He hadn’t known that either. Toby thought Chadders was tough when required.
“Please inform Mrs. Luke I wish to speak with her in my office tomorrow morning. Then tell Stephen to have his sister Jane return to work the day after. Now, I am going to a ball, which right now seems a lot less complicated.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Joseph bowed.
“In the future, I would like to be notified of all the goings on. Can I rely on you to ensure that happens, Joseph?”
The man smiled… actually smiled. Toby couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that expression on his manservant’s face.
“I will, my lord, and thank you.”
“Right then. Good evening, Joseph. I’m sure there is a warm cup of tea and some of that superb vanilla cake in your immediate future. Whereas, I will eat small crab patties and pretend to like the people I am talking with.”
“Surely some of them you like?”
He smiled as his friends slid into his head. Evie too, but there was also now Liberty. “Some, yes.”
Joseph hesitated as he reached the door. “The household staff really do love Miss Florence and Barnaby, my lord. Never fear, that is not the case. They will be as loyal to them as they are to you.”
“Thank you, Joseph.”
Toby always checked on Florence one last time before he left the house, and Barnaby opened an eye as he entered the room. He slept beside her on the bed, something Miss Haigh did not like, but Toby allowed because, with the trauma this little girl had suffered, he wanted her to feel safe.
Smiling down at the sight of her lying on her side, hands under her chin, Toby felt it again, that fierce surge of emotion that he was coming to define as love. Patting the dog’s head he left, quietly closing the door behind him.
Walking along the halls of his townhouse seconds later, Toby poked about inside his chest and thought that he felt lighter. For so long, he’d carried a heavy weight there. Blackwood had nearly destroyed him.
“But it didn’t,” he muttered. He’d let it define him, and that was a sobering thought.
“Good evening, Chadders.” Toby greeted his butler when he reached the front entrance. “How is the gout this evening?”
He enjoyed the look of surprised pleasure on his butler’s face, and thought again, what a selfish bastard he’d allowed himself to become.
“It is a great deal better, Lord Corbyn. Thank you for asking.”
“Excellent, and now, like I just told Joseph, take your tea and ensure there is a wedge of vanilla cake with it.”
Toby walked out his front door sure that his butler’s jaw had just dropped open, and felt like whistling. He didn’t, but it was there.
A loud meow had him looking down. The biggest gray cat he’d ever seen sat there staring up at him.
“What are you doing here?” Toby asked, dropping to a crouch. He’d always loved animals because they never wanted more than a pat and food from you. But they, too, were something he’d shut out of his life until Barnaby had turned up with Florence. “Are you the neighbor’s cat?”
Did the Waltons have a cat?
The animal had matted fur and was missing half an ear. Toby didn’t think the Waltons, who were first class snobs, would have a cat like this one.
“My lord, is something wrong?”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw his butler standing on the front steps.
“Take this cat to the kitchens and feed it, Chadders.” Toby picked up the animal, and it purred loudly as he handed it to his butler. “I’m sure it will leave as soon as it has eaten,” he placated his servant.
The butler took the cat in stunned silence and retreated inside without another word. Toby looked at the sky and wondered if it was a full moon, as his actions in the last hour were different from those he’d undertaken inside his townhouse in the last ten years.
Reaching his carriage, he nodded to his driver and then looked at the young footman holding open the door.
“Are you Stephen?”
