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Francie nodded eagerly and threw her a grateful glance, and assisted her husband to the sofa in the left corner, strategically away from her brother. Still ignoring Mr. Browning, Tobias walked up to the couple and caught his sister in a warm embrace, and Francie promptly burst into loud sobs.
“F-forgive me,” she gulped.
He closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of her head, stroking her back in soothing motions. “Wipe your tears, I do not like them,” he said gruffly. It was then Livvie saw the love and concern.
Francie gripped the back of his coat in a tight fist. “I never meant to disappoint you, Tobias. The scandal will be horrendous, I—”
“Let me worry about the scandal. Now dry your tears,” he ordered.
With a sniffle, Francie swiped at her cheeks. “I love him, Tobias, and he truly loves me.”
He murmured something too low for Livvie to discern and Francie nodded before producing a watery smile. Mr. Browning looked on almost helplessly, clearly wanting to be the one to comfort his weeping wife. Tobias released her and then looked at Mr. Browning, who appeared most anxious.
“Retire with me to the library. We have much to discuss.”
“Tobias, please,” Francie rushed out. “We can all meet—”
He made a sharp, slicing sweep of his hand.
She faltered, squared her shoulders, setting her lips together mutinously. “I know you, brother. I want to be privy to all conversation in regard to me and my husband. I am no longer a child. Please, let us sit here,” she entreated.
“There are things best said with Mr. Browning alone.”
Her eyes flashed, and she fisted a hand on her hip. “I will not countenance it. I am determined to be a part of all discourse.”
Tobias strolled to stand by the window overlooking a small but charming garden. He seemed tensed. Livvie’s feelings of disaster increased.
Francie hurried over to her. “Thank you for coming, Livvie, though it was not necessary.”
Livvie hugged her. “I knew you would need me, think nothing of it.”
“Did you marry in a church?” Tobias asked without shifting from where he stood.
His sister frowned, and Mr. Browning tensed, anger and something elusive but somehow menacing shifted in the depth of his eyes. Something was wrong. Livvie tugged Francie over to the pale-yellow sofa and they lowered themselves onto the cushions.
“Answer me, Francie.”
“Lady Francie is my wife,” Mr. Browning blustered. “We have been alone for a day without a chaperon,” he ended a bit smugly.
“No, Tobias. I…it was over the anvil and our vows were performed by the village’s blacksmith. We planned to be married properly when we returned to England, with your blessing, then we had the carriage accident.”
“Accident?”
“We lost a wheel on the way to Rose Cottage and Jasper was injured.”
“I love Francie, and she is my wife. Nothing you can say will rip us apart,” Mr. Browning said defiantly.
“Is she?” Tobias murmured coolly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Yes!”
“Yet you will relinquish your claim and never breathe a word as to how you spent the last twenty-four hours.”
“You cannot—”
“Or I will see you hanged,” Tobias incised ruthlessly.
Francie gasped and surged to her feet. “Tobias!”
