Page 18 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
Tobias obliged and carefully lifted his godson high up, feeling the delighted shrieks worm their way into his chest and settle there. He held both of the toddlers easily.
“Papa turn!” Felicity twisted in Tobias’s arms so suddenly that he almost lost his grip. “Papa!”
Tobias quickly put her on the ground, and David took advantage of his distraction and clambered onto his shoulders, tugging on his hair while he did.
“Oh, Davey. No, darling. You mustn’t pull Uncle Tobias’s hair. That is not very nice.” Adele shook her head at her son.
“Sowwy.” David released Tobias’s hair.
“That is all right, little one,” Tobias reassured him. “I know you did not mean to hurt me.”
“Papa, I birb!” Felicity cried out as she flailed her arms and wobbled on Warner’s shoulders.
Tobias heard Adele’s sharp intake of breath and realized that he had taken a step towards his cousin, ready to catch the child if she fell. His cousin murmured something to Felicity as she laughed, apparently unaware of how close she had come to disaster.
“Fliss, perhaps you should be a quiet bird? After all, Uncle Toby looks like he might want to tell us something.” Warner tilted his head ever so slightly towards Tobias and arched an eyebrow in question. “You said you had everything arranged?”
“The license for the wedding. I have obtained a special license so that we might get this over and done with as expeditiously as possible.”
“Just what a woman wants to hear from her future husband.” The scent of violets told Tobias exactly who it was before he had even turned to face her. “That he wants the wedding over and done with. Delightful.”
Rowen stood in the doorway of the drawing room, wearing a heavy traveling cloak. Her long hair fell across her shoulders, and her grey eyes flashed with barely contained fury. The smile on her face was so sharp it could have cut glass.
“Would you rather have had the banns read? I did not peg you as such a traditionalist.” Tobias’s voice was silky smooth, and he felt a thrill run through him.
“Tradition has very little to do with it, dear Tobias.” She said his name with venomous sweetness. “It would just be nice to have a say inourwedding.”
She tugged off her traveling gloves, revealing just a hint of pale skin.
Tobias felt a tug in his chest, his mouth suddenly turning dry. He shook his head slightly, eyes darting to Rowen’s face as he fixed an easy smile on his own.
“Aunty Row!” Felicity called out from behind him before he could say anything.
Tobias felt David shift on his shoulders and guessed that the toddler was waving at Rowen. Her face softened as soon as hereyes fell on the children, and it transformed her entirely. Where she had been all hard lines and cold fury before, she was now soft and sunny.
His breath hitched, and his heart leapt in his chest. Then, her gaze flicked to him once more and turned icy, although she quickly softened it.
A thrill went through him, and with a start, he realized he felt the same way he did before a big battle. The thrill, the danger.
He kept his expression neutral, even as he sensed a crease threatening to form on his brow. Rowen’s eyes did not leave his face for an instant.
Oh, there is fire in her.
He quashed the feeling, stamping on it like a bug. “The Archbishop is a busy man, Rowen, and I did not expect you to arrive before this evening. In any case, I assumed you would be tired from your travels.”
“How thoughtful.” Rowen’s tone made it clear that she felt the exact opposite. “And where are we to be married exactly, or do you wish for me to intuit that?”
She was trying to bait him, but he would not give in.
He gave her his most languid smile and shrugged, careful not to dislodge David. “St. Catherine’s. It is large enough to hold a goodnumber of people, and the journey is easy from here. And the priest has given us leave to use one of the rooms as acrèchefor the children.”
“I had rather hoped to be married elsewhere.”
“Then you should have let me know sooner.”
“I would have if you had bothered to ask. And are you planning on having us married at the crack of dawn?”
“Eleven o’clock, actually. This Saturday, to be precise.”
