“Don’t you?” Daniel leant forward, elbows on knees. “You’ve been pacing this room for three hours. Three hours, Tobias. I watched you through the window like some sort of caged beast, wearing a path in the carpet that the club steward will certainly send you an invoice for. So either you’ve developed a sudden passion for exercise, or something is tearing you apart.”
“Perhaps I simply enjoy pacing.”
“And perhaps I enjoy listening to Lady Carstair’s musical assaults on good taste, but we both know that’s a lie.” Daniel’s expression softened fractionally. “She’s marrying Ashbourne. Tonight they’ll announce it.”
Not a question. Of course, Daniel would know---he always knew everything worth knowing about London’s social machinery. The information still landed like a blade between Tobias’s ribs.
“Then I wish her well.”
“Liar.”
Tobias surged to his feet, the movement sharp enough to send his chair scraping backwards. He crossed to the window overlooking St. James’s Street, where carriages rattled past in the gathering dusk, carrying people to parties and suppers and all the glittering inanity that comprised polite society.
Somewhere in this sprawling city, Amelia was preparing for the ball. Donning whatever gown she’d chosen. Pinning up that golden-brown hair he’d imagined running his fingers through more times than honour allowed. Steeling herself to accept a proposal from a man who could offer her everything Tobias could not.
Respectability. Security. A life free from scandal.
Everything she deserved.
Everything he would destroy if he were selfish enough to claim her.
“You’re just going to let her?” Daniel’s voice held genuine disbelief. “After everything? After months of playing the devoted guardian, after nearly coming to blows over society’s whispers, after looking at her like she’s the answer to every prayer you’ve been too afraid to voice---you’re simply going to stand aside whilst some polished fool claims her hand?”
“It’s what’s right.”
The words tasted like ash on his tongue.
Daniel laughed---a sharp, bitter sound devoid of humour. “Right? That’s your justification? Tobias, you’ve spent your entire adult life thumbing your nose at what’s ‘right.’ You’ve gambled fortunes, seduced half of London’s widows, and cultivated a reputation that makes mothers lock up their daughters. Butnow, when it actually matters, you’ve suddenly discovered morality?”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Because she’s---” Tobias stopped, the words catching in his throat like broken glass. “Because she deserves better than me.”
“Better than the man who protected her when society turned vicious? Better than the man who helped her raise her son? Better than the man she’s clearly in love with?”
Tobias spun, every muscle coiled tight. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Speak the truth?” Daniel rose, crossing to him with deliberate slowness. “I’ve watched you for years, Tobias. Watched you avoid anything resembling real feeling. Watched you cultivate that charming rake persona like armour againstgenuine connection. And now you’re telling me you feel nothing for this woman?”
“I feel protective. Responsible. As any gentleman should toward his brother’s widow.”
“Protective men don’t look like they’re being flayed alive when discussing her future happiness.”
The observation struck too close. Tobias turned back to the window, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached.
“What would you have me do, Daniel? Court my brother’s widow? Create a scandal that would destroy her reputation and Henry’s prospects? I cannot do that to her.”
“Society already whispers about her. About both of you. At least if you married her, you’d give them something worth whispering about.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.” Daniel’s voice gentled fractionally. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re sacrificing both your happiness and hers on the altar of propriety. And since when have you given a damn about propriety?”
Since her. Since Amelia had walked into his life wrapped in widow’s weeds and quiet dignity, carrying grief and strength in equal measure. Since he’d held Henry and felt somethingshift irrevocably in his chest. Since he’d realised that caring for them---truly caring---meant putting their welfare above his own selfish desires.
“She needs stability,” he said finally. “Someone society respects. Someone who can give her the life Edward couldn’t.”
