Chapter 26 #2
Lord Stanhope moved on, wearing a smug, satisfied expression.
I cannot wait to wipe that look from his face, Tobias thought.
A moment later, Viola stepped toward the greeting line, moving to her parents as they reached the entrance.
She curtsied to Lord and Lady Stanhope and spoke with them for a moment, her voice warm and polished.
When their exchange was complete, she turned to Tobias with a bright smile and extended her hand.
“Tobias,” she said. “How very fine it is to see the house so full again. I knew this gathering would be just what you needed.”
He bowed over her hand with forced courtesy. “You were very insistent.”
His smile remained polite, though his tone carried a coolness she did not acknowledge.
“I only want what is best for you,” she replied lightly. “And for the estate. It has been far too long since these rooms held proper company.”
Tobias nodded, watching her eyes drift over the hall as if she were quietly assessing the success of the evening. She took in the guests, the footmen, and the steady flow of arrivals with a satisfaction she did not trouble to hide.
The rest of the guests finished arriving, and the entrance hall gradually shifted from the bustle of arrivals to the steady hum of conversation.
Footmen closed the great doors, musicians began to play in the adjoining room, and the evening settled into its proper rhythm.
Tobias moved through the hall, speaking with several of the older guests and ensuring that everything proceeded as planned.
Before long, Viola drifted to his side again.
She positioned herself close enough to appear that she belonged there, her posture composed, and her expression pleasant, as if it were natural for her to stand beside him while he observed the room.
Tobias understood the intention behind it but chose not to acknowledge it.
Her eyes swept the hall, and when she noticed Rosamund nearby, her expression tightened. She recovered quickly, smoothing her features, but the offense remained in her eyes.
“I had not expected to see her here,” Viola said quietly. “Although I suppose she must have some reason for attending. She is the sister of that piano tutor, after all.”
“It is an important night for Miss Marwood,” Tobias replied. “Her family would naturally wish to support her.”
Viola gave a small, dismissive nod, though her attention lingered on Rosamund longer than courtesy required.
Tobias followed her gaze and saw Weatherby approaching Rosamund, speaking to her in a low, steady voice. Viola’s eyes widened in horror.
“A butler,” she whispered. “Here, in the midst of the guests.”
“He is overseeing the service,” Tobias said calmly. “This is a large gathering, and he must ensure the footmen are properly coordinated. It is entirely reasonable for him to be present.”
Viola did not look convinced. “Even so, it is highly unusual. Some might even say improper.”
Rosamund dipped her head at once, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Weatherby stiffened beside her, his jaw tightening as they both clearly heard Viola’s words.
Heat rose in Tobias’s chest, but he kept his composure. “Nonsense,” he said. “There is nothing to be upset about.”
He lifted his hand slightly. “Weatherby, come here for a moment.”
Weatherby approached at once, though Tobias saw the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes flicked toward Rosamund, who stood very still behind him.
“What this evening needs is dancing,” Tobias said.
Weatherby blinked. “Dancing, sir?”
“Yes,” Tobias said. “Dancing. Immediately.”
Understanding dawned in Weatherby’s expression. He straightened, then turned to Rosamund with a confidence that had not been there a moment before.
“Miss Rosamund,” he said, offering his hand with quiet dignity, “would you do me the honor?”
Rosamund’s blush deepened, but she nodded. “Yes, I would like that.”
They stepped onto the floor as the musicians struck up a lively tune. Within moments, the two of them were laughing, stumbling once or twice, then finding their rhythm. After a few moments, they were both pink-cheeked and smiling.
Viola stared, horrified. “Tobias, this is meant to be a recital, not a village assembly.”
He ignored her. Over Viola’s shoulder, he saw Cecily slip quietly out of a side room and move toward the staircase. The candlelight caught her as she stepped forward, softening the ivory of her gown and giving her a gentle radiance.
Her hair had been arranged with care, a few loose curls framing her face in a way that made her look both elegant and untouched by the noise of the gathering. She carried herself with a calm grace that drew the eye without any effort at all.
She paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced back once, just long enough for him to see the question in her eyes.
Go. I will keep her occupied.
He knew he needed to distract Viola to give Cecily more time. He took a deep breath, then turned with a polite smile that revealed nothing of his urgency.
“Would you care to dance?”
She blinked, clearly startled, her expression tightening before she managed to smooth it into something more composed. “Dance? With you?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“But this is not a ball.”
“And yet,” he replied, raising his voice just enough for those nearest to hear, “a little dancing will do the room good. It is my house. I decide what suits the evening.”
She hesitated, caught between offense and the far greater fear of appearing to refuse in front of half the ton. Her chin lifted a fraction, her smile tightening as she tried to recover her composure. After a brief pause, she placed her hand in his.
“Very well,” she said. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
He led her toward the floor. As they stepped into the first turn, he caught sight of Cecily at the top of the stairs. She paused, watching him and Viola together, her expression unreadable.
Forgive me. We have a plan to complete.
Cecily disappeared down the corridor above, and Tobias guided Viola through the steps, every moment calculated to keep her attention fixed firmly on him.
The night was only beginning.