Chapter 2 #2
With a half shrug, Nigel extinguished his cheroot on the railing’s rough stone. Taking the toothpick, he slipped it between his teeth. “It’s not a habit, Toby. Occasional smoke is all.”
Tobias sighed, his own toothpick bobbing.
His black hair had gone completely gray two years ago, but it was as thick as ever, adding a striking elegance to his looks.
“Toby, is it? So, we’re there today.” Searching his coat pocket this time, he located his flask.
His wife, Hildy, had given it to him on their first anniversary, and he carried it everywhere.
Nigel glanced at the dented silver etched with the initial S surrounded by a circle of hearts, thinking it spoke perfectly of his parents’ marriage.
“What happened? And may I remind you to never, ever call your mother Hildy again. The shawl you gave her did make up for it, but we don’t want a repeat of the tears. ”
Properly chastised, Nigel took the metal canister and lifted it to his lips.
Among other ventures, his family produced the finest whisky outside Scotland, and it flowed down his throat in a soothing flood.
He wanted to say nothing had happened… but his father knew him better than any person on earth.
Better some days than he knew himself. “Down by the docks today, I ran into Coop Andrews, a lad from the workhouse.”
“Ah,” Tobias said. Nothing more. Not a push. Just an offer to listen, as always.
Nigel scrubbed his fist over his lips, hoping to take away the sting that was deep, deep in his heart.
“He looked ten years older than me, maybe more. Life lived on the hard road. I was terrified to tell him, when he asked, that I was purchasing a terrace in Belgravia. One that my father designed. That I managed the most successful gaming den in London. Leaving me able to buy a bigger manse than I know what to do with. And another friend from those days, well, they found him washed up on the riverbank last month.” He took another sip, the alcohol blending nicely with the wine he’d consumed at dinner.
“That could have been me if not for you. Either of those scenarios if I’d made it this long at all. ”
Tobias held his hand out, took the flask, and drank deeply.
Nigel knew his family worried about the difficulty he had escaping his past. He’d grown up with love, siblings, animals, wealth.
A fine education. Travel. However, the eleven years before that were burned into his skin like the memories had been branded.
Those dismal days were a part of him. Dinners like these, surrounded by happiness and fine china and laughter, made him feel like a stray mutt tossed in for charitable measure.
By God, he didn’t know his birthday or even his real name.
Nigel had sounded good to a boy shivering on a damp orphanage mattress in the middle of winter.
Tobias leveled his shoulders, preparing for battle.
“Are we going to have this argument again? My family is comprised completely of circumstance and fate, Son. Don’t think the slice of blue blood from a viscount, who tossed aside a Romani boy he sired, brings me any higher than you.
Because it doesn’t. And your mother’s father, a lofty earl, was a nightmare in every way.
He left her with nothing but dismal memories. ”
“I don’t think it’s in my future to have what you have with her. I seem to possess a gift for brief associations. Like mist, emotion that evaporates quickly and leaves no trace.”
Tobias tapped the flask against the balustrade.
“I wanted Hildy more than I wanted grief or guilt or any of the emotions that would have kept me from taking her. From letting her take me. Because I didn’t belong in a place that she didn’t want to belong meant nothing compared to what we gained.
If you find someone, don’t let them slip away because of your exclusion from bloody Debrett’s .
” Tobias laughed, a cunning sound that told Nigel his father thought he knew something that no one else did.
“Or age. Don’t let that hold you up, either. ”
“ Christ , can’t this family leave matchmaking behind for one second?”
Tobias turned to him, stunned. “I’m no bloody matchmaker.
That’s your mother.” He extended the flask, giving Nigel the final draught.
“The girl gazes at you like Pippa gazed at Xander back in the day. Frightening, the resemblance and the determination. The Macauley grays staring back at you. And you see how that gambit turned out. Wrapped around Pippa’s finger, Xander is. Still .”
“They’re not the only ones. You and mother are…” Nigel gestured, not willing to admit what his parents were.
As in love as any couple he’d ever seen, that’s what .
Which was part of his problem, the ideal examples Nigel was up against.
Tobias chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick.
“You could do worse, much worse. Arabella is lovely and spirited. Intelligent. A daredevil since she was in leading strings. You’d have to deal with her hellion of a father as yours by marriage, but you already hold him there, in your heart. Thankfully, her mother is wonderful.”
Nigel squinted into the narrow mouth of the flask. “She stopped by the Devil’s Lair last week. In need of rescue.”
Tobias stilled, his exhalation piercing the night. Nigel was thrilled to leave his father speechless for once. “Well, well,” he finally murmured. “Checkmate.”
Nigel recapped the canister and passed it back to his father.
“It wasn’t like that. Her companion, that giddy chit with the flaming red hair who talks nonstop, ran off with Gadsby.
Arabella was merely giving them enough time to make it to Gretna before alerting anyone.
She needed somewhere to hold for the evening, then an escort home. ”
Tobias snorted, unconvinced. “And she came to you, did she?”
“Well, yes, but…”
Tobias hummed a response that only served to vex Nigel.
“Her brothers were otherwise engaged, and she couldn’t very well return home without a chaperone. We snuck into the domestics’ entrance—you know that lock isn’t worth shite—and that was that. I didn’t lay so much as a finger on the girl.”
His father chewed on his toothpick to keep from laughing. Nigel recognized this trick.
“I’ll repeat, it isn’t like that.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Tobias agreed, staring at the sky rather than meeting his son’s gaze.
“She smiles all the time, Papa, the most unburdened woman in England. Who could deal with that upon waking every day? A ray of sunshine lighting up the room. And you said not to think of it, but I am ten years older.”
“Eleven,” Tobais murmured, his breath fogging the air.
Nigel knocked the toe of his boot against the balustrade, scuffing the pristinely polished leather. “Exactly!”
“You’ve made your own choices, and I let you make them.
Even if they ended up being mistakes, I let you.
Because that’s what parents do. We make mistakes right along with our children.
Someday, you’ll see how hard it is.” He bumped Nigel’s shoulder with his.
“Out of all the enterprises we have, the distilleries, steam engine production, shipping, architecture, you chose the gaming piece of it. Since you were a boy, you’ve loved the Devil’s Lair.
Fascinated would be the better word. After university, it was your decision to assume management, and you know what?
You’ve tripled profits without ruining anyone in the process.
We haven’t been blamed for an aristo losing his inheritance in, oh, going on seven years.
And it was your idea to start purchasing cork in Tossa de Mar, which saves us thousands of pounds each year with whisky production.
You earned that new home of yours, Son. Don’t talk yourself out of your victories. Or the things you deserve.”
Nigel tunneled his hand through his hair and watched a stray moonbeam dance across his arm. “What does this have to do with her ?”
“Macauley’s little girl isn’t a little girl anymore, Nigel.
If she sees something in you, I suppose I’m asking you to trust her judgment.
Which I consider incredibly astute myself.
What could it hurt to open your mind to the thought of her?
” He laughed and finally caught his son’s gaze, and a searing pulse of love rippled through Nigel.
“Maybe some of her happiness will rub off on you. Hildy’s did on me.
I was almost as bad-tempered as you when I met her. ”
He paused just long enough to make it seem as if he hadn’t thought of this himself. “I’ll consider it.” And he would.
Because he’d wanted to kiss her in the gallery last week, his little secret.
Tobias grinned, his toothpick dipping. “Son, you would have made an excellent solicitor.”
“Thank you, but I’d rather take their money at the tables.” Then he glanced at the sky alongside the man who’d given him everything.