Chapter 28 #2
The words struck deep, shattering the last of his carefully maintained defences. Tobias closed his eyes, feeling the truth of it wash through him like a flood breaking through a dam.
He wanted her. Not just in the base, physical way he’d wanted countless women before.
He wanted her laughter and her strength.
Her sharp observations and gentle touches.
He wanted to wake beside her and fall asleep knowing she was safe.
He wanted to watch her raise Henry and perhaps if the fates were kind give him siblings.
He wanted everything.
And the wanting was going to destroy him.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both.” Tobias opened his eyes, meeting Daniel’s gaze with something raw and desperate.
“If I claim her, society will tear her apart. Every drawing room from here to Edinburgh will whisper about how quickly the widow moved on. How inappropriate the match is. How scandalous. Henry will grow up hearing it, knowing his mother chose passion over propriety. Is that what you’d have me do to them? ”
“I’d have you be honest. With yourself, if no one else.
” Daniel’s expression gentled. “Tobias, you’ve spent your life believing you’re not good enough.
That you’re the spare, the disappointment, the man who’ll never measure up to his brother’s perfection.
But Edward is gone, and you’re the one who stepped up.
You’re the one who protected them, who cared for them, who gave Henry the affection his father never could. ”
“That doesn’t make me worthy of her.”
“No. But loving her does. Choosing her does. Being brave enough to fight for what you want---to fight for her---that’s what makes you worthy.
” Daniel gripped his shoulder, the touch grounding.
“You love her. You’ve loved her for months.
So either do something about it, or live the rest of your life wondering why you didn’t. ”
Silence crashed down between them. Through the window, London continued its evening ritual lamplighters making their rounds, carriages departing for various entertainments, life moving forward with relentless indifference.
Somewhere, Amelia was preparing to accept another man’s proposal.
Somewhere, she was choosing safety over the dangerous, complicated thing that existed between them.
Somewhere, she was giving up.
Unless he stopped her.
The realisation settled over him like dawn breaking---inevitable and illuminating and absolutely terrifying.
He could let her go. Could stand aside and watch her marry Ashbourne and spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been.
Could be noble and honourable and utterly, devastatingly alone.
Or he could fight.
Could stride into that ballroom and claim what his heart had known for months. Could risk everything reputation, social standing, propriety, for the chance at something real.
Could choose her.
The decision crystallised with startling clarity. Tobias pushed away from the window, his movements suddenly decisive.
“What time does the ball begin?”
Daniel’s expression shifted from concern to something approaching triumph. “Half past eight. Why?”
Tobias was already moving toward the door, his earlier paralysis burned away by sudden, fierce purpose. “Because I’m going to stop her.”
“Finally!” Daniel followed, his grin sharp with satisfaction. “Though I should warn you---bursting into a ball to declare your undying devotion is rather melodramatic, even for you.”
“I don’t care.”
And he didn’t. Didn’t care about scandal or whispers or what society might think. Didn’t care that he’d spent months building walls against precisely this moment. Didn’t care about anything except getting to her before she made a decision that would bind her to the wrong man forever.
He loved her. Completely, irrevocably, with a depth that terrified and exhilarated him in equal measure.
And he was done pretending otherwise.
The cool evening air struck his face as they emerged onto St. James’s Street. Daniel was saying something about propriety and timing, but Tobias barely heard him. His mind raced ahead to the ballroom, to Amelia’s face when she saw him, to the words he’d spent months swallowing.
I love you.
Three words. So simple. So devastating.
I love you, and I’m not letting you go.
His carriage pulled up with gratifying speed. Tobias hauled himself inside, barely waiting for Daniel to follow before rapping sharply on the roof.
“Where are we going?” his friend asked, though the knowing gleam in his eye suggested he already knew.
“To commit social suicide,” Tobias said grimly. “Or secure my future happiness. Possibly both.”
“Excellent. I’ve always enjoyed a good scandal.” Daniel settled back against the squabs, looking thoroughly entertained. “Though I should mention---Ashbourne will be furious. The man’s pride is legendary.”
“Then he can challenge me. I’ll gladly meet him at dawn.”
“My, my. From martyrdom to murderous intent in less than ten minutes. Isadora will be delighted when I tell her.”
Tobias ignored him, staring out at London’s darkening streets. Somewhere in this sprawling city, Amelia was stepping into her carriage. Travelling to her own potential engagement. Steeling herself to accept a man she didn’t love.
Not if he could help it.
The journey seemed to take hours, though it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. Every street, every turn, every delay felt like torture. By the time they pulled up outside the Harcourt townhouse---the location of tonight’s ball---Tobias’s nerves were strung tighter than a violin’s strings.
Light blazed from every window. Music drifted into the night, punctuated by the sounds of laughter and conversation. The cream of London society gathered to witness what they believed would be a triumph of propriety.
They were about to be disappointed.
Tobias descended from the carriage, straightening his cuffs with hands that trembled fractionally. Daniel appeared beside him, expression unusually serious.
“Once you do this, there’s no going back. You understand that?”
“I know.”
“Society will talk. Possibly for years.”
“I don’t care.”
“And if she refuses you? If she’s already accepted Ashbourne?”
The possibility struck like a blade. She could do it—could think it worth it, could want to get away from him. The thought hurt more than he’d want to admit. Tobias shook his head.
“Then I will accept her decision… but I need her to know the truth. I need… to fight for her. For what I want. For once in my life...” He paused, feeling the weight of what he was about to do.
“I’ve spent my life running from anything that mattered.
From responsibility, from genuine feeling, from the risk of being found wanting. But not tonight. Tonight, I fight.”
Daniel’s expression gentled into something approaching respect. “Then let’s go claim your future, shall we?”
They mounted the steps together. The butler’s eyes widened fractionally at Tobias’s appearance---clearly not on the guest list---but Daniel’s presence smoothed over any potential objection. The man stepped aside, allowing them entry into the glittering chaos within.
The ballroom stretched before them in a riot of silk and candlelight.
Couples swirled across the floor in elegant patterns whilst others clustered in conversational groups, their laughter rising above the orchestra’s strains.
Tobias scanned the crowd with predatory focus, searching for golden-brown hair and clear blue eyes.
There.
His heart stopped.
She stood near the refreshment table, resplendent in pale blue silk that made her skin luminous.
Lord Ashbourne hovered at her elbow, his expression one of proprietary satisfaction that made Tobias’s blood boil.
As he watched, Ashbourne leant closer, murmuring something that made Amelia’s polite smile tighten fractionally.
She looked beautiful.
She looked miserable.
And she was his.
The certainty of it blazed through him like wildfire, burning away the last of his hesitation.
Tobias started forward, dimly aware of heads turning, of whispers beginning to ripple through the crowd.
He didn’t care. His entire focus had narrowed to the woman across the room---the woman he loved, the woman he was about to claim in front of half of London society.
He loved her. It was more than care, more than admiration. He loved her with a depth and breadth his soul could hardly hold.
And there was no way that he would let Ashbourne—or anyone—take her from him.
His reputation be damned.