Him. A man who once needed no one, and in fact fought against that closeness, now wanted it with his ward. It was her innocence and vulnerability that brought out his protective instincts. He would never let her suffer as he had.
After wandering for a while and chatting to her about what they saw, to which she’d answered occasionally with a nod or smile, Toby noticed a group gathered in the park and headed that way. The day was mild, and Florence wore her little jacket over her dress and bonnet in a matching shade of rose pink, looking cute.
They reached the ring of people and eased into a space. The young man to his left shuffled sideways to accommodate them. Barnaby then sat on Toby’s foot. Clearly the grass was damp.
“Lord Corbyn,” the young man then said, nodding.
He tried to put a name to the face. It was the eyes that gave him away. Liberty’s brother Edward.
“Lord Talbot,” Corbyn said, bowing. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Florence, my ward, and her dog Barnaby.”
Florence looked up at Liberty’s brother and then dropped into a credible curtsey while still holding Toby’s hand.
“Well, he’s a fine looking fellow,” Edward said, patting the golden head while smiling at Florence.
He felt yet another jolt of pain in his chest looking at the boy, because it made him think of the brother he’d lost too soon. Liberty and Toby had often discussed Edward and Mathew, and the men they’d one day become.
“Do you enjoy chess, Miss Florence?” Edward asked.
“I have never played,” she said.
“And you, my lord?” Toby asked him.
“We are neighbors, Lord Corbyn. My name is Edward.” He hadthat straightforward way of speaking his sister had once used. “And no, chess is not my game.”
“And I am Toby. Are you here alone, Edward?”
“No. Liberty is about to play.”
Toby’s head snapped around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t strain something. There she was, seated at a nearby table, glasses perched on her nose, a small frown pulling at her brows. She wore her favorite shade of pale blue, a deeper blue pelisse over it, and a matching bonnet. A few fiery curls had escaped to frame her face, and his chest gave a traitorous squeeze at the sight.
Sweet, he thought. Something about this woman got to him, and he suspected part of that was due to the connection they’d once shared.
“The man who organizes this had no wish for Liberty to participate, which was enough to spur her on to do so,” Edward said. “She’s taking that man apart. I knew she would, because he smirked at her. Not a sound notion, Toby. As you know my sister, you’ll understand what I mean.” The boy then held out a bag of hot chestnuts, which Toby slid his hand into, because hot chestnuts were a particular favorite of his. He then bent down to give Florence one.
He stood beside Liberty’s brother and watched her play, with Florence now leaning on his legs. She was crunching chestnuts and feeding bits to Barnaby. What surprised Toby was how comfortable he felt in that moment with these two, and the dog.
“I’m not a lip reader, you understand, Toby, but I think my sister’s opponent said something pitying to Liberty because she’s giving him her sickly-sweet smile,” Edward said.
Toby remembered that smile.
“Suffice to say, she will want to beat him soundly after that.”
Looking around them, Toby saw mainly men watching. A few were frowning and muttering and pointing at Liberty. A woman in their midst was not making them happy.
As if sensing him looking at them, several turned his way, and Toby sent them a hard look.
“You and my sister were once friends,” Edward said softly.
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “We were.”
“I was young, but I remember you because you had a younger brother and when he came with you to visit, he often played with me.”
Toby swallowed the lump in his throat those words produced.
“Please allow me to say how sorry I am for his death.”
“Thank you,” Toby rasped.
