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 wayhewanted me to—as a business arrangement—instead of the wayIwanted 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 a light humor that she suddenly realized was as much a part of what drew her to him as anything else—his generosity, his care, and so much more.
“Furthermore, I don’t deserve such familiarity from you when I seem to keep behaving like an ass. On that note, I’ve had a temporary bedchamber set up on the first floor in the antechamber off the drawing room for Mrs. Tucket. Now she will only need to bother with one set of stairs.”
“That’s incredibly thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
“I should have thought of it immediately.” He pressed his lips together and appeared disappointed—in himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Fiona moved her hand toward his neck, wishing she could wipe the lines in his features away. “It only matters that you did.” And he was also giving her his mother’s house. She knew that wasn’t precisely the case, but his actions, or inaction, made it seem like a gift.
They danced without speaking then, and Fiona was only aware of the way they moved together and the touch of his hands upon her. He smelled of sandalwood and…maps. Probably because she associated them with him now. He’d increased thequantity of them in his library so that she had yet to peruse them all.
“Are you going to take my grandmother’s advice?” he asked, startling her slightly but not breaking the spell between them.
“To be honest, I’m still trying to decide what to do. I have made one decision though.”
The music drew to a close, and the dance ended.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I need to settle Mrs. Tucket somewhere—either in Shropshire or at Horethorne. I plan to discuss it with her tomorrow.” She realized they were still standing on the dancefloor, their hands clasped, as if they would continue dancing if only the music would begin again.
Tobias seemed to recognize this too, for he released her, only to tuck her hand around his arm and lead her from the floor. “Has she expressed a desire to leave London?”
“Yes. The incident at the ball last Saturday was rather embarrassing for her.”
“I am sorry for that. Please let me know what I can do to help. Although, I am not sure your cousin would allow her to live on his estate. He was quite relieved that your invitation to London included your maid.”
Fiona had thought of that. It was another reason she was glad to have Horethorne. “Yes, that is a concern. Is there someplace she could retire on the estate? Just a small cottage would be acceptable.”
“I’m not certain, but Mr. Davies is the steward, and he can help you. He’s incredibly kind and knowledgeable.”
“You know him well?”
“My whole life.”
She couldn’t discount the sensation that this wasn’t right, that Horethorne should be his. They were heading toward thegarden, she realized. The doors were open, and the air in the ballroom was quite warm. “Are we going outside?”
He slowed. “Do you want to?”
Her eyes met his, and instead of answering, she continued through the open doorway out onto the terrace. Lanterns lit the walkways, and an oval pool in the center reflected the light. She’d somehow missed that aspect of the garden when she’d rushed inside with Mrs. Renshaw the week before.
“If there’s nowhere suitable for Mrs. Tucket at Horethorne, I will find a place for her at Deane Hall.”