Page 76 of The Devil’s Lair

“Tobias.” I say his name softly, and his face crumples, all signs of humor fleeing.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper and yelling at you. After everything you’ve been through, you’re the one person I promised I’d never get angry around, and look what I did. I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me and you didn’t yell at me. You yelled”—I make a vague gesture—“generally.” I move a little closer. “I’m not fragile. I don’t want you to hide your feelings for my benefit.”

“I’ve been doing it so long, it’s basically my entire personality at this point.”

A piece of my heart breaks off, floating aimlessly inside my chest. I motion to the couch. “Will you sit with me?”

He does as I ask, his hands shaking. I sit, too, giving him enough space to not feel crowded. He stares at a spot on the carpet, but really, he’s staring at nothing. I recognize what he’s doing: processing. After taking several deep breaths, the tremors in his hands ease.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nods.

“Do you know what triggered that outburst? Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not saying you’re not allowed to be angry. You’re entitled to any feelings you have, and they’re far better out in the open than festering on the inside.” A small smile pulls at my lips. “You have Jane to thank for that piece of advice.” I pause. “The way you acted to what Vicky suggested was so out of character from the man I’ve come to know.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, his brows pulled in and down. “All I can tell you is that the suggestion of a governess set off a bomb inside me. The thought of someone being alone with Isla… teaching her…” He scrubs his face. “I can’t bear it.” When he faces me, his eyes are bleak. “But no matter what you say, I never should have let you see me like that. I want to provide calm, balance, a place for you to heal. Instead, I behaved like him. Like Marcus.”

I inch closer. Reaching out, I hover my palm over his. “May I?”

He hesitates, then nods.

I hold his hand, squeezing a little. “You are nothing like Marcus. Do you hear me? Nothing. I don’t want you to ever speak about yourself like that again. Marcus was an abusive bastard who did unspeakable things to me and terrified his own daughter to the extent she stopped speaking. Whereas you…” I squeeze his hand again. “You’re the loveliest person I’ve ever met.”

He gazes at me, sadness and confusion swimming in his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I react like that to such an innocuous suggestion?”

I nibble my lip, thinking. “Did you ever have a governess growing up?”

They’re rich enough to have afforded one. For me, the term governess was something referred to on TV programs like Downton Abbey, or in books that told stories of those with extreme wealth.

A frown pulls his eyebrows low. “I-I don’t think so. We always attended private schools.” He sighs, letting his head bump the back of the sofa. “I should apologize to everyone.”

“Why?”

“Because I ruined dinner. And yelled. I never yell. I’m the jovial one. Xan? Now, he yells, although less so since he married Imogen.”

“They’re your family. They’ll understand, and everyone is entitled to yell from time to time.”

He looks so concerned, so anxious, it makes something clench behind my ribs.

“So, I didn’t scare you?”

“Nope. I don’t think there’s a single thing you could do that would scare me.”

He nods, although I’m not sure whether he believes me. “There’s something I have to tell you, but I haven’t found the right time. And this probably isn’t the right time, either, but it can’t wait. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping things from you.”

“Oh?” An uncomfortable feeling circles in my chest. My go-to response is always erring on the negative. “What?”

“Remember when we returned from Cornwall, and I said I had some business to attend to?”

“Yes.”

“I went to see Preston La Salle.”

My lips part. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “Why?”

“To tell him that if he wanted his remaining son to stay above ground instead of beneath it, he’ll make sure Rory never comes near you again, nor has you followed.”