Chapter Nine
Tobias strode towards the Blue Lounge with purpose, only to stop when his fingers curled around the door handle. A burst of laughter came from inside and, even though he had never heard her sound quite so happy, he knew it was coming from Mrs Wilmott.
Heat crept up his spine and he took a step backwards, dropping his hold.
When he thought about what he’d said and how he’d said it, he wanted to throw himself back into the Serpentine and sink beneath its cool depths.
As soon as the words about marriage began spilling from his mouth, he’d wanted to stop.
All those times when the words got stuck in his throat, and the one time he needed it to happen, it hadn’t.
What made the whole excruciating situation worse was that he was completely aware that there had not even been the merest of hints from Mrs Wilmott that she was interested in a proposal from him.
He’d only meant to warn Mrs Wilmott about his family’s meddlesome ways, and yet he could not fault her furious reaction.
He’d been insulting and rude and remembering it made his soul cringe with burning humiliation.
Every time they spoke, he was obnoxious in a way that he was not with anyone else.
That he’d managed to antagonise the one person to whom he seemed to be able to speak without his words getting stuck in his throat was even worse.
‘What are you doing?’
Tobias jumped. He had not heard Freddie approach. Silently cursing himself, he gestured to the door to the Blue Lounge as if that explained his strange behaviour. His words had disappeared on him once more, but even if they hadn’t, there was nothing he could say to explain away what he was doing.
‘Does that gesture mean you are staring at the door?’ asked Freddie, his eyes sparking with amusement. ‘It is a rather magnificent specimen. All that ornate carving and the extreme blueness of it. I can see exactly why you would want to take a moment to appreciate the very doorness of it.’
Tobias’ brothers teased one another relentlessly.
Tobias would never admit to them that sometimes, not all the time because it would probably become irritating, he would like to be part of it.
But not now. As he was currently feeling like the worst kind of coward and dunderhead, Freddie’s teasing remarks were not helping.
Laughter rang out once again from inside the room. ‘It rather does feel,’ said Freddie, ‘that they might be having more fun inside the room than we are right here, despite the splendour of the entrance. Shall we go in?’
Tobias narrowed his eyes, subjecting his brother to a scowl that had once made a grown man cry. Freddie smiled back innocently.
When the laughter sounded for a third time, Tobias strode forward once more.
This was his house, God damn it. He was not going to be cowed by one woman.
He would apologise to her for his implied insult and leave it at that.
If she didn’t accept it, then they were no better or worse off than they had been.
It was not as if he were trying to woo her, even if the thought of her curves sometimes kept him awake at night.
Or, how, when he had been sitting next to her on the terrace, he had liked the faint floral smell of her perfume and wanted to bury his nose in her skin and inhale deeply.
Neither of those things mattered. Of course, he would have to get her on her own to say anything to her.
He very much doubted the words would come naturally to him with any of his family in earshot.
Tense situations made it harder to get his sentences out, the words almost burning his throat in their refusal to come out.
Besides, if any of his brothers got a whiff of how much he had bungled his conversation with Mrs Wilmott, he would never hear the end of it.
He opened the door with enough force to make a noise.
As he strode in, the whole room fell silent, laughter petering out.
He had no time to regret not making a softer entrance because Lotte was running towards him, hands outstretched.
‘Tobis,’ she said, launching herself at him when she was still a few steps away.
Tobias snatched her into his arms, lifting her up so that she could throw her scrawny arms around his neck.
His niece never failed to be anything other than utterly thrilled at his arrival and he loved her fiercely for it.
He already loved her with everything that he had, but this joy, a joy that no one else ever expressed at his presence, only added to it.
‘Tobis,’ she said again, her legs tucking around his waist. ‘I got a new friend.’
‘Have you indeed?’
Lotte nodded solemnly. ‘She is called the same as you.’ He must have frowned because Lotte reached up and rubbed his forehead.
She told him she did not like it when the lines on his face appeared and always tried to smooth them out; it had to be done an alarming amount of times.
‘Grace,’ Lotte said solemnly. ‘My friend’s name is Grace. ’
Tobias’ heart did a strange somersault behind his ribs.
A strange reaction to finding out Mrs Wilmott’s first name; it was not as if he would be calling her by it.
Grace. The word seemed to fill his mind, which was ridiculous because he heard it many times a day.
It didn’t suit her. It didn’t suit him either.
No one seeing them floundering about in the water would call either of them graceful.
Mrs Wilmott moved more with purpose than with fluidity, except when he was leading her onto the dance floor and then she…
Tobias stopped himself. He was giving far too much consideration to one woman’s name.
‘We are playing,’ said Lotte. ‘Come and see.’ Then, as if remembering the manners they were trying to teach her, she added, ‘If you peas.’
He pressed his lips together to stop a grin. Lotte was a little behind with her speech, but she was making great strides. Tobias did not want her to be like him and took every opportunity to praise her when she spoke. He couldn’t bring himself to correct peas; it was too adorable.
Lotte started bouncing in his arms as he made his way towards Mrs Wilmott, obviously very taken with her new playmate.
