He’d thought of Miss Wingate’s topple countless times. She’d seemed mortified, but by the time they’d reached the coach afterward, she was already laughing about it. He admired her sense of humor and ability to not take things—or herself—too seriously. It was a good reminder, for life with Tobias’s father had been nothing but serious.
Probably because the former earl had spent the bulk of his time immersed in his duties in the Lords. Tobias was finding it interesting so far, but he didn’t see himself becoming consumed by any of it. For better or worse, he enjoyed taking time for amusement and relaxation, which was why he’d go to the club tonight.
A gentle knock on the half-open door to his study caused him to look up.
Miss Wingate peeked her head past the edge of the door. “Am I troubling you?”
“Not at all, come in.” He stood from the desk and went to the hearth where a cheerful fire burned. “Shall we sit?”
“Oh, certainly, thank you.” She seemed mildly surprised.
“You look far more comfortable than earlier.” He hadn’t seen her since they’d returned from the drawing room. He’d taken dinner at Brooks’s with a few other gentlemen from one of his committees.
She glanced down, her hand smoothing over the spring-green skirt of her gown. “A thousand times more comfortable, yes.” She laughed softly before sitting in one of the armed chairs situated near the hearth. “It’s a shame to spend all that money on the court dress only to never wear it again.”
Tobias sat in the other chair opposite hers. “Unless you go to court again.”
Letting out a stark laugh, she shook her head. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Someday you may need to present your daughter.”
“I doubt that, but if that comes to pass, I shall hope the costume will have evolved into something far less dangerous.”
“You can at least wear the headdress again this Season,” Tobias noted. Or so Lady Pickering had indicated.
“Yes, I’m to remove one feather so it’s slightly different. I’m glad for that economy at least.” She straightened and again smoothed her hand over the skirt of her gown, skimming her lap.
Tobias hadn’t ever noted how long and slender her fingers were. “Did you ever play the pianoforte?”
“No, we didn’t have one.”
“Would you like to learn?”
She blinked at him. “I never considered it.”
“There isn’t one here, but I could have one brought from Deane Hall if that would please you.”
“Perhaps I ought to try playing one before you go to the trouble.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll ask Lady Pickering if she has one.”
Miss Wingate nodded. “I wanted to thank you for the book on Ptolemy. I’ve only just started it, but I’m already fascinated.”
Tobias grinned, glad she was finding it interesting. “Wonderful. I look forward to discussing it with you.” He thought of Lord Gregory and how they would likely suit. Then she’d discuss Ptolemy with him. For some reason, Tobias found that mildly disappointing.
“I would like that.” She fidgeted with her gown, her fingers pinching the fabric on the side of her knee. “I wondered if I might, ah, ask you about an allowance.”
Surprised by her question, Tobias didn’t immediately respond. He supposed he should have thought of that. “Is this so you can make your own wagers?”
Miss Wingate’s eyes widened briefly, and dots of pink appeared in her cheeks. “No. I mean, perhaps. Don’t young ladies receive allowances?”
He’d meant it in jest, but since they’d argued about it, he realized he perhaps should not have. “Pin money, yes. I will determine a fair amount and see that you receive it tomorrow.”
She smiled as her shoulders dipped with relief. “I deeply appreciate your generosity. Truly.”
“It was my father’s intent that you enjoy the best Season possible. And that you marry well, of course.”
“I will always wonder as to the source of your father’s largesse. My impression from you is that he was not a kind man.”