Chapter 28
“You look like a man about to watch his own execution.”
Tobias glanced up from the whisky glass he’d been contemplating for the better part of an hour. Daniel Harcourt stood in the doorway of White’s back room, one shoulder propped against the frame with that insufferable air of casual observation that had characterised their friendship since Eton.
“That would imply there’s something worth executing me for,” Tobias muttered, returning his attention to the amber liquid. The lamplight caught in it, fracturing into a dozen miniature suns that held infinitely more warmth than he currently possessed.
“Oh, I can think of several things.” Daniel invited himself in, closing the door against the raucous laughter drifting from the main rooms. He settled into the opposing chair with the ease of long familiarity, studying Tobias with those shrewd eyes that had always seen far too much.
“Self-flagellation. Deliberate martyrdom. Spectacular idiocy. Should I continue?”
“By all means. Your opinion has always been the cornerstone of my decision-making.”
“Which is precisely why you’re currently destroying yourself over a woman you won’t allow yourself to have.”
The words struck like a fist to the sternum. Tobias’s fingers tightened on the glass---the only outward sign of the internal havoc Daniel’s observation had wrought.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Don’t you?” Daniel leant forward, elbows on knees.
“You’ve been pacing this room for three hours.
Three hours, Tobias. I watched you through the window like some sort of caged beast, wearing a path in the carpet that the club steward will certainly send you an invoice for.
So either you’ve developed a sudden passion for exercise, or something is tearing you apart. ”
“Perhaps I simply enjoy pacing.”
“And perhaps I enjoy listening to Lady Carstair’s musical assaults on good taste, but we both know that’s a lie.” Daniel’s expression softened fractionally. “She’s marrying Ashbourne. Tonight they’ll announce it.”
Not a question. Of course, Daniel would know---he always knew everything worth knowing about London’s social machinery. The information still landed like a blade between Tobias’s ribs.
“Then I wish her well.”
“Liar.”
Tobias surged to his feet, the movement sharp enough to send his chair scraping backwards.
He crossed to the window overlooking St. James’s Street, where carriages rattled past in the gathering dusk, carrying people to parties and suppers and all the glittering inanity that comprised polite society.
Somewhere in this sprawling city, Amelia was preparing for the ball.
Donning whatever gown she’d chosen. Pinning up that golden-brown hair he’d imagined running his fingers through more times than honour allowed.
Steeling herself to accept a proposal from a man who could offer her everything Tobias could not.
Respectability. Security. A life free from scandal.
Everything she deserved.
Everything he would destroy if he were selfish enough to claim her.
“You’re just going to let her?” Daniel’s voice held genuine disbelief.
“After everything? After months of playing the devoted guardian, after nearly coming to blows over society’s whispers, after looking at her like she’s the answer to every prayer you’ve been too afraid to voice---you’re simply going to stand aside whilst some polished fool claims her hand? ”
“It’s what’s right.”
The words tasted like ash on his tongue.
Daniel laughed---a sharp, bitter sound devoid of humour.
“Right? That’s your justification? Tobias, you’ve spent your entire adult life thumbing your nose at what’s ‘right.’ You’ve gambled fortunes, seduced half of London’s widows, and cultivated a reputation that makes mothers lock up their daughters.
But now, when it actually matters, you’ve suddenly discovered morality? ”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Because she’s---” Tobias stopped, the words catching in his throat like broken glass. “Because she deserves better than me.”
“Better than the man who protected her when society turned vicious? Better than the man who helped her raise her son? Better than the man she’s clearly in love with?”
Tobias spun, every muscle coiled tight. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Speak the truth?” Daniel rose, crossing to him with deliberate slowness.
“I’ve watched you for years, Tobias. Watched you avoid anything resembling real feeling.
Watched you cultivate that charming rake persona like armour against genuine connection.
And now you’re telling me you feel nothing for this woman? ”
“I feel protective. Responsible. As any gentleman should toward his brother’s widow.”
“Protective men don’t look like they’re being flayed alive when discussing her future happiness.”
The observation struck too close. Tobias turned back to the window, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached.
