Chapter 2 #2
The rhythm of this settles me more than any conversation ever could. It is true, reliable, and asks nothing of me.
Weatherby closed the case and straightened. He offered the gun with a slight incline of his head. Tobias took it and tested the weight, letting it rest in his hands before lifting his gaze to the open stretch of land ahead of them.
Weatherby cleared his throat. “There is a matter we must discuss, My Lord. The young woman who came for the interview this morning.”
Tobias lifted the gun to his shoulder and sighted along the barrel. “The piano tutor?”
“Yes, My Lord. Miss Marwood.” Weatherby stepped a little closer, keeping his hands behind his back. “Her references are in excellent order.”
Tobias gave a small nod. “Very well.”
Weatherby continued, “Her instructors speak well of her.”
Tobias shifted his weight. “I see.”
“She has performed in several households of good standing.”
“And you believe she is suitable,” Tobias said, adjusting his stance.
“I do, My Lord. She is capable and quick.”
Tobias narrowed his eye along the barrel. “Go on.”
“She answered every question without hesitation.”
“Very well.”
Weatherby paused before continuing. “She spoke clearly about her methods.”
“Her methods?”
“She intends to begin with scales and simple exercises to strengthen the children’s hands.”
“Sensible.” Tobias watched the horizon.
“And she believes in short lessons at first, repeated often, so they do not grow restless.”
Tobias narrowed his eye along the barrel again. “That is very sensible.”
“Yes, My Lord. She also asked about their temperaments,” Weatherby said, an approving tone in his voice.
Tobias briefly glanced towards Weatherby, then returned his focus to the gun. “What did she want to know about their temperaments?”
“She wished to know whether Julian prefers structure or variety, and whether Miss Amabel grows discouraged easily. She said she adjusts her approach to each child. That is not common among applicants.”
Tobias shifted his weight. “Most simply recite their accomplishments.”
“Precisely, My Lord. Miss Marwood spoke more of what she hoped to teach than of what she has already done. She said music should give the children confidence, and she believes it steadies them. She also offered to assist Mrs. Bracknell with their daily routine if needed.”
Tobias lowered the gun slightly, listening intently.
Weatherby continued, “The children may respond well to her. She has a calm manner. She did not speak down to them during the introduction. She asked Julian what pieces he already knew and praised his posture, and she told Miss Amabel that small hands can play well if they learn to place each finger with care. The child seemed pleased.”
Tobias lifted the gun again.
“That is the point of hiring her,” Tobias said.
“Indeed, My Lord.” Weatherby hesitated again. “There is also the matter of her manner. She carries herself well. She is pleasant to look at, too.”
Tobias fired. The shot cracked across the field. The bird rose too late, and the pellets scattered into the open air. He lowered the gun and handed it back to Weatherby.
Weatherby accepted it with a small nod, waiting for his response.
Tobias said, “I had not noticed.”
Tobias accepted the gun back from Weatherby, the weight familiar in his hands.
He checked the barrel out of habit, then rested it lightly against his shoulder as he scanned the open field for another bird.
The dogs moved ahead in a loose line, their noses low, their tails shifting with quiet purpose.
One of them paused to look back at him, waiting for direction, then trotted on when he gave a small nod.
You are lying, he thought. You have been thinking about those eyes ever since your brief encounter.
He stepped a little farther into the field, boots pressing into the soft ground. The dogs fanned out. Tobias lifted the gun slightly, ready for movement.
Even though it was only a second, it has been on your mind all morning.
He shook his head once, a short, controlled motion meant to clear it. A bird rustled somewhere in the brush, and he shifted his stance, watching for the rise.
You have no time for distractions, and certainly not for a young woman with bright eyes and an open expression.
The dogs caught the sound before he did. Two of them froze, their bodies tense, waiting for his signal. Tobias raised the gun, sighting along the barrel, but the bird stayed hidden. After a moment, he lowered it again.
Weatherby stepped up beside him. Tobias adjusted his grip and moved forward, the dogs circling ahead to flush out another target.
Lionel would have known how to handle this situation. He always knew what was best.
He exhaled slowly, the thought settling heavier than he intended. Another bird lifted from the grass, and Tobias raised the gun again, following its path. The dogs barked once, sharp and eager, urging him on.
He steadied himself, set his feet, and prepared for the next shot, determined to keep his mind on the field and nowhere else.
He did not allow his thoughts to linger on his brother. He had spent too many nights replaying the last months of Lionel’s life, searching for a moment he could change. There was no point in searching. The past did not change.
Weatherby waited, respectful and still, and Tobias knew he had to decide about the young woman.
“Hire the girl,” Tobias said, vowing to put any further thoughts of her out of his mind.
The decision settled over him with finality. It was the sensible choice, the practical one, yet it felt like opening a door he had not meant to touch. He tightened his grip on the gun, determined not to let a passing impression become anything more.
Weatherby bowed slightly. “At once, My Lord.”
Tobias looked out across the field again. The mist had lifted fully now, leaving the land clear and sharp. He raised the gun for another shot, determined to keep his mind on the task before him.