“And you think Ashbourne is that man?”
“He’s everything I’m not. Respectable. Steady. A man whose reputation doesn’t precede him like a warning bell.”
“He’s also a pompous bore with the personality of tepid porridge.” Daniel moved to stand beside him, their reflections ghosting in the window glass. “I’ve known Ashbourne for years. He’s perfectly pleasant and utterly forgettable. Is that truly what you want for her? A lifetime of pleasant forgettability?”
“I want her to be happy.”
“Do you? Or do you want her to be safe? Because those aren’t the same thing, and you’re conflating them to justify your cowardice.”
The accusation struck home. Tobias’s hands curled into fists against the windowsill.
“You know nothing about it.”
“I know more than you think.” Daniel’s voice dropped, losing its edge. “I was terrified when I fell in love with Isadora. Absolutely terrified. She deserved far better than a third son with more charm than prospects. I spent months convincing myself she’d be happier with someone else. Someone who could give her everything I couldn’t.”
Tobias glanced at him sharply. Daniel rarely spoke of his wife---a woman he’d married five years ago in a match that had shocked everyone who’d assumed he’d remain a bachelor indefinitely.
“What changed?”
“I realised I was making decisions for her. Deciding what she needed, what she deserved, without ever asking what shewanted.” Daniel’s expression softened with something dangerously close to tenderness. “Turns out she wanted me. Flawed, imperfect, occasionally idiotic me. And every day since has been the greatest blessing of my life.”
The words hung in the air between them, weighted with significance. Tobias felt something crack in his chest---some carefully constructed wall he’d spent months building.
“It’s not the same,” he managed.
“Isn’t it? You love her. Don’t bother denying it---I can see it written across your face every time her name is mentioned. You love her, and she loves you, and the only thing standing between you is your own stubborn martyrdom.”
“She was Edward’s wife.”
“Edward is dead.” The words emerged blunt but not unkind. “He’s been dead for months, Tobias. And whilst I won’t speak ill of him, we both know his marriage to Lady Amelia was one of duty, not affection. You’re not betraying him by caring for her. If anything, you’re giving her what he never could.”
“Society won’t see it that way.”
“Society,” Daniel said with particular emphasis, “can go hang. Since when do you care what a collection of hypocrites and gossips think? The same people who whisper about Lady Amelia would turn around and praise Ashbourne for securing such a lovely bride, despite the fact that his first wife died in suspicious circumstances that no one ever bothered investigating properly.”
Tobias’s head snapped up. “What?”
“You didn’t know?” Daniel’s brows lifted. “Lady Ashbourne’s death was ruled accidental, but there were rumours. Questions about bruises. Questions the family’s solicitors made very certain never reached official inquiry.” He paused deliberately. “Is that truly the man you want raising Henry? The man you want touching Amelia?”
The thought ignited something feral in Tobias’s chest---a possessive rage that had no place in rational discussion. The image of Ashbourne’s hands on her, of Henry calling another man father, of Amelia trapped in another loveless marriage---
“Stop.”
“Why? Because the truth makes you uncomfortable?” Daniel pressed forward, relentless. “You’ve spent months protecting her, nearly came to blows over gossip, defended her against every whisper and slight. And now you’ll stand by whilst some polished fool---a potentially dangerous polished fool---claims her hand? Come now, Tobias. You don’t want what’s right. You wanther.”
The words struck deep, shattering the last of his carefully maintained defences. Tobias closed his eyes, feeling the truth of it wash through him like a flood breaking through a dam.
He wanted her. Not just in the base, physical way he’d wanted countless women before. He wanted her laughter and her strength. Her sharp observations and gentle touches. He wanted to wake beside her and fall asleep knowing she was safe. He wanted to watch her raise Henry and perhaps if the fates were kind give him siblings.
He wanted everything.
And the wanting was going to destroy him.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both.” Tobias opened his eyes, meeting Daniel’s gaze with something raw and desperate. “If I claim her, society will tear her apart. Every drawing room from here to Edinburgh will whisper about how quickly the widow moved on. How inappropriate the match is. How scandalous. Henry will grow up hearing it, knowing his mother chose passion over propriety. Is that what you’d have me do to them?”
