Maggie whipped toward him, her heart stuttering in her chest. “What doyouthink art is for?”
Tobias shrugged and turned his head slowly, surveying the room, as if he couldn’t be bothered to give the question much of his attention. But his jaw twitched. A sign of thought? “To delight. To entertain, of course.”
Maggie’s shoulders sagged. She’d thought for one brief moment he’d be more than she expected, say more than the usual silliness. Why did men always disappoint her?
Lockham lifted his glass of wine in salute to Tobias. “You’ve more the right of it than little Lady Magnificent, Mr. Blake. Perhaps you can talk sense into the girl.”
Tobias took a step then lurched forward with a cry as he tripped on—Maggie looked at the floor—something invisible. The wine in both glasses he held flew into the air as he slammed into Lockham’s body. Lockham’s wine sailed skyward, too. And all of it rained down squarely on Lockham’s shoulders.
Maggie gasped and helped Tobias right himself. She took the two now-empty wine glasses from his hands. “What in heaven’s name happened?”
He straightened his coat and cravat, inspecting his chest and legs and arms. “Must have tripped. I can be horribly clumsy. Looks likeI’mwine free. Imagine that. Are you dry, Lady Maggie?”
“Yes.”
Tobias’s lip curled into a wicked grin before his lips flattened out in a look of concern. He raised his eyes to Lockham. “And you Lockham? Oh dear. It appears you’ve not been so lucky.”
Lockham’s previously buff trousers clung to his legs, newly dyed in what could only be described as merlot red, the same color drenching his previously stark-white shirt and cravat.
Maggie closed her eyes and swallowed before meeting Lockham’s gaze.
His eyes burned like the fires of hell in one of William Blake’s colored etchings. She would not look away.She’ddone nothing wrong.
“Blake,” Lockham grit the name between his teeth. His shoulders shook. “You buffoon!” His roar silenced the rest of the room. All heads snapped toward them.
“Sorry ’bout that, Lockham. I’ll replace the clothes, old man. Your waistcoats are right boring anyway. You’re in need of an update.”
Lockham grabbed Tobias’s cravat and yanked their faces close. “I’m going to—”
“Mr. Lockham!” Maggie’s mother sailed into the center of the conflict, separating the two men. “What tragedy has befallen you?” She touched the wine stains gingerly.
Lockham stabbed a finger in Tobias’s direction. “That fool spilled three glasses of wine on me. Three!”
Maggie’s mother swirled around. “Oh, Mr. Blake, what mistakes have befallen you?!”
Maggie sighed. “Mother, please—”
Her mother swirled around once more. “Look at Mr. Blake’s countenance, Robert! See his sorrow! He did not mean to.” She contemplated Tobias over her shoulder. “You are regretful, are you not?”
Tobias covered his heart with both hands and pulled his mouth into a deeply mournful frown. “More than words can express, Lady Waneborough.”
“See. Come along, Robert.” She took Lockham’s arm and pulled him toward the door. “You must change, and I’ll have cook concoct a potion that will remove these stains.”
“They’re ruined. I’ll simply discard them,” he grumbled like a disappointed schoolboy while following his hostess.
Tobias grinned, waved.
Maggie set the empty wine glasses on a nearby table and crossed her arms over her chest. “You did that on purpose, you cad.”
“Me? On purpose? No!”
Maggie smiled. She couldn’t help it. “But why?”
Tobias shrugged. “I don’t like him. And I don’t like him calling you little.”
“But I am little.”
“And I don’t like him using your full name.”
