Page 100 of Lord Hartwell’s Refuge

His expression closed, his entire body stiffening. “That hardly means I mistook my feelings. I know what I felt.”

“I never said otherwise⁠—”

“And you and everyone else treated me the way you would a boy with a passing fancy.”

“Perhaps we were wrong.” That quieted him. “But she has been gone for months, Leo. You have spent all that time deciding what her absence meant to you and railing against it. She has had the same months in which to decide what it meant to her. You cannot begin again where you left off merely because she has come home.”

Something in his face shifted then. Not anger, but pain. “What if she no longer wants to choose me?”

At last, they had come to the heart of the matter. He was no longer the aggrieved lover, nor was he the confident eldest son. He was a man uncertain of himself, and the object of his affections, simply her brother.

Tamsin’s heart ached with real sympathy. “Oh, Leo. I cannot know what must be done. I wish I did. I would tell you if I knew.”

“But what am I supposed to do now?”

A flurry of answers fluttered about in her mind. Write to her. Call again. Speak to her father. Wait a week. Send flowers. Send a book, on a topic you spoke of. Anything!

She halted those thoughts as she took in a slow, gentle breath, before speaking to her brother as kindly as she knew how. “I think you will have to decide for yourself.”

His chin drew back. For a moment he simply stared, mouth slightly open. Thinking for himself had apparently not been among the possible outcomes he had anticipated.

Roman coughed. Tamsin turned her head with concern, but found her husband’s expression remained perfectly solemn. His eyes, however, were not. They fairly glimmered with laughter.

She hastily gave her attention back to Leopold before she did something he would find immensely insulting. Like giggling. “I can tell you what I think,” she said, tone properly level. “If Miss Despencer is willing to speak with you directly on the subject, then speak with her. Not her mother or her father. Find out from the lady herself what she thinks.”

“What should I say, exactly?” His gaze was on the carpet, his arms folded tight across his chest.

Tamsin did allow herself a smile now. “The truth would be a novel beginning.”

He huffed and raised his gaze to hers. “Tamsin.”

Did she truly have to do everything? “Tell her you still care for her. Ask whether she wishes you to continue paying your addresses. Listen to her answer.”

Leopold looked toward the window. “What if she says no?”

“Then she says no, and you must honor that decision.”

His face tightened. Tamsin wanted to go to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She wanted to tell him it would be all right, that she would find some way to help.

But her hand remained in her husband’s, and she remained seated.

“You will survive it, Leo,” she said gently.

Leopold gave a humorless laugh. “Comforting.”

“I did not say you would enjoy it.”

That earned a small smile. He stood there another moment before walking toward the door, and turning back to her with a shrug. “I had hoped you would be more useful.”

The words might once have hurt. Instead Tamsin tightened her hold on Roman, who glowered at her brother.

Leopold seemed to hear himself a moment too late as he winced. “Tamsin, I did not mean to be unkind.”

“I know, Leo.” She went to him at last. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He bent slightly to kiss her cheek.

Tamsin put her hands on his arms and fixed him with the most sisterly stare she could manage, trying to show affection and firmness in one go. “You must court your own lady.”