—a refuge from the endless parade of mourners, from the oppressive silence that hung over Redmond Park like a shroud.
Three days had passed since they had laid Edward to rest. Three days of condolences she did not want to hear, of tears she could not shed, of a loss that felt more like liberation than sorrow… which, of course, led to guilt that weighed heavily on her.
Henry’s small fist clutched at the black silk of her mourning gown, his eyelids growing heavy as she hummed softly. One year old, and already he had lost the father he would never truly know. The thought twisted something sharp and painful beneath her ribs.
What would she tell him when he was old enough to ask?
That his father had been a good man? It would not be entirely untrue.
Edward had been dutiful, responsible, and proper in all things.
He had simply never been warm. And it was true that there was a part of her that feared what his coldness would have done to their son.
The door to the nursery creaked open, and Amelia’s gaze snapped toward the sound. Immediately, she looked down again. Not that it was fast enough to prevent the image from being etched into her mind.
The image of Lord Tobias Grant in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space in a manner that Edward never had.
His chestnut hair was disheveled, as though he had been running his hands through it repeatedly, and his cravat hung loose about his throat.
He looked nothing like his overly polished brother.
He looked rather… lost.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said quietly, his grey eyes finding hers across the dim room. “I hope I did not disturb you. I… I thought perhaps we might speak?”
Amelia’s pulse quickened at this, though she was not certain whether it was with fear or anticipation.
Of course, she knew that her brother-in-law would inherit the estate.
She knew not what it would mean for her.
She glanced down at Henry, whose breathing had finally settled into the steady rhythm of sleep, before nodding slowly.
“Of course, my lord.” She rose carefully, mindful not to wake the child, and carried him to his cot. She lingered as she laid him down, her hand resting on his chest for a few seconds longer than necessary. When she finally turned to face Tobias, she took a deep breath.
“He is a beautiful child,” Tobias said, his voice rough with something that might have been emotion. “Edward would have been… that is, I am sure he was…”
He trailed off, and Amelia felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for this man who had inherited not only a title but the burden of his cold brother’s unfinished life.
“Thank you,” she replied softly. “He is my greatest joy.”
She forced herself to smile coolly after eliciting this bit of vulnerability, her eyes searching his.
“You wished to speak with me?”
Tobias cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. After long minutes, he broke the suffocating silence.
“Yes. I have… I have given considerable thought to your situation, Lady Amelia. To yours and young Henry’s.”
The word did not sit well with her. She had gone from wife to a... situation. She looked down at the carpet once more. A burden for the new viscount, one more thing he had to manage after his brother’s death.
“I see,” she said carefully, though she did not see at all. “And what conclusions have you reached, my lord?”
He moved closer to her, his gaze flickering between her and the sleeping child.
“I have decided,” he began again, his tone overly formal, “that you and Henry shall remain here at Redmond Park. Under my protection. Until such time as you remarry, of course. I shall ensure your security, handle all financial matters, and when your mourning period has concluded, I shall assist you in finding a suitable husband. A man who can provide you with the stability and comfort you deserve.”
Amelia felt her hands begin to tremble, and she clasped them tightly before her to still the motion. Irritation coursed through her at every word he said, and she took deep, slow breaths in a futile attempt to calm herself.
“I beg your pardon?”
Her voice was sharper than intended, and she watched Tobias’s brow furrow in evident confusion.
“I am merely offering you my protection,” he said, and she could hear genuine bewilderment in his tone. “Surely you must see that it is the most practical arrangement? You cannot remain here alone, unchaperoned, without a man’s guidance. Society would—”
“Oh, of course. When it comes to me, the thoughts of society matter. It is meant to control my life, my entire future… it hands me to you like a burden you cannot wait to hand off to the first available suitor.”
Tobias blinked furiously, then shook his head. “That is not what I meant. I am simply trying to—”
“To manage me?” She took a step forward, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper so as not to wake Henry. “To control my future as though I were property to be disposed of at your convenience? To find me a husband as though I were a broodmare in need of a new master?”
“Amelia—”
“Lady Amelia,” she corrected sharply. The informality with which he addressed her felt suddenly too presumptuous. “You forget yourself, my lord.”
He had the grace to look abashed, at least. He made a point of avoiding her gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.
“I forget nothing. I am acutely aware that you are my responsibility now. My brother’s widow. My nephew’s mother. The law places you under my guardianship, whether either of us wishes it or not.”
“Your responsibility,” she repeated, and the words tasted bitter upon her tongue. “How very charitable of you, Lord Redmond. And tell me, how long until you find me a next husband to dispose me to?”
“I do not mean to…”
She shook her head and laughed, though the sound was void of any humour. “I suppose I should apologize for Henry. It will not be easy, will it, to find an esteemed match who will be willing to take on a wife and another man’s child. But you seem to be quite eager to take on the challenge.”
Tobias shook his head in response to the unjust attack. “Please, my lady,” he said. “It was not my intention to upset you. I just…”
“You what, Lord Tobias?”
The air between them changed, their eyes meeting. Tobias sighed and broke eye contact first.
