Chapter Nineteen
There was something different about Tobias this evening.
Grace hadn’t meant to keep watch for him; she hadn’t even been aware she was doing it.
But the moment he had arrived in the drawing room, she felt his presence pressing against her skin, even though she was nowhere near him.
Something in the way he moved or the expression on his face struck her as unusual, although she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.
Not wanting to be caught staring at him, she had turned away, only to find her gaze sliding back to him throughout the half hour the guests all mingled before dinner was called.
She was talking to Sophia, when the lady’s eyes widened fractionally.
‘Grace,’ said Tobias, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. ‘May I escort you in to dinner?’
Sophia seemed to be intently studying the wall to her left.
‘I should be honoured,’ said Grace, a shot of pleasure rushing through her.
Sophia flashed her a quick grin, which Grace hoped Tobias had not seen, before walking swiftly away, leaving Grace with the duke.
Conversation which came so easily to her outside the house felt stifled in the formal room and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him.
But it wasn’t necessary, because Tobias was moving them towards the dining room and everyone was following.
He led her to the seat on his right, which she took, ignoring some of the more curious glances at her. Once they were both seated, he asked, ‘How is your bird in the box?’
‘I call him Benedict,’ she told him. ‘I thought he deserved a name.’
‘Are you that confident your bird is a boy?’ Tobias asked, picking up his wine glass.
‘I am not au fait with sparrow anatomy, but he looks like a Benedict.’
Tobias smiled over the rim of his glass, and she realised that was what was different about him. There was an air of amusement, a lightness about him that wasn’t normally apparent. ‘Of course he does,’ Tobias said. ‘It is the dark-brown head. It is very distinguished. Is he faring any better?’
‘He was hopping happily around his box when I left him and your gardener has provided me with some’—it struck her then that she was about to talk about worms at the dinner table in front of a duke.
Before she could embarrass herself, she managed to switch to saying—’food for him, which he appeared to enjoy. ’
‘I am glad to hear it. I should hate for any guest at my house not to be provided the very best cuisine.’
This light-hearted version of the duke baffled her.
Not because she hadn’t known this side of him existed, but because she had never seen him make jokes in front of other people.
Granted, he was talking directly to her and everyone else was deeply involved in their own conversations, but it was different and she had no idea what had caused it.
He seemed to be waiting for a response from her, so she said, ‘Charlotte is very taken with him.’
‘Of course she is. No doubt I shall be besieged by requests for an entire menagerie to be installed here.’
‘Oh no, she would not want animals to be held in captivity.’ And by that Grace meant that she would not like it.
Not that she could do anything to stop it, except tell her niece that it was not a good idea.
Charlotte was not old enough to understand what it was like to be kept somewhere you did not want to be.
God willing, she would never know how awful it was to be trapped somewhere without hope.
That was what marriage had been like for Grace, and she would wish it on no person or creature.
Wanting to stay as far away from those thoughts as possible, she said, ‘She is enjoying feeding Benedict worms though.’ And there it was; she had brought up worms in a ducal residence.
The lines around his eyes deepened, although there was no hint of a smile on his lips. ‘Excellent.’
‘You would be welcome to help her out.’
‘You are too kind.’
And finally, he did smile; something light and bubbly took flight inside her at the sight. The meal continued around them, the babble of voices making conversations indistinct, but it didn’t really matter. They may as well have been alone.
‘Aside from rescuing birds, how else are you passing your time?’ he asked.
‘Charlotte wanted to visit the horses, so we spent some time this morning in the stables. She kept asking if she could ride one, but there wasn’t one that was a suitable size.’
‘I shall have to see about getting her a pony.’
Grace’s heart dropped. ‘Oh no, that is a terrible idea.’
‘It is?’ he asked, as he cut into his partridge.
‘Yes.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Horses are scary animals.’
He put his fork on the side of his plate, turning to study her face. ‘Do you not ride?’
‘No, and I have no desire to learn, in case you are about to offer to teach me. Aside from anything else, I am terrible at taking instruction. We should fall out again, and that would be a shame considering how far we have come in our relationship.’ Face burning at her implication that they were more than acquaintances, Grace busied herself in moving a slice of partridge from one side of her plate to another, and then back again.
‘Did something happen to put you off? Other than what happened to Clare and Sebastian.’
‘The accident was not the animals’ fault,’ she said.
They had never fully discussed the details of her sister’s and his brother’s deaths and the thought that she still had to tell him about that killed any fluttery feelings she’d been experiencing, which was a good thing she supposed.
His marked preference for her company would end when he knew the whole truth.
It was something she should not put off much longer.
But she had been enjoying the Dashworths’ company so much that every time she had come close to her final confession, she had shied away from it, not wanting this stage of her life to end too soon.
‘I have never been keen to get close to a horse and I do not remember a reason for that. I just find them very… tall, and they never smell all that nice. Not to mention their hot breath.’ She shuddered at the thought of a horse close enough to breathe on her.
Her parents had neither encouraged nor discouraged her from riding as a child, so she could not blame them for her aversion.
It wasn’t that some nasty incident in her childhood had put her off, and she loved animals, could even admire horses from afar.
Clare had learned after her marriage to Sebastian and had enthused about the experience, suggesting that Grace learn so that they could ride together.
Normally willing to do whatever her sister wanted, the prospect had not enticed Grace one bit.
‘You are scared of learning, then?’
Despite the fact that Tobias’ eyes were twinkling and she guessed he was deliberately goading her, she still felt her spine straighten. ‘Of course I am not scared.’
