“Maybe brawn does preclude brain after all.”
The hulking shadow led Tobias down a flight of stairs. “Insult me all you want. Just do not dishonor my sister.” He opened a door and slipped into a room with a crackling fire.
Tobias followed, warming himself by the flames. “I don’t dishonor her. I’d call out any man who did.”
Maggie’s brother sank into a nearby armchair. “What do you want from her then?”
“I thought we were having drinks.” He needed one, he found. He’d held heaven in his arms not ten minutes ago and now he faced the firing squad. He needed some fortification.
Stillman jerked his head toward a nearby cabinet.
When Tobias opened it, he found a cut glass bottle of amber liquid. He uncorked it and sniffed. “Scotch? Excellent.” He poured two fingers for himself into a tumbler and another two for the brother and handed it over. Stillman took it without comment.
“Most people say thank you when someone has done them something nice,” Tobias said, retaking his station by the fire.
“It’smyscotch.”
“It’s your father’s scotch.”
Stillman took a sip, settled his arm and the glass back on the arm rest. “Mine.”
“Alllllll right.” Stillman was a bit intimidating, and Tobias was not easily intimidated. “It’s yours, if it means that much to you.”
“Do you know what means the world to me,Mr.Blake?”
“Your scotch?”
“My sister. I’ve protected her since she was born, and I’ll protect her now.”
“Oh? It’s certainly taken you long enough to confront me.”
“I’ve been watching. To see if you’re a threat.”
“And am I?”
“I’m not certain.”
Tobias threw the liquid down his throat. It burned in the best way. “I’m not. The only reason I was in your sister’s room this evening was to offer her marriage.” That he’d also taken a kiss was neither here nor there.
“And how did she respond?” Stillman asked.
“Not well.”
Stillman plunked his glass onto a nearby table and leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands with a sigh.
“You’re not convinced it’s fate, are you? Like your parents?” Fate had nothing to do with it. Honor was all in all.
Stillman lifted his head. “Ha. No. My parents can be … impractical.”
“No!”
“Your sarcasm is not welcome here, Blake. I may criticize my parents, but you may not.”
Stillman had honor, too. Good. Tobias preferred dealings with honorable men.
“I retract my sarcasm,” Tobias said.
“What about you? Are you impractical?” Stillman eyed Tobias from head to toe.
