34. Mr. Toad

MR. TOAD

H e ought to be relieved.

It was over. She wasn't his responsibility anymore.

Instead, he was irritated. And even long after Winterhope's parade of ostentatiousness drove away, that irritation only grew.

Back in his study, he read over the same inventory report three times without comprehending a single word.

She had thanked him in a cool voice, almost as though she was embarrassed to acknowledge him. " You must be happy to have successfully completed your mission," she had said.

And then she'd dropped into a sodding curtsey!

Who did she think he was?

Leopold dropped his head onto one hand, resting his elbow on the desk.

He hadn't done any better. The mere sight of her looking so… fucking lady-like…

Fuck.

Fuck! He slammed a hand on the desk. Fitz took that moment to knock and then opened the door without waiting for permission.

"Did you call for me, sir?" The smaller man didn't wait for an answer to that question either before he sauntered into the room and dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk.

The difference between Fitz and the prior occupant of that seat was almost laughable. And, given a choice, Leopold preferred to see Fitz there.

"Is everything all right, Boss?" When Fitz leaned forward, his spectacles slipped to the tip of his nose. He took a moment to shove them back into place.

"Is it ever?" Leopold answered, but then he shook his head. There was no point dancing around the subject; Fitz had always been able to see right through him. It was inconvenient at times, but also… grounding. "I got too close."

Fitz hesitated a few seconds. "You've never done that before."

"No." Leopold exhaled. "It was stupid of me."

"Perhaps…" But then Fitz paused with a wince, hesitant. It was unusual for him. "Perhaps getting close wasn't the stupid part."

‘'What the hell do you mean?" In Leopold's current mood, if it had been anyone but Fitz expressing this sort of opinion, Leopold would have planted them a facer.

Fitz was undeterred. Because… this was Fitz, after all. Unflappable, dependable Fitz.

"She loves you, you know. She didn't want to leave with them." He spoke with absolute certainty, as if these were obvious facts to be observed with ease. The sun rises each day. The earth sprouts new life in the spring. She loves you .

"I thought I was the one knocked on the head, Fitzy." Leopold barked out a short laugh. But then he couldn't help but ask, "Why would you think that?"

"Fanny was with her. After her ladyship walked in on Winterhope's lot. That mother of hers is a bitch, and the maid is a battleaxe. Fanny said the light went out of your Lady Amelia like a snuffed candle. She seemed a living ghost, doing as they said, dressing in those clothes."

Leopold didn't like hearing that. Because Amelia was a light all on her own. Why would she surrender like that? The Amelia he'd come to know was a fighter.

"Who was that, then? The woman who drove away with them? Who thanked me as if I'd merely delivered her a meal, and not housed and protected her for days?"

Not to mention…

Fitz shrugged. "I think… it was a woman who'd just found out her father might be dead. It was a woman who'd learned she'd been lied to by the very man who may or may not be the reason I found this button in the cellar." Fitz placed a small button shaped like a flower on Leopold's desk. "She was reeling. And then that dragon rolled right over her."

Leopold scrubbed his hand up the back of his neck and then down his face, shaking his head. "She didn't look like she was reeling."

And she hadn't. She'd been poised, cool.

Aloof.

"She fucking curtsied to me, Fitz." Leopold groaned.

"And why would she do that?"

"I wish I knew." But the second the words left his mouth, his heart skipped a beat. What if she hadn't been mocking him? What if she'd been trying to tell him something?

He glanced up. "I'm no good for her," he said.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Boss. From what I saw, she was happy here. Reminded me of watching Little Finch walk out of Newgate."

Only Fitz would compare Lady Amelia Crowley with Little Finch, a pick-pocketing twelve-year-old without any teeth.

But he had a point.

Leopold rubbed his jaw and realized he'd gone a few days without bothering to shave again. An image of pale skin flashed before his eyes, just before he'd scraped his beard along her thigh. He imagined her fingertips cradling his face. And her eyes—an open book. She hadn't even tried to hide how much she wanted him.

But why the ice princess routine? Had it all been some game?

Despite doing his best to convince himself she'd been insincere, he couldn't quite believe it.

Amelia wasn't like that.

He was never one to embrace the idea of hope, let alone… love. Even just thinking the word made something shift in Leopold's chest. His lungs tightened, and he felt a squeezing in his heart.

Hadn't he, just earlier that day, allowed himself to imagine a future with her?

"I fucking love her, Fitz," Leopold confessed. He loved her bravery, her creativity, and her refreshing honesty. He loved the woman inside the lady. And he wanted to know everything about her. But there hadn't been enough time.

"Did you tell her?"

"Of course not." He'd just realized it himself . Furthermore, "I don't want to ruin her life. I can't do that to her. She'll regret it. She'll regret me."

"And how do you know that? You know what she wants?"

"God, I hate it when you play devil's advocate." But there was more shifting. In taking Amelia forcibly from her father, Leopold had been careful to allow her as much freedom as he could. With what she ate. With what she wore… And he'd wanted her to be able to explore.

He wanted to show her the world and let her decide the places she liked.

But… then he'd handed her over to Winterhope, and all her choices had been taken away.

Fitz rose from his seat. "If you didn't need me for anything, I've some letters to write." But then he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew something…

"Fanny gave this to me." He tossed the plump creature made of yarn onto Leopold's desk. She'd used three different colors of green and sewn buttons on for eyes. "Lady Amelia left it for you."

Mr. Toad.

"It's the only way I can show them that I care."

Whereas he might once have believed the toy was a mocking sort of pity, he knew better now.

If that wasn't a sign, Leopold didn't know what was.

"Have mounts readied for us, Fitz. You and I are going for a ride."

"Where to, Boss?" But Leopold's old friend had a twinkle in his eye.

"I think you know, Fitzy. I think you know."

"The Goat's Tail, I presume?"

For the first time in hours, Leopold felt himself again. Even if, ultimately, he wasn't in control of the outcome. And this time, rather than presume to know the lady's mind, he'd do what he should have done all along.

Present her with a choice.