Page 34 of The Best of Friends
And it was a decidedly good thing Daria had not been forced to spend any time with Laurence. From all Toss had heard of Daria’s father, Toss felt certain that man was the reason she had such doubts about herself. Toss wasn’t in a position to defend her against her father, but he would do all he could to protect her from the unkindness she would likely receive from Laurence.
Which brought him back to his future resting in Laurence’s hands. Toss wasn’t excited about a match being chosen for him, but he would be heartsick if he was the reason Daria had to endure a lifetime of mistreatment from Laurence.
He realized he was making an enormous leap from having begun to fall in love with her to contemplating the complexity of a marriage between them. He didn’t know if his feelings for her were deep and full enough to sustain them for a lifetime. And all she had revealed of her feelings for him did not go beyond friendship. But with his future so fully in his brother’s control, even the first inklings of love were doomed. He needed to remember that before he broke his own heart or led Daria to believe things that could never prove to be true.
He was determined to be kinder to her than life was being to him.
Somehow, in the midst of his mental wanderings, his feet had brought him to Falstone House, where Charlie would be. They’d landed themselves in an endless chain of trouble during their years at Cambridge and Eton, yet there were few people Toss depended on more, few people he trusted as fully.
And Charlie once more proved himself as loyal and reliable and good a friend as a man grieving a pianoforte and needing to keep his distance from his own heart could hope for. Well, he proved at home at least, which was a very good start.
Toss was ushered into the elegant book room, where Charlie sat at a table, bent over a stack of very academic books and papers. He looked up as Toss crossed toward him.
“You look about as cheerful as a graveyard in a downpour,” Charlie said.
Toss shrugged. “Danced a jig on the way over. Sorry you missed it.”
“Have you come to sort out my latest theory to present to the Royal Society?” Charlie motioned at the stack of books and papers on the table in front of him.
“I’ll write your ‘Euclid was wrong about geometry type things’ paper if you’ll write out the notations for the tune I can’t get out of my head and slip a copy to the Royal Society of Musicians, which I still insist is the apex of Royal Societies.”
“Two difficulties with that approach, my friend. Firstly:myRoyal Society is decidedly superior toyours.”
“It’s not mine.” Toss didn’t like the plaintive quality that filled his words as he made that observation.
“It will be.” Charlie offered that prediction with the unwavering faith Toss had come to rely on from him. “The other shortcoming in your plan is that were I to take charge of the notations for any tune, the result would be utterly atrocious.”
“And what about my efforts to summarize your mathematical theories?” Toss appreciated the ridiculousness of the exchange; it was helping calm his mind.
“That doesn’t bear scrutiny, I’m afraid. You’d muddle the whole thing.” Charlie leaned back in his chair, a laughing smile on his face. “If you weren’t motivated to visit me by a deep love of mathematics, you must’ve come because you missed me so much.”
“Hardly.” Toss felt a little less like pummeling someone, which he thought was a good sign. “I came to ask if your brother- and sister-in-law would mind if I spent the morning playing their pianoforte.”
“Did your brother start bullyragging you early today?”
Toss shook his head. “He finally abandoned his efforts at harassing me into giving up my music. Instead, he took it away.”
Charlie focused more closely on him. “What do you mean?”
“He sold the pianoforte.”
Charlie’s mouth dropped open the tiniest bit.
“While I was on all those ridiculous errands for him yesterday, he had the instrument removed from the house and taken wherever he’d arranged for it to go. And I have my suspicions he has sent instructions to the country house to have that pianoforte disposed of as well.”
“Have you ever noticed that your brother is a shabby dunghill of a fellow?”
“I have, strangely enough.” He could actually laugh at that.
“Help me gather up all this.” Charlie stood. “We’ll wander over to the music room.”
“You don’t have to interrupt your work for this.”
Charlie shook his head. “Artie hums a lot, sings to herself sometimes. I’ve discovered I actually focus better when the room isn’t completely silent.”
Toss carefully stacked the various piles of papers into one. “If you’d like, I can play very loudly.”
“Only if you promise to also play very well.” Charlie carried the books, while Toss carried the papers.
