His heir. This boy was to become a viscount himself, was to carry the burden that he had on his own shoulders now.
“Perhaps,” he heard himself saying, “we might consider engaging a nursemaid? And a governess, once Henry is of age? Someone to assist with his care and education?”
He felt Amelia stiffen before he saw it, felt the air between them change as decisively as weather shifting before a storm.
“Excuse me?” Her voice was quiet.
Tobias, oblivious to her unhappiness, continued: “Merely to ease your burden, you understand. You have shouldered so much alone, and with proper assistance?—”
“No, thank you.”
Their eyes met, and she lifted her chin, her anger palpable.
“I will not,” she said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion, “have strangers raising my son. Henry does not require a nursemaid. He requires his mother. And when the time comes for his education...”
“Amelia—” He caught himself. “Lady Amelia, I merely thought?—”
“You thought to manage me again.” She moved toward him, and Henry—seemingly sensing his mother’s distress—began to fuss. She took him from Tobias’s arms hastily. “Edward already thought me an unfit mother. And now… you wish to hire someone to be my son’s caretaker? I cannot have it.”
“That is not—I am the head of this household now. The estate. I am responsible for both of you. I just… thought that… well, engaging proper servants is merely?—”
“You are responsible for us?” Her eyes flashed with hurt. “I understand that Henry is your heir, and I respect that Lord Tobias. But me? I am not your responsibility. I will not be an inconvenience.”
“You are being unreasonable?—”
“I am being unreasonable?” She laughed coldly. “Once again, you immediately begin making decisions about how we should be managed. About what staff should be engaged. About what would ease my burden—as though you have the slightest understanding of what my burdens actually are.”
Tobias felt his own temper rising to meet hers. “I am trying to help!”
“I did not ask for your help!” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and Henry began to cry in earnest. She immediately softened her voice, soothing the child, but her eyes when they met Tobias’s remained hard as flint. “What I want—what I have told you repeatedly—is to be allowed to make my own decisions. To raise my son as I see fit. To live my life without a man dictating my every move.”
“I am not dictating?—”
“Perhaps you do not mean to,” She adjusted Henry on her hip, the child still sniffling against her shoulder. “But I have been owned all my life. First by my father, then your brother. I… I do not wish to be anyone’s responsibility anymore. I am… So incredibly tired.”
She looked at him silently after the outburst. He opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself, to explain that he had meant only kindness—but she was already starting to leave.
“Lady Amelia, please?—”
“I believe,” she said without turning back, “that we have nothing further to discuss at present. Good day, my lord.”
Then she was gone, taking Henry and his cries with her, leaving Tobias alone in the drawing room with the echo of her misery, wondering what his brother had done to make this woman so defensive about anything remotely resembling kindness.
CHAPTER 5
“Mama, why you sad?”
Amelia’s hands trembled violently as she closed the nursery door behind her, the brass handle cool beneath her palm. She pressed her back against the solid wood, her heart pounding with such force she feared it might betray her entirely.
Had she gone entirely mad? She cannot even imagine what Edward would have done if she’d had the gall to speak to him in this manner.
She had raised her voice—actually raised her voice—to Lord Tobias Grant. To the man upon whose goodwill her entire future depended. To the new Viscount Redmond, who held complete authority over herself and her son. Who had only allowed her to remain in this home out of kindness.
“I am not sad, my darling,” she managed at last. “Merely tired, that is all.”
Yet that was not entirely true, was it? She was furious—furious with him for presuming to manage her life, yes, but more furious with herself for caring what he thought. For… wanting to be understood by him.
He was her late husband’s brother. The man society whispered about in scandalized tones. The rake who had gambled away fortunes and broken countless hearts. The dissolute younger son who had spent his entire existence avoiding responsibility of any sort.
