“I’d have you be honest. With yourself, if no one else.” Daniel’s expression gentled. “Tobias, you’ve spent your life believing you’re not good enough. That you’re the spare, the disappointment, the man who’ll never measure up to his brother’s perfection. But Edward is gone, and you’re the one who stepped up. You’re the one who protected them, who cared for them, who gave Henry the affection his father never could.”
“That doesn’t make me worthy of her.”
“No. But loving her does. Choosing her does. Being brave enough to fight for what you want---to fight forher---that’s what makes you worthy.” Daniel gripped his shoulder, the touch grounding. “You love her. You’ve loved her for months. So either do something about it, or live the rest of your life wondering why you didn’t.”
Silence crashed down between them. Through the window, London continued its evening ritual lamplighters making their rounds, carriages departing for various entertainments, life moving forward with relentless indifference.
Somewhere, Amelia was preparing to accept another man’s proposal.
Somewhere, she was choosing safety over the dangerous, complicated thing that existed between them.
Somewhere, she was giving up.
Unless he stopped her.
The realisation settled over him like dawn breaking---inevitable and illuminating and absolutely terrifying. He could let her go. Could stand aside and watch her marry Ashbourne and spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been. Could be noble and honourable and utterly, devastatingly alone.
Or he could fight.
Could stride into that ballroom and claim what his heart had known for months. Could risk everything reputation, social standing, propriety, for the chance at something real.
Could choose her.
The decision crystallised with startling clarity. Tobias pushed away from the window, his movements suddenly decisive.
“What time does the ball begin?”
Daniel’s expression shifted from concern to something approaching triumph. “Half past eight. Why?”
Tobias was already moving toward the door, his earlier paralysis burned away by sudden, fierce purpose. “Because I’m going to stop her.”
“Finally!” Daniel followed, his grin sharp with satisfaction. “Though I should warn you---bursting into a ball to declare your undying devotion is rather melodramatic, even for you.”
“I don’t care.”
And he didn’t. Didn’t care about scandal or whispers or what society might think. Didn’t care that he’d spent months building walls against precisely this moment. Didn’t care about anything except getting to her before she made a decision that would bind her to the wrong man forever.
He loved her. Completely, irrevocably, with a depth that terrified and exhilarated him in equal measure.
And he was done pretending otherwise.
The cool evening air struck his face as they emerged onto St. James’s Street. Daniel was saying something about propriety and timing, but Tobias barely heard him. His mind raced ahead to the ballroom, to Amelia’s face when she saw him, to the words he’d spent months swallowing.
I love you.
Three words. So simple. So devastating.
I love you, and I’m not letting you go.
His carriage pulled up with gratifying speed. Tobias hauled himself inside, barely waiting for Daniel to follow before rapping sharply on the roof.
“Where are we going?” his friend asked, though the knowing gleam in his eye suggested he already knew.
“To commit social suicide,” Tobias said grimly. “Or secure my future happiness. Possibly both.”
“Excellent. I’ve always enjoyed a good scandal.” Daniel settled back against the squabs, looking thoroughly entertained. “Though I should mention---Ashbourne will be furious. The man’s pride is legendary.”
“Then he can challenge me. I’ll gladly meet him at dawn.”
