Tobias closed the door firmly and faced Barbara. “How in the bloody hell did you get in here? You aren’t a member, and neither is Aldington.”
“His brother is the owner, however,” Barbara said rather unhelpfully.
“You’re saying Lucien let him in?”
Barbara shrugged, her pearl earrings bobbing. “Aldington knew a door by which to get in, and he had a key to this room. We did not realize it would be occupied.” Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Fiona at length. “I should have expected you’d find someone younger to warm your bed. All that nonsense about improving your reputation and getting married. What a load of rubbish.”
“As it happens, he is getting married,” Fiona said as she finished with her corset. “To me.” Smiling pleasantly, she fetched her petticoat and drew it over her head.
Barbara turned her head toward Tobias, who was feeling rather proud of his betrothed. She didn’t seem the slightest bit ruffled by Barbara’s presence. But then she didn’t realize who Barbara was.
“Pity you’re getting dressed.” Barbara sauntered toward Fiona who’d donned the petticoat and was now reaching behind to her back to pull the drawstring to cinch it around her middle. “May I?”
“Thank you.” Fiona presented her back.
“I would’ve asked to join you,” Barbara purred. “I am quite expert at what Toby likes.”
Tobias had drawn on his waistcoat and stalked to Barbara. “Please take your hands from my betrothed.”
Fiona took a step and swung around toward Barbara. “You were his mistress?”
“Until very recently, yes.” Barbara folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “Until that chit—his ward—came to live with him.”
“Barba—”
“Oh, you mean me?” Fiona laughed, and Tobias had no idea if it was genuine or an act to beat Barbara at whatever game she was trying to play. She sent Tobias a warm smile. “How lovely that he stopped seeing you when I arrived.” Their eyes locked, and he marveled at her confidence and composure.
Fiona picked up her gown from the chair. “Now, you must excuse me, for I need to return to the ball.”
Barbara frowned at her, and Tobias prepared himself to jump to Fiona’s defense. “You can’t go like that,” Barbara said. “Your hair’s a fright. Let me help you.”
“Oh, would you?” Fiona asked brightly. “That would be wonderful.”
“Here, let’s get you dressed first.” Barbara took the gown and helped her into the garment. Then she situated it over Fiona’s undergarments and fastened the back.
Tobias stared at them, completely flabbergasted. “What is even happening right now?”
“Your former mistress is helping your betrothed.” Barbara shook her head. “I should think that would be obvious.”
“I fear I will never understand women,” he muttered as he buttoned his waistcoat, then went to sit and don his stockings and dancing slippers.
“There, I think that will do,” Barbara announced as she stepped back and surveyed Fiona’s repaired hair.
Fiona moved to the small mirror that hung over a dresser between the pair of windows that looked down to Ryder Street below. “Brilliant. I can’t thank you enough.” She patted the back of her head and turned from the glass, looking to Tobias in the chair. “I’ll see you downstairs later?”
Tobias stood and took her hand. “Good luck.” He kissed her knuckles, his body stirring as he wished to do much more. “I love you,” he whispered.
She smiled softly. “I love you too.” Leaning forward, she kissed him, her lips lingering on his for the barest moment before she drew back, her eyes sparkling. “See you later.”
Barbara handed Fiona her gloves. “Don’t forget these.” She smiled at her. “I apologize if I was rude at all. I was—am—quite fond of Toby. I’m glad to see he’s found someone who will make him happy.”
“I will work very hard to do so.” Fiona sent him a look of promise that sparked a heat inside Tobias that he knew would never diminish.
When she was gone, Tobias found his cravat and went to the glass, pulling the fabric around the collar of his shirt.
Barbara joined him. “Let me help you too.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Do you want to look as though you haphazardly repaired your costume, which will only contribute to your notoriety?”
He hated that she made sense. Dropping his hands to his sides, he surrendered to her ministrations. “Why were you here with Aldington?”
She arched a dark brow as her fingers worked beneath his chin. “I should think that would be obvious.”
“But how? He doesn’t consort with courtesans. He’s as staid as the bloody Archbishop of Canterbury.”
“Do you promise not to say anything?” She looked him in the eye, and he knew she wouldn’t reveal a thing if he didn’t.
“Yes. Explain.”
“Since you abandoned me”—she sniffed for some sort of dramatic effect—“I’ve attended a few Cyprian balls to find a new protector. As one in my position must do.”
Tobias felt bad about that, but Barbara had always said how much she enjoyed her work, especially when she could find a kind and generous benefactor such as him. “I believed I gave you enough of a settlement that you wouldn’t have to look for someone new right away. Or even this Season.”
“You did, but I am easily bored. And I believe you know that, unless you weren’t paying attention. Which I know can’t be true because you never bored me in the slightest.” She patted his lapels and stood back, surveying her work. “You’ll do.”
“Did you meet Aldington at a Cyprian ball?” Tobias was shocked to hear this. He couldn’t imagine Lucien’s brother would want to be recognized at such an event, and he surely would have been.
“A masquerade a few nights ago.” That made a bit of sense at least. “He very awkwardly approached me for a liaison—nothing permanent, at least not yet. He was extremely nervous. I had the impression he’d never negotiated with a courtesan before.”
“That would not surprise me.” Tobias
