Page 45 of The Best of Friends
“A great deal happened in the time leading up to and shortly after I was married, far too much to recount here, but fate intervened in some shocking and, at times, horrifying ways to make certain I did not lose my connection to my sister.”
“I would rather keep close to my sister without fate intervening in ‘horrifying ways.’”
Mr. Fortier nodded. “Understandably.”
“And if I could make my music profitable, I would have some additional freedom, which would help. But I don’t know how to make that happen.”
“I believe there is a Royal Society of Musicians,” Mr. Fortier said. “Their advice and knowledge and support would go a very long way.”
“There is,” Toss said. “I intended to apply for membership once I completed my education, but I wasn’t given the opportunity.”
“Not finishing your education would not automatically eliminate your chances of successfully applying to join,” Mr. Fortier said. “Many of the great composers did not have formal university training, just as many successful writers did not study the craft at any institution, yet literary societies are open to them.”
“You’re saying it would be worth trying?”
Mr. Fortier gave a quick and firm nod. “I struggled for quite a long time in my poetry. But twelve or so years ago, the Literary Society was founded here in London by William Wordsworth. I became one of the earliest members, and it has been invaluable. Seek out others of your profession. They will help you learn better your craft, help fill any gaps your untimely removal from Cambridge has left. They will help you discover how to make a success of your ambitions.”
This single conversation had done wonders for Toss’s peace of mind. He had direction and hope. “I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Fortier. This has been more helpful than I can say.”
Mr. Fortier shook Toss’s hand. “I’m pleased His Grace sent you my way. Please reach out again. I understand all too well the path you’re on. It’s one that is easier when walked in company.”
They both stood, Mr. Fortier looking elegantly subdued, precisely the sort of gentleman whose arrival made a person feel instantly more at ease.
“I would remain longer,” Mr. Fortier said, “but I am testifying at a trial this afternoon.”
“Mr. Finley’s inheritance trial?” Toss guessed, knowing that had consumed a great deal of interest in theton.
The Frenchman nodded. “The miserable wretch could have avoided all this if he had simply decided to be a decent person. But he crossed a line that Mr. Layton rightly found unforgivable and did so after more than sufficient warning. Now there will be no saving him from his own choices.”
Toss walked alongside Mr. Fortier to the front door of their club. “During our evening at Lord Aldric’s home, it was Lord Aldric I found the most intimidating. But I’m beginning to suspect the one whom I ought to be afraid of is Mr. Layton.” He made the observation laughingly.
But the look Mr. Fortier gave him was serious. “Many people have underestimated him to their cost.”
Mr. Fortier went his way, and Toss went the other. Toss had a great deal to think about. Among all of it was the realization that this group of older gentlemen, who had fashioned themselves the Gents, were not entirely unlike his group of friends. They, by all indication, were like brothers. They carried their own secrets and their own weights, yet they helped each other endure them. It was a comfort to one whose actual brother was causing so much misery.
And on the heels of that contemplation came thoughts of Daria. Lately, she was seldom out of his thoughts. And she was always intertwined in the beating of his heart. He’d liked her at the house party. He was in love with her now.
Dear, loving, delightful Daria. She had made this Season, which could have been an utterly miserable disaster, into something enjoyable and light and happy. She gave him reason to smile when the heaviness of life was threatening to crush him. She laughed with him, held his hand, defended him, and praised his music.
She saw him when he felt invisible.
Her family was threatening to send her away, to tear her away from the sources of joy and light in her life. No matter what became of the connection he felt to her, Toss knew one thing for certain: he meant to do all he could to ensure Mr. and Mrs. Mullins did not succeed in hurting her that way.
Chapter Seventeen
Toss left the club witha spring in his step that had been missing. He considered himself an optimistic and cheerful sort of person, not easily defeated by life’s difficulties. But he’d not realized until Mr. Fortier had given him back a bit of hope just how much he’d been struggling to feel that lately.
Not wanting to ruin the moment, he avoided Laurence’s home and made his way, instead, back to Falstone House. He hummed Daria’s tune all the way there, anxious to fully immerse himself in the budding composition and looking forward to telling her about his meeting and the hope he felt.
When he arrived at the door and knocked, he wasn’t even asked for a calling card. The butler simply showed him in and instructed him to see himself to the music room. With a continued bouncing step, Toss made his way there, grinning as he hadn’t in some time.
“Daria!” He was so happily shocked at seeing her in the room that all he could manage was her name.
She rushed to him, looking absolutely delighted, and took his hands, her deep brown eyes shimmering with excitement. “You will never guess!” she said with infectious enthusiasm.
“I suspect you’re right,” he said, “so I will forgo the guesses and simply tell you how anxious I am to hear whatever it is you’re excited to tell me.”
“That is because you are the very best of friends,” she said.
