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“Thank you, Your Grace. You are most kind.” Avery’s unease seemed to melt away, and she gifted Tobias a rare smile as the duchess led her to a sage-green velvet settee.

A silver tea service, four rose-covered china teacups and saucers edged in gold, and three full plates of dainties and pastries had been artfully arranged on the low mahogany tea table.

“You must call me Justina, and I shall call you Avery. Such a lovely name. Our given names quite set apart from all of the Marys, Elizabeths, Janes, and Anns, do they not?”

“Indeed, Your Grace,” Avery readily agreed.

Tobias could’ve hugged the duchess for turning Avery’s unusual name into something to be admired rather than scorned or cause embarrassment.

“I have already determined that my daughters, should I be blessed with any, shall have original names.” Her grace lifted the teapot with practiced ease. “Let’s have a cup of tea and discuss what would make an ideal Season for you, Miss Levingtone. I’m sure you have many ideas. I think it best to consider the debutante’s preferences whenever possible.”

Very clever of the duchess to make it perfectly clear Avery’s Come Out was about her and not what others wished to impose upon her.

Mrs. Grenville approached, her earlier irritation with Tobias masked by her usual, pleasantly benign expression. “Your Grace.”

The slightly husky edge to her voice was at odds with her poised perfection.

She dipped a shallow curtsy, and Tobias answered with another brief bow.

A slight flush mounted her smooth, sloping cheeks.

Perhaps she wasn’t as impervious to him as she pretended.

She’d restyled her hair and left a few longer curls to frame her face, and one longer curl teased her shoulder. Pearl earrings hung from her dainty earlobes, and a single strand of pearls encircled her neck.

Classical and refined, not garish and overstated.

Her jewelry was a reflection of her.

Mrs. Grenville—Emily—for Tobias could call her Emily in his thoughts, could he not? wore no gloves. Not for the first time, he noted the absence of a wedding ring or any indication she’d worn a ring recently.

Wouldn’t she yet wear her late husband’s ring if she still grieved the man?

“Shall we join our nieces, Your Grace, or would you prefer a more private discussion?”

Her gaze strayed to a pair of chairs situated before another window that would afford them a degree of privacy yet still remain respectable.

As much as Tobias was tempted to snatch a few moments alone with Emily, this was not the time. Besides, alone was an exaggeration with their nieces only a few feet away. They’d have plenty of opportunities for confidential tête-á-têtes over the coming weeks.

His heart knocked against his breastbone in anticipation.

“I think we must join them,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t reveal his reluctance. “I don’t want Avery to feel left out of any decision-making.”

“Quite right.” Approval flickered in Emily’s eyes, and she offered him a genuine smile.

“As ye may have gathered, she’s not altogether keen on having a Season,” he said.

“That can change.” Emily angled as if to join the other women.

“I would beg a moment, please, Mrs. Grenville.”

After a swift glance toward Avery and the duchess absorbed in conversation, she met his eyes, a question in hers. “Yes?”

How Tobias longed to take her delicate hands in his, to brush his lips across the back. But he must tread carefully this go-round. He’d been too bold, too confident in his approach before.

Emily was as skittish as a wild mare, and he’d frightened her. Yes, subtlety was a much better strategy if he wanted to gain her trust and friendship. Hopefully something more too.

But for now, he’d honor her request to keep their relationship unromantic. Once Avery had been launched into Society, however…