Timothy joined them at the window. “Maybe she’ll marry. She’s pretty. I’d marry her if I were old enough.”
“No you would not.” Remmy slammed his stick down on the billiards’s table. “I’m done.”
Both brothers stared at him as if he’d put his head there instead.
Timothy shrugged. “I’ve already won, anyway. Not that either of you noticed.”
Remmy made for the door.
“Brother,” Kit called after him, “do you happen to know how many marriage proposals Tessa has turned down in the last six years?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I assume there have been none since that curate.”
Kit shrugged. “Leave her alone, please. If you are right, and she’s only received one proposal, she may soon receive her second.”
Remmy tore out of the room and down the corridor, then the stairs. Once outside, he blinked in the blinding summer light. Where was she? He needed to see the sort of man Tessa King could fall for.
Her voice rolled toward him on the wind. Near the rosebushes. He could just see her and the man over abox hedge. They faced one another as the man pulled a small knife from a pocket and unfolded it. He cut a rose from a branch then used the blade to strip it of its thorns. He handed it to her.
And she accepted, her agile fingers twirling the flower.
“It’s perfect,” the man said, “like we will be.” He was dressed immaculately if plainly, and in his shirtsleeves, messy cravat, and waistcoat, Remmy felt rumpled in comparison.
Tessa looked up at the man but kept her expression guarded. “Perfect is not always desirable.”
“There we disagree, Miss King,” the man said. “But small disagreements will add… spice to our arrangement. Do not you think?”
Remmy picked up his pace. “Tessa! There you are!”
The man looked up. If he was surprised at the interruption, it did not show. Tessa, however, dropped the rose, her eyes wide with shock.
Remmy picked it up and handed it back. “I was hoping you might have a moment to speak with me.”
He’d never seen such wariness in her eyes, not while looking at him. She took the rose carefully, too, as if afraid he’d maul her. And considering their previous interaction, she had every right to caution.
“Do you mind, Mr. Tilbury?” she asked.
“Not at all.” He bowed to Tessa, nodded at Remmy, then ambled off. So bloody amenable.
And the air between them so thick and awkward as she clasped her hands before her and fixed her gaze on some point behind his left shoulder.
“What is it you wish to speak of?” Smile bright, voice strong, but shoulders stiff, and her hazel eyes would not meet his.
“Kit says Lady Chattaway may soon wed, and she will no longer need a companion. Is he correct, or is it idle gossip?”
She exhaled, her shoulders loosening. “Yes, it’s true. LadyChattaway is marrying Lord Brawly. And I am in search of a new position.”
“My mother can help.”
“No.”
“She knows many ladies of the Ton, and?—”
“No. I… I am considering marriage.”
“Marriage?” He couldn’t hear himself speak over the buzzing in his ears.
“It has been suggested that I marry Tilbury instead of taking a new position. Forgive me. I should not bore you with my worries.”