“I did not mean to offend,” he said gently, “I was merely…”
“I know,” Amelia said at last, her temper subsiding.
For so long, she had been silent that the rage she felt for her father and late husband exploded at him: Tobias, the nearest person to her.
“I know only that you are offering me exactly what your brother did: security in exchange for obedience. But a cage with gilded bars is still a cage, my lord.”
“It is not the same thing at all.”
“Is it not?” She moved toward him now, propelled by an anger that had been building for years.
“You speak of finding me a suitable husband, as though my desires are of no consequence. As though I am a problem to be solved rather than a person with thoughts and feelings of her own. How is that any different from what Edward did? He chose me because I was biddable. Because I would not cause trouble or demand too much. And now you propose to do the very same thing—select some appropriate gentleman who will take me off your hands and allow you to return to your carefree existence without the burden of a tiresome widow to manage.”
“That is utterly unfair.”
His voice had dropped to a near growl, and his eyes looked… almost hurt. As though he did not want to hear her words.
“Is it?” she challenged. “Then tell me, my lord—did you even consider asking what I might want? Whether I even desire to remarry at all? Or did you simply assume, as men always do, that a woman’s highest ambition must be to secure herself another husband?”
“What else would you have me do?” He spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “Kick you out of here? For heaven’s sake, Lady Amelia, I am trying to do what is right!”
“For whom?” The question was asked more quietly now, but no less fierce. “For me? For Henry? Or for your own conscience, so that you might feel you have discharged your duty and can return to your dissolute pleasures without guilt?”
His expression changed from frustration to utter misery, and he found her eyes again.
“You truly believe that is all this is to me?” he asked quietly. “No more than an obligation?”
Amelia felt her anger waver, felt the careful walls she had constructed begin to crack. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that his concern was genuine, that he saw her as something more than a burden inherited along with his brother’s title.
But she had learned the danger of such trust.
“What else should I believe?” she asked, and hated the way her voice trembled. “You speak of duty and responsibility, of finding me a husband and ensuring my security. You offer me exactly what every man has offered me—protection in exchange for my autonomy.”
Tobias’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a moment, she thought he might argue further. Instead, he drew in a long breath and released it slowly.
“I understand,” he said carefully, “that you have no reason to trust me. That my brother’s treatment of you has left you… wary. But I am not Edward, Amelia. I do not wish to control you or diminish you. I simply wish to ensure that you and Henry are cared for. Is that truly so objectionable?”
The gentleness in his tone was almost her undoing. She turned away, moving to the window where moonlight spilled across the nursery floor in silver pools.
“You do not understand,” she said quietly.
“For two years, I was told what to think, what to feel, what to do. Every aspect of my life was managed and controlled. And I bore it because I had no choice, because that was what marriage required of me. But Edward is gone now. And I had thought—foolishly, perhaps—that I might finally be free to make my own decisions. To be more than simply someone’s wife, someone’s responsibility. ”
She heard him move closer, felt the warmth of his presence at her back.
“You deserve that freedom,” he said softly. “You deserve far more than you have been given. But the world we live in does not grant such liberties to women in your position. Whether we like it or not, you need protection. And I… I am all you have.”
The words should have angered her. Should have rekindled the fury that had burned so fiercely moments before. Instead, they filled her with a weariness so profound she could scarcely remain standing.
She thought of Henry, sleeping peacefully in his cot. Of the life she wanted to give him—one free from the coldness that had defined her marriage. And she knew, with devastating clarity, that her pride was a luxury she could not afford.
“Very well,” she said, the words tasting like ash. “I accept your… protection. Not because I desire it, you understand. Not because I believe I need a man’s guardianship to survive. But because my son deserves stability. Because Henry’s welfare must take precedence over my own wishes.”
She turned to face him then, forcing herself to meet his gaze with all the dignity she could muster.
“But I will not be managed, Lord Tobias. I will not be treated as though my thoughts and feelings are of no consequence. And I will not spend the remainder of my life dependent upon your charity. When the time is right, I shall find my own way forward. Is that perfectly clear?”
She watched something flicker in his grey eyes—respect, perhaps, or admiration. He inclined his head in a gesture that was almost a bow.
“Perfectly clear, my lady.”
Silence settled between them, then Tobias bowed his head.
“I should let you rest,” he said, moving toward the door. But he paused at the threshold, his hand upon the frame, and turned back to look at her. In the dim light, his features seemed softer somehow, less guarded.
“I meant what I said, Amelia,” he said quietly, and she noticed he had dropped the formality once more. “I will take care of you both. Not because I must, but because I…”
He trailed off, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to finish the thought.
“Because you deserve it,” he said finally. “You and Henry. You deserve to be cared for. To be protected. And I swear to you, upon my honour, that I shall do everything in my power to ensure your happiness.”
Before she could respond, before she could parse the strange intensity in his voice, he was gone—the door closing softly behind him and leaving her alone with the sleeping child and the uncomfortable reminder that Lord Tobias Grant was certainly not his brother.