Page 30 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
Rowen felt a prickle at the nape of her neck at Tobias’s words, but when she turned to face him, he was staring at the painting.
“I have never understood why men value youth so much. I like a woman with a little experience.”
He turned to face her, his usual smirk on his face. Rowen felt color spread across her cheeks, but she refused to back away.
“Who can say why men want what they want? My mother would say they crave only novelty, and youth is nothing if not novel.”
The image of her mother’s bitter smile swam into her mind, and she pushed it aside.
Silence filled the space between them, punctuated by the crackle of the fire.
Rowen ran her thumb across the pads of her fingers and asked, “Have you heard anything more about… about the wreck?”
Tobias’s shoulders tensed. “Very little. I have heard that some men were washed ashore, but no one matching your brother’s description, and definitely no one in clothes befitting someone of his station. Some parts of the ship have been found, but…” he trailed off.
Rowen nodded, her heart sinking.
He is dead, and I must let him go.
“Have you begun making the arrangements for a funeral? Or a memorial?”
“Not yet. Your parents have not yet made an announcement on his fate, and I suspect they are waiting for official documentation before they do. However, once it has been made, I will arrange everything.”
His voice was dispassionate, but Rowen thought she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw.
“Would you… Do you think we could do it in London? I would like to be able to bid him farewell in some way, even if we do not have a body to bury.” She watched as he turned to face her, his expression thoughtful. “My parents may not agree, of course, but journeying to their estate would be a nightmare.”
“Leave the Duke and Duchess to me.” Tobias’s voice was hard like steel. “I think having the service in London is an excellent idea. Jenkins loved the city, and there is nothing to stop us from having a memorial for him here and at the estate. Besides, it will be easier for you to visit and pay your respects if there is something in London.”
“Thank you.” Rowen realized she had been reaching for his arm and hastily dropped her hand, curling her fingers into the fabric of her dress. “I shall have to commission new mourning clothes. I would not want to wear the ones I did after my first husband died.”
She waited for his jaw to tense, for him to round on her and tell her that this was the final straw, that it was one expense too many. Instead, he simply nodded.
“It is the advantage of being a man. Mourning attire is rather simpler now that Beau Brummel dictates our fashion. I need to simply add an armband.” He gestured to a spot on his upper arm.
Rowen could not help but notice how tight his shirt was around his muscles. Her mouth went dry, and it made her next words sound more breathless than she would have liked.
“How fortunate for you. I know it confuses the twins to no end. They cannot understand why men must dress so drably when women get to wear pretty colors.”
“To be frank, I agree with them. It does get rather tiresome to be surrounded by a sea of grey and black all day.” Tobias gave a dry chuckle.
“You could always buck the trend and wear something more flamboyant,” Rowen teased. “I think you would look rather fetching in purple.”
“And what other colors have you been imagining me in?” Tobias’s voice was silky, his green eyes dancing as he looked at her.
“Bold of you to think I have been imagining you at all.” Rowen rolled her eyes. “It feels rather strange to talk about mourning James when we do not even know what has happened to him. There is every chance we will not even have a body to bury. Did he mention where he wanted to be laid to rest?”
“No, simply the manner in which he wished to be buried. And his request for a wake fit for a rake—his exact words.” Tobias shook his head. “Though you need not worry, Rowen. I will not indulge in such behavior. I am a married man, after all.”
“You did not promise me fidelity.” She meant the words to sound teasing, but they came out more earnest.
“But I did vow to protect you, and I meant it. I will not harm your reputation like that.” His face was serious. “And I am sure James would forgive me that. Besides, I can still get fantastically drunk on scotch for him.”
“So long as you do not expect me to deal with your hangover, you may do what you like.” Rowen made a dismissive gesture. “Though I assume you plan to do the drinking after the formalities have concluded.”
“Obviously. I have no desire to deliver a eulogy while drunk.” He gave her a sidelong look. “You would be welcome to join the festivities, of course, though you may learn more intimate details about your brother than you wish.”
“As much as I wish to know more about him, I have limits. Though I would like to at least have a drink in his honor. I do love a good scotch,” Rowen admitted.