‘Then you will not object to me teaching you.’
‘I do not like the way they breathe,’ she reminded him.
‘If you are on the back of the horse, then you will not have to contend with what is coming out of its nose.’
She opened her mouth to refuse, and then shut it again.
Tobias and his brothers had been very busy, riding out from the estate every morning and then returning at various times of the day.
That suggested they had been travelling to different destinations, and she wanted to know why.
She suspected it was to do with her parents and she wanted to know how that was progressing.
And, said a voice deep within her, you want to spend time with Tobias.
‘On reflection, I should like to give it a try.’
If her easy capitulation surprised him, he did not show it. His gaze flicked briefly to her lips, the look so fleeting she may have imagined it. A shiver of something delicious whipped down her spine regardless.
‘We are both early risers. Shall we say first thing tomorrow morning?’
The strange, bubbly feeling was building, rising in her chest; excitement or nerves, she couldn’t tell. ‘I should like that.’
She only realised they had descended into silence, looking at each other and not doing anything else, when Mrs Jacobs, Sophia’s mother, addressed a comment to the table about a shopping trip to the nearby village.
‘I would love to visit the seamstress there again,’ Mrs Jacobs, a woman of boundless energy and enthusiasm, continued. ‘She created one of my favourite dresses. Do say we can get a party together and go.’
Grace remembered Tobias’ comment about her not being a prisoner and wondered how he would deal with this potential mass outing. It was surely not something he desired, but how was he to put everyone off without coming across as a medieval warlord preparing for a siege? It was not he who responded.
Emily, perhaps without thinking, said, ‘Of course we can go. We can put on some carriages and make a day of it. There are some pretty ruins near the village, which would be delightful to visit in this lovely weather we are having. We could take a picnic and explore.’
There was a general murmur of excited agreement around the table.
Tobias said nothing, his jaw tight. He could hardly keep his family safe if they were scattered across the county.
At the same time, it might raise suspicions with the non-family members if none of them left.
As far as Grace was aware, the Dashworths had discussed their problem with no one outside of their inner circle.
‘What an excellent idea. A trip sounds wonderful,’ she found herself saying.
‘However, I shall put on some games, for those of us who prefer to remain at home.’ Heat flamed across her skin as everyone turned to look at her and she realised just how far she had overstepped.
By suggesting an alternative, she had put herself on a level with Emily, which had not been her intention.
Without thinking it through, she turned to Tobias and made the whole thing a lot worse by addressing him directly.
‘That is, if it is acceptable to you, T… Your Grace.’
Her body was now so hot, she was surprised she had not burst into flames.
Watching the way his shoulders hitched, the words not forthcoming, she wished fire would consume her.
Because she appeared to be on a mission to sabotage herself, she smiled wildly at him, as if this was all completely normal, that it was entirely her responsibility to organise activities in a house that was not her own.
The answering crinkle around his eyes, the softening of his whole demeanour, was not something she focused on, because something else surprised her instead. ‘A day of games sounds just the thing, thank you, Mrs Wilmott.’
It was the most she had ever heard him say in front of a large group of people.
Around the room, she could sense people stilling, slowing down to study the moment, and it hit her then how much of a disaster that would be.
Focusing on something that made Tobias different from everyone else would only highlight it.
‘Excellent,’ she said quickly, filling the moment before it could become awkward.
‘What games do you English like to play? Pall-mall, perhaps?’
She had seen a course laid out at Glanmore House in London, but she had never seen any of them use it.
Tobias laughed softly. ‘So long as you do not let my brothers play, that sounds like a good option.’
The rest of the room had descended into complete silence. Everyone was watching them converse. Sweat was starting to bead across Grace’s forehead. The last thing she had wanted to do was draw attention to him, not when he loathed it.
‘Are your brothers very bad at it?’ she asked, instantly cursing that she’d asked a question and not made a statement that could be replied to with a shake or nod of the head.
There was another pause, another hitch of his shoulders, before he said, ‘Christopher is diabolical.’
The whole table erupted into laughter amid Christopher’s shouted protests that his brothers all cheated, and that he would prove once and for all that it was pure make-believe that he was bad at the simple game.
Tobias’ lips were curved slightly upwards, not a full grin, but a half-smile, as the good-natured insults continued to abound.
Grace sank back in her chair, her whole body weak with relief that the moment of crisis had passed.
As the meal progressed, the Dashworth brothers occasionally directed remarks to Tobias.
Grace had not been to that many meals with them, but enough to recognise that this was unusual.
Tobias normally ate in silence, sometimes addressing those seated near him, but rarely involving himself in the meal as a whole.
His guests and family were used to his quiet presence and carried on without him.
Now, while no one could call him the most animated of hosts, he was responding when asked questions, and even made everyone laugh again with another jibe at his youngest brother’s pall-mall ability or lack thereof.
Grace didn’t know how to explain the ache in her sternum; a cross between pleasure and pain, it was something she had not felt before.
It was almost as if she was proud of Tobias, which was ridiculous.
He was not hers to be proud of, but there was definitely part of her that wanted to say, ‘See, this is what Tobias is really like, if only you took the time to look.’
The problem was, she was starting to look too much.
When the last of the plates were removed, Emily stood and everyone followed suit. ‘Shall we retire, ladies?’
Under the general noise of the women moving from their seats, Tobias leaned forward and said, ‘First light then, Mrs Wilmott.’
‘First light,’ she agreed, unable to stop a wide smile from spreading across her face, or her heart tripping when he smiled back.