Not ready to look at their guest yet, Tobias glanced around the room.
The scene that greeted him showed his family very much at home.
They were not treating Mrs Wilmott as a special guest; she was already past that in their eyes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Peter and Silas, Edward’s wards, had flung open the doors that led to the patio outside and were playing a game.
Edward was watching them, smiling softly, looking as relaxed as he ever got.
Freddie and Christopher joined him. The three wives were sitting on comfortable chairs not far away, Emily holding her sleeping daughter in her arms. None of them were paying particular attention to what he was doing, although he was sure that they all knew what he was about.
As he strode further into the room, he saw Mrs Wilmott.
She was sitting on the floor, her skirts spread out around her, toy soldiers scattered to her left.
His gaze caught hers and his heart started thudding erratically.
Surely he was too young to be having a heart seizure, but his body couldn’t be betraying him like this because it was anxious about talking to her.
It was true he was not used to having to apologise.
There was a certain reverence attached to his status, and people did not expect him to abase himself, not that he ever had any reason to do so.
He would prefer to be a more verbose man, or at least slightly more charming, but one couldn’t change one’s personality and he had learned to live with the way he was.
Being a duke allowed him a lenience he probably would not have received if he were a plain mister.
Even his family allowed for it. That would not do for Mrs Wilmott.
He had greatly offended her again and, for family relations, he needed to smooth that over.
‘Mrs Wilmott,’ he said, lowering Lotte to the floor. ‘I trust you are well this afternoon.’
She nodded stiffly. ‘I thank you, Your Grace. I hope the same can be said for you.’
Before he could answer, Lotte said, ‘Grace and Grace.’ Seeming to find this very funny, she picked up two of the toy soldiers and began bouncing them towards Dolly, who was resting on an armchair, presumably in peril.
It appeared he and Mrs Wilmott were forgotten.
Feeling foolish for towering over her, but not willing to face the indignity of sitting on the floor, Tobias sank to his haunches, regretting the uncomfortable position almost immediately.
‘Before you launch into an apology,’ said Mrs Wilmott, her gaze tilted away from him and firmly fixed on Lotte, ‘I realise that I overreacted to your words last night. It came to me after you had left the ball that you were not implying that I was after a proposal from you, only that you were trying to spare me from embarrassment.’
That hadn’t exactly been his intention, but it appeared Mrs Wilmott hadn’t stopped talking.
‘I can quite see what you mean about matchmaking.’ She nodded to his family, none of whom were looking in their direction, in a way that seemed suspiciously deliberate.
‘I must say that I am touched that they would like me to be part of the family. But—’ her eyes swung back to him and his heart did that strange, thud, thud again ‘—I stand by what I said at the ball. I am not interested in acquiring another husband, so you are safe from my attentions.’
Tobias picked up one of the toy soldiers, rubbing his thumb over the familiar toy.
‘It is kind of you to excuse my behaviour, but you are incorrect about my intentions. I was being arrogant.’ Was it wrong to enjoy her open-mouthed gaping at him?
Probably. ‘While my sparkling conversation is no doubt a draw to most women, some, and you will not believe this, do not care whether I can speak to them or not. In fact, I am sure you would be in agreement with them that it is better for all when I do not.’
She laughed and pleasure washed through him at the sound. It was rare for him to make a joke at his own expense. He could not remember ever having done so.
‘You would not believe the lengths that some women will go to in order to become a duchess. I have been subjected to more plots than even the Theatre Royal has seen. I will not insult your intelligence by recounting any of them, but I am afraid the experience has left me… jaded. The comment I made during the ball was intended to save us both from future embarrassment. However, it would appear that I made it worse.’
Her blue eyes studied him. ‘I think you are being too harsh on yourself,’ she said eventually. ‘You have nicely rounded ears. Perhaps the women are drawn to those and not your title or the rumours of your vast wealth.’
He couldn’t have stopped the shocked bark of laughter that came out of him, even if he had been prepared for it. Her answering grin was swift, before it fell away. ‘Charlotte tells me these were once yours.’ She gestured to the toys lying scattered around them.
‘Yes,’ he said, looking down at the one in the palm of his hand. ‘This one was my favourite. I believe I was taken with the elaborate moustache.’
He held it out to her so that she could see the finely detailed facial hair painted on to the wooden toy.
It was faded now, but he could remember fighting with Sebastian over who got to play with the field marshal, as they had called him.
Grace leaned closer to him and he got a faint whiff of lavender.
He had to hold himself still so as not to move closer and inhale more deeply, like he had wanted to last night.
‘Oh yes, he is grand.’ Her breath whispered over his fingers and a shiver rushed up the length of his arm. ‘I think you should grow one just like it.’
‘You do?’ Tobias glanced at the face he had known so well as a child. It had offered him comfort when no one else provided it for him, but there was no denying that the painted face was rather hideous.
‘Certainly,’ said Grace. ‘It would help with your problem no end.’
‘My problem?’
She nodded solemnly. ‘Not a single woman would chase you anywhere if you looked like that.’
And for the second time, his laughter took him by surprise.