“Yes, it seems so. No wonder they were dear friends,” she said with a shake of her head. “My mother was caring, but she was also distracted. She was never quite…content. I’m not sure how to describe it. She always made sure our home was warm and comfortable and that I was happy. When I think back, it seems she didn’t have much of a life of her own and that makes me a bit sad.”

Tobias’s heart went out to her. He’d hate to think of his mother not having her own life. She’d had Horethorne and him, and that had truly seemed to bring her an excess of satisfaction and joy. “I should think so.”

“I suppose that’s why I’m so very grateful for this opportunity you’ve given me—the ability to see things I never would have. To experience an adventure.” Her mouth quirked into a brief, wide smile. “That’s what the queen said to me today.”

Tobias leaned forward. “I’d meant to ask you what she said when she asked you to approach. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to share.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t mind. She said this was the adventure of a lifetime and that I should enjoy it. I felt such relief when she said that. I’d begun to despair that a London Season is really no more than a business transaction. A young lady receives clothing and experiences, and in return, she must marry to the best of her ability.”

The uncomfortable truth of her assessment pierced straight into Tobias, making him shift in his seat. “I suppose it really is just that,” he said a bit hesitantly, as if not agreeing with her would make it less true.

Her gaze met his, and she didn’t blink. “As I told you, I don’t wish to marry, at least not right now. However, I also don’t want to return to Bitterley. I fear my life might turn out like my mother’s.”

Another direct hit. Tobias pressed back against the chair and scrubbed his forehead. It occurred to him that he was forcing something upon her that she didn’t want, not now anyway. He was no better than his father. Damn if that didn’t sting worse than anything she’d said to him.

Before he could come up with a thing to say, she continued. “I will wed, however. Because I don’t want to return to Bitterley. All I’m asking for is some time to enjoy the Season and my, er, freedom. It is my hope that in time I will meet someone with whom I will suit.”

How could he argue with such a sensible plan? “You must forgive me, Miss Wingate. I fear I’ve been rather wrapped up in my own problems, and I failed to recognize what a drastic change this is for you. Yes, please take time to adjust. I was actually thinking that you might benefit from a respite from the demands of the Season. We have the ball tomorrow night, but after that, we’ll decline your invitations for the next week or two so you may become more comfortable.”