Something odd happened then. His butler softened, and his shoulders lowered, and he was bending at the waist smiling at the child. “How wonderful it is to meet you, Miss Florence. We are so very happy to have you with us.”
Clearing his throat, Toby introduced Miss Haigh.
“Well then, let me show you the nursery,” Toby said when they all fell into an uncomfortable silence.
They trooped up the stairs past large austere paintings of his ancestors. If a small child were to live in this place, he needed to do something about it. They entered the nursery in a silent procession, with Chadders at the rear.
Toby stood just inside as Miss Haigh and Florence entered.
“Oh now, isn’t this lovely,” the nanny said, looking around her. “Don’t you think it’s lovely, Miss Florence?”
The girl didn’t speak, just walked across the room to the windows, beneath which sat the doll’s house. She then dropped to the floor and picked up a doll with golden hair and hugged it close.
“Miss Florence is probably tired so she will need a sleep, Lord Corbyn,” Miss Haigh said.
“Would you like a tray sent up before she does?” Toby asked.
“Yes, please.” Miss Haigh hesitated.
“Please speak freely, Miss Haigh. Now is not the time for anythingelse, as Florence’s welfare is at stake,” Toby said.
“She is scared, sad, and unsure what this new life is, my lord.”
“Completely understandable. I feel the same way and I’m an adult who has not lost his parents recently.”
Miss Haigh nodded. “It will take her time to adjust.”
“Luckily, she has you to help her with that. I would be grateful for any guidance from you as to how I should proceed.”
“Of course. If I may suggest before you leave, my lord, you say goodbye to her.”
Toby moved to stand behind the little girl. “I will leave you to your nap, Florence, and will not be far away should you need me.”
She didn’t look at him, just one solemn nod again.
Toby walked from the room, vowing that Florence would never want for anything. Love, however, she would likely have to get from others, as it had been a long time since he’d given that to anyone, and was no longer sure he knew how.
Chapter Thirteen
Toby fought theurge to walk out of the house instead of in through the doors of Lord and Lady Manwaring’s.
How was Florence?
He knew, of course, it was late and she was no doubt sleeping. He’d spent the days since her arrival in his household standing outside the nursery door and listening a lot. It had mainly been Miss Haigh who was talking or singing. In fact, he’d not heard Florence speak in his presence yet.
He’d taken tea with her in the nursery. Walked outside with her and Miss Haigh, and the child had stayed pressed to her nanny’s leg as far from him as she could get. He didn’t know how to get her to trust him. How to get her to like him, and it bothered him deeply.
Toby thought he wasn’t fit company for a five-year-old girl, but the long dormant feelings she roused inside him made him want to try for her.
Time, Miss Haigh had said. It would take time. He’d not had his friends over in those days and only left the house when necessary. He’d simply walked the halls waiting until he got word of how Florence was doing. Waiting until he could take tea with her.
It was hell. She carried his blood, and wanted nothing to do with him. So tonight he’d made himself return to society.
After greeting the hosts, he entered the ballroom.
“Corbyn.”
The drawl had Toby’s back stiffening, but he turned with his usual social mask firmly in place.
