She forced herself to smile coolly after eliciting this bit of vulnerability, her eyes searching his.
“You wished to speak with me?”
Tobias cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. After long minutes, he broke the suffocating silence.
“Yes. I have… I have given considerable thought to your situation, Lady Amelia. To yours and young Henry’s.”
The word did not sit well with her. She had gone from wife to a... situation. She looked down at the carpet once more. A burdenfor the new viscount, one more thing he had to manage after his brother’s death.
“I see,” she said carefully, though she did not see at all. “And what conclusions have you reached, my lord?”
He moved closer to her, his gaze flickering between her and the sleeping child.
“I have decided,” he began again, his tone overly formal, “that you and Henry shall remain here at Redmond Park. Under my protection. Until such time as you remarry, of course. I shall ensure your security, handle all financial matters, and when your mourning period has concluded, I shall assist you in finding a suitable husband. A man who can provide you with the stability and comfort you deserve.”
Amelia felt her hands begin to tremble, and she clasped them tightly before her to still the motion. Irritation coursed through her at every word he said, and she took deep, slow breaths in a futile attempt to calm herself.
“I beg your pardon?”
Her voice was sharper than intended, and she watched Tobias’s brow furrow in evident confusion.
“I am merely offering you my protection,” he said, and she could hear genuine bewilderment in his tone. “Surely you must see that it is the most practical arrangement? You cannot remainhere alone, unchaperoned, without a man’s guidance. Society would?—”
“Oh, of course. When it comes to me, the thoughts of society matter. It is meant to control my life, my entire future… it hands me to you like a burden you cannot wait to hand off to the first available suitor.”
Tobias blinked furiously, then shook his head. “That is not what I meant. I am simply trying to?—”
“To manage me?” She took a step forward, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper so as not to wake Henry. “To control my future as though I were property to be disposed of at your convenience? To find me a husband as though I were a broodmare in need of a new master?”
“Amelia—”
“Lady Amelia,” she corrected sharply. The informality with which he addressed her felt suddenly too presumptuous. “You forget yourself, my lord.”
He had the grace to look abashed, at least. He made a point of avoiding her gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.
“I forget nothing. I am acutely aware that you are my responsibility now. My brother’s widow. My nephew’s mother. The law places you under my guardianship, whether either of us wishes it or not.”
“Your responsibility,” she repeated, and the words tasted bitter upon her tongue. “How very charitable of you, Lord Redmond. And tell me, how long until you find me a next husband to dispose me to?”
“I do not mean to…”
She shook her head and laughed, though the sound was void of any humour. “I suppose I should apologize for Henry. It will not be easy, will it, to find an esteemed match who will be willing to take on a wife and another man’s child. But you seem to be quite eager to take on the challenge.”
Tobias shook his head in response to the unjust attack. “Please, my lady,” he said. “It was not my intention to upset you. I just…”
“You what, Lord Tobias?”
The air between them changed, their eyes meeting. Tobias sighed and broke eye contact first.
“I did not mean to offend,” he said gently, “I was merely…”
“I know,” Amelia said at last, her temper subsiding. For so long, she had been silent that the rage she felt for her father and late husband exploded at him: Tobias, the nearest person to her. “I know only that you are offering me exactly what your brother did: security in exchange for obedience. But a cage with gilded bars is still a cage, my lord.”
“It is not the same thing at all.”
“Is it not?” She moved toward him now, propelled by an anger that had been building for years. “You speak of finding me a suitable husband, as though my desires are of no consequence. As though I am a problem to be solved rather than a person with thoughts and feelings of her own. How is that any different from what Edward did? He chose me because I was biddable. Because I would not cause trouble or demand too much. And now you propose to do the very same thing—select some appropriate gentleman who will take me off your hands and allow you to return to your carefree existence without the burden of a tiresome widow to manage.”
“That is utterly unfair.”
