“You can dance with Lord Gregory later,” Miss Lancaster put in from just behind Fiona, proving that her eavesdropping skills were quite advanced. “There’s another waltz.”
Fiona turned to Lord Gregory with an apologetic smile. “I hope you don’t mind delaying our dance. I seem to have forgotten that I promised this one to my guardian.”
Tobias flinched inwardly, wishing she hadn’t called him that. He didn’t need any further reminders that he should not be doing what he was about to do.
“Of course, I don’t mind. Now I have something splendid to look forward to.” Lord Gregory stepped to the side.
Fiona took Tobias’s arm. As they walked toward the dance floor, she looked at him askance, her expression dubious. “Did your grandmother put you up to this?”
Chapter 19
Fiona’s question made Tobias stop, but only for the barest second because the music was starting. He swept her into his arms just as the waltz began.
It was heavenly. The sparkling candlelight reflected by the glass chandeliers and the mirrors. The blur of color as they swirled around the dancefloor. The lush notes of the music rising in the air and propelling the dancers.
“We’ve never had music before,” she said, her eyes locked with his. He looked splendid this evening in a black coat and silver-threaded waistcoat. When she’d imagined her guardian on her journey from Shropshire, she’d never envisioned a handsome man who made her pulse race.
“Not true. I hummed the first time.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “On second thought, I believe we determined that didn’t qualify as music.”
She very much appreciated his ability to laugh at himself. “Perhaps with practice, you will gain the skill as I did with curtseying. After the queen’s drawing room debacle.”
“I doubt that,” he said wryly. “But I’m willing to try, and you can tell me if I’m successful. Now, why did you mention my grandmother? And tell me about your interview with her.”
“It was…enlightening,” Fiona borrowed the dowager’s word. “I see where your father might have inherited his autocratic tendencies.”
“Oh dear, what did she say?”
“She went on quite a bit about matchmaking and the importance of it. She’s considering becoming my sponsor in place of Lady Pickering.”
Tobias wrinkled his nose. “That will not go well. The only woman who is perhaps more formidable than my grandmother, at least in my experience, is Lady Pickering.”
“I have a hard time imagining that. Lady Pickering is so pleasant.” Fiona liked her very much. “Not to say your grandmother is not,” she hastily added.
Tobias laughed softly, a dark, throaty sound that never failed to make her want to smile in return. “I don’t mind admitting she can be rather intimidating on occasion. I was shocked when she arrived earlier today. I was not expecting her.”
“That’s the impression I had from Carrin.”
Tobias pressed his palm more firmly against her back, and it was hard not to recall his touch upon her the night before. She tried not to shiver and failed. His pupils darkened, and she knew he’d felt it. “Tell me why you think my grandmother provoked me to dance with you.”
“It wasn’t about you. She was not in favor of Lord Gregory’s courtship. I wondered if she asked you to prevent me from spending time with him. It seemed a logical conclusion since you’ve never asked me to dance before.” He had though. “At least not in public.” She ought to look away from him because the intensity of his gaze was making it hard for her to focus on the waltz.
She did not.
“What is her quarrel with Lord Gregory?” Tobias seemed to hold his breath a moment.
“She never actually said, only that I could do better. She did, however, say quite plainly that she was not in favor of the match. I still don’t understand.” Fiona frowned. “Lord Gregory comes from an excellent family, and he’s a very kind and interesting person.”
“To you, he’s a good match.” Tobias broke eye contact, and she suddenly felt off-kilter. She clasped his hand and shoulder more tightly. “If you think you’d be happy with him, you should marry him.” Tobias sounded strained, as if he struggled to force the words out. Was he upset?
Why shouldn’t he be? He’d proposed marriage to her last night, and she’d refused him. Just as Lady Bentley had done two years before. Even worse, now he was also facing the loss of something he deeply cherished.
Her chest squeezed as she thought of how he must be feeling. Yet here he was at this assembly, and in what seemed to be a good mood. She wondered if there was a reason for it. “I saw Miss Goodfellow a short while ago. I’m surprised you didn’t waltz with her.”
His gaze found hers once more, and there was a warmth to the pewter depths that made her heart beat a little faster. “I have no intention of dancing with Miss Goodfellow or anyone else this evening. I came tonight to see you enjoy this ball that you’ve been so looking forward to, and to tell you I’m not getting married before the twelfth. Horethorne will be yours.”
She missed her step, but he held her fast, keeping them from faltering as he continued to steer them behind the couple in front of them. Had she heard him right? She can’t have. “You’re giving up?”
“Not at all. I’m choosing not to allow my father’s control to guide me. I was approaching marriage the way he wanted me to—as a business arrangement—instead of the way I wanted to.”
Her breath tangled in her throat. “And what way is that?”
“With love and hope for a happy union. With the woman of my dreams.”
The ache in her chest grew more pronounced. “Oh, Tobias. That’s lovely.”
His nostrils flared and his lips parted. “You shouldn’t call me that in the middle of the ballroom, particularly after you declined my marriage proposal.” Though his body tensed, he said the words with
