Page 20

Find Avery a husband.

Avery—Emily.

Emily—Avery.

At this rate, Tobias would end up queer in the attic or seasick.

Why couldn’t he do both—sponsor Avery’s Come Out and court Emily?

Eyes narrowed, Tobias leaned back and rubbed his nose. Mayhap… He drummed his fingertips on the chair arm in contemplation.

It actually might work.

Yes. Why not?

It needn’t be an either-or situation.

In all likelihood, Emily would attend every function Avery did.

He’d insist upon it.

Tobias could kill the proverbial two birds with one stone, and if all went as he hoped it would, everyone would end up happily married before summer ended.

Footsteps sounded outside the open study door.

Emily was here.

He could no more have refrained from training his focus on the doorway than he could reach up and snatch the sun from the sodden, gunmetal-gray sky.

“Mrs. Grenville, Your Grace.”

Standing at barely three inches over five feet, what Pepperford lacked in stature, he more than made up in gravity and dignity. His elevated nose gave the impression of at least another two inches in height. A single severe-eyed glance could send footmen and maids scurrying, yet Tobias had never heard the butler raise his voice above a moderated tenor.

Thus far, Pepperford had refrained from turning his censorious gaze upon Tobias but should he ever… Something very near a shiver zipped up Tobias’s spine.

God, spare me.

How could someone so diminutive wield such authority, seemingly without effort?

Tobias’s attention strayed to Emily, even smaller than Pepperford.

She, too, exerted disconcerting power over him.

He, who stood two inches over six feet and regularly won wrestling matches in Scotland, controlled by that petite bundle of femininity.

If this was love, it turned men into sponge cake.

Unusually flushed and flustered, she hurried forward, untying her straw bonnet’s sky-blue ribbons as she advanced. Tension pinched the edges of her pretty eyes and crimped her plump mouth.

“Please forgive me for being late, Your Grace. Something unexpected occurred and delayed my departure.”

A hardness he hadn’t heard before sharpened her tone.

She was a vision, a breath of fresh air, springtime personified in a white gown with a lace overskirt embroidered with blue forget-me-nots, yellow roses, and pink apple blossoms.

“Please bring a tea tray, Pepperford.”

With a slight nod, Tobias dismissed the bland-faced servant. That tea tray would include almond biscuits because they were Emily’s favorite.

“At once, Your Grace.”

The butler dipped his chin and departed, leaving the study door open in his wake.

Nape hair raised in silent but urgent warning, Tobias moved from behind his desk and approached her.

“Is something amiss, Emily?”

He’d fallen into calling Emily by her given name when they were alone, and she hadn’t objected.

She glanced up through her lashes as she set her reticule on the long table behind the couch before removing her bonnet. Wordlessly, she set the hat on a table beside a hand-painted oil lamp and then peeled off her pale-blue gloves.

Patting her golden locks, she angled her head and gave him an indecipherable look.

Alarm bells clanged louder between his ears.

Opening her reticule, she pulled out a neatly folded news sheet. It crackled in protest at being removed from its cozy nest.

“We have a delicate situation, Tobias.”