“What would you have me do, Daniel? Court my brother’s widow? Create a scandal that would destroy her reputation and Henry’s prospects? I cannot do that to her.”
“Society already whispers about her. About both of you. At least if you married her, you’d give them something worth whispering about.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.” Daniel’s voice gentled fractionally. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re sacrificing both your happiness and hers on the altar of propriety. And since when have you given a damn about propriety?”
Since her. Since Amelia had walked into his life wrapped in widow’s weeds and quiet dignity, carrying grief and strength in equal measure.
Since he’d held Henry and felt something shift irrevocably in his chest. Since he’d realised that caring for them---truly caring---meant putting their welfare above his own selfish desires.
“She needs stability,” he said finally. “Someone society respects. Someone who can give her the life Edward couldn’t.”
“And you think Ashbourne is that man?”
“He’s everything I’m not. Respectable. Steady. A man whose reputation doesn’t precede him like a warning bell.”
“He’s also a pompous bore with the personality of tepid porridge.
” Daniel moved to stand beside him, their reflections ghosting in the window glass.
“I’ve known Ashbourne for years. He’s perfectly pleasant and utterly forgettable.
Is that truly what you want for her? A lifetime of pleasant forgettability? ”
“I want her to be happy.”
“Do you? Or do you want her to be safe? Because those aren’t the same thing, and you’re conflating them to justify your cowardice.”
The accusation struck home. Tobias’s hands curled into fists against the windowsill.
“You know nothing about it.”
“I know more than you think.” Daniel’s voice dropped, losing its edge.
“I was terrified when I fell in love with Isadora. Absolutely terrified. She deserved far better than a third son with more charm than prospects. I spent months convincing myself she’d be happier with someone else.
Someone who could give her everything I couldn’t. ”
Tobias glanced at him sharply. Daniel rarely spoke of his wife---a woman he’d married five years ago in a match that had shocked everyone who’d assumed he’d remain a bachelor indefinitely.
“What changed?”
“I realised I was making decisions for her. Deciding what she needed, what she deserved, without ever asking what she wanted.” Daniel’s expression softened with something dangerously close to tenderness.
“Turns out she wanted me. Flawed, imperfect, occasionally idiotic me. And every day since has been the greatest blessing of my life.”
The words hung in the air between them, weighted with significance. Tobias felt something crack in his chest---some carefully constructed wall he’d spent months building.
“It’s not the same,” he managed.
“Isn’t it? You love her. Don’t bother denying it---I can see it written across your face every time her name is mentioned. You love her, and she loves you, and the only thing standing between you is your own stubborn martyrdom.”
“She was Edward’s wife.”
“Edward is dead.” The words emerged blunt but not unkind.
“He’s been dead for months, Tobias. And whilst I won’t speak ill of him, we both know his marriage to Lady Amelia was one of duty, not affection.
You’re not betraying him by caring for her.
If anything, you’re giving her what he never could. ”
“Society won’t see it that way.”
“Society,” Daniel said with particular emphasis, “can go hang. Since when do you care what a collection of hypocrites and gossips think? The same people who whisper about Lady Amelia would turn around and praise Ashbourne for securing such a lovely bride, despite the fact that his first wife died in suspicious circumstances that no one ever bothered investigating properly.”
Tobias’s head snapped up. “What?”
“You didn’t know?” Daniel’s brows lifted.
“Lady Ashbourne’s death was ruled accidental, but there were rumours.
Questions about bruises. Questions the family’s solicitors made very certain never reached official inquiry.
” He paused deliberately. “Is that truly the man you want raising Henry? The man you want touching Amelia?”
The thought ignited something feral in Tobias’s chest---a possessive rage that had no place in rational discussion. The image of Ashbourne’s hands on her, of Henry calling another man father, of Amelia trapped in another loveless marriage---
“Stop.”
“Why? Because the truth makes you uncomfortable?” Daniel pressed forward, relentless.
“You’ve spent months protecting her, nearly came to blows over gossip, defended her against every whisper and slight.
And now you’ll stand by whilst some polished fool---a potentially dangerous polished fool---claims her hand?
Come now, Tobias. You don’t want what’s right. You want her.”