Only Tobias couldn’t move. His feet were rooted to the floor and his gaze was fixed on Fiona. And Lord Gregory.

A moment later, he felt a tug on his sleeve. “Come on.”

Tobias didn’t look at Wexford. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Fiona as she laughed at something Lord Gregory said. Tobias’s body went completely rigid as Fiona touched Lord Gregory’s arm.

He finally turned away. “I can’t do it. Yes, I’m a pathetic coward. I had my heart broken once before, and since Fiona has already rejected me, I should expect failure again.”

Lucien scoffed. “Priscilla didn’t break your heart. You said so yourself at the time.”

“Well, it bloody well felt like it. I was humiliated.” Not because she’d chosen someone else over him and everyone knew it, but because he should have known better. He should have realized there was nothing really between them, that Priscilla had only taken their courtship as seriously as her father told her to. And once someone with a higher rank came forward, that was not at all.

What if Tobias had this wrong too? What if the things he imagined Fiona felt for him were only in his mind? “This is different,” he whispered, staring at the painting hanging on the wall opposite but not seeing any of its detail. “I don’t think I can survive a rejection from Fiona.”

“Christ, you’re being melodramatic.” Lucien gave him a gentle shove. “You’d rather let Lord Gregory do his worst and not even try?”

“Come on, Deane, if you love her, she’s worth the risk. And the pain, if it comes to that.” Wexford thumped him on the back. “I wager it’ll hurt even worse if you don’t fight for her.”

They were right. They were more than right. This was nothing like Priscilla because Fiona was, well, Fiona. He knew precisely who she was, and more importantly, she did too. She wasn’t some social-climbing miss looking for the best marriage. In fact, she’d declared her intent not to do that. She was utterly unique, and he loved her unequivocally.

“So much for my attempts to stop being an ass,” he muttered. He started toward the door that led to the stairs. “Do either of you have any idea what set they’re on?”

Lucien consulted his watch fob. “If they are on schedule, they are likely in the second.”

Tobias practically ran down the stairs, which were thankfully not crowded. The hall below was, however, and getting into the ballroom took longer than he’d hoped. By the time he stepped inside, he feared the set would be drawing to a close.

Hurrying between people and ignoring those who tried to speak with him, he arrived at Fiona’s side, breathless, just as the music stopped. “Miss Wingate, it’s time for our dance.”

Fiona stared at him, clearly confused. And why wouldn’t she be? They’d made no plans for dancing or anything else.

“She’s already agreed to partner me,” Lord Gregory said affably.