It was as if simply by existing, he’d somehow derailed her thought processes.
That was the only explanation she could find for her meekly allowing him to follow her through the front door of Adrian Fellows’s house.
They paused in the hall to divest themselves of their coats and hats.
Adrian’s butler appeared to assist them.
Diana waved to their guest. “Huber, this is Mr. Cynster. He’s…” At a loss, she cast the distracting man an interrogatory glance. At that very moment, what hewaswas a complication she didn’t need.
He was taller than most men she knew, a full head taller than she. His shoulders were broad, and he walked with a long-limbed grace that screamed of athleticism and physical confidence. At a time when many men favored beards, he was clean-shaven, and if other men had the lines of face and chin he possessed, they would be clean-shaven, too.
The errant thought nearly made her blink as his hazel eyes—well set under a wide brow and framed by thick dark lashes—met hers, and for a fleeting instant, she feared he could read her mind.
Then he smiled disarmingly and turned the smile on Huber, the gesture holding just the right degree of somberness. “A friend of the late Herr Locke.”
Huber half bowed and readily took Cynster’s hat, cane, and coat.
Having already hung up her own jacket, Diana shook her skirts straight, noting that Bruno, the dog, was staring adoringly at Cynster. To date, Bruno had proved a sound judge of character. Inwardly, she frowned, although she couldn’t have said why. Surely, knowing Cynster passed Bruno’s assessment with flying colors should ease her mind.
Helga had organized the children and was herding them toward the kitchen and their supper.
The three threw smiles at Cynster, which he returned with a charming smile of his own, and even Helga, plainly finding Cynster’s presence reassuring and not in the least discombobulating, nodded politely.
Diana glanced at him warily. He seemed to disarm everyone by deploying some type of simple yet lethal charm. Even Huber was regarding him favorably.
In her few free moments since her father’s death, she’d wondered—idly—who Winchelsea would send, but at no point had her mind conjured anyone like Toby Cynster. That had to be the reason she felt so unexpectedly off balance.
Patently, he wasn’t amenable to being sent away, so what was she to do with him?
Obligingly, Huber volunteered, “The master is in the drawing room, miss.”
Of course!“Thank you, Huber.” She waved toward the open drawing room door and led the way.
Cynster followed, alert and assessing.
She wondered what he was thinking—what was going through his mind. Whatever his plans, she felt confident that Adrian would support her in explaining that she couldn’t leave Vienna just yet.
To Toby, she said, “When the dispatches came into Papa’s hands and he realized what they were, he discussed the matter with Adrian. It was Adrian who advised Papa about whom to contact.”
She swept into the drawing room and caught Adrian’s eye as, with a welcoming smile, he laid aside the newspaper he’d been reading.
With thinning reddish-brown hair and a pallid complexion, his features etched by long-term pain yet presently relaxed, Adrian was but a shadow of the robust man he once had been.
“Am I right in thinking we have a guest?” He looked hopeful. Since his illness had taken hold and his diagnosis had firmed, people rarely came to the house. Almost as if he were already dead.
She waved at Toby. “This is Toby Cynster. He’s the gentleman from London we were told to expect.”
“Cynster?” Adrian made the effort to rise from his chair; that he was able to do so indicated that today was one of his better days. His expression brightening as he took in his visitor, he held out his hand. “I knew Gregory and Nicholas at Oxford.”
Toby’s smile was genuine and wide as he shook Adrian’s hand. “I’m Nicholas’s younger brother.”
“Excellent! How are they both?” Adrian waved Toby to an armchair and resumed his own.
Diana sank onto the settee and listened, bemused, as the pair explored Cynster family news.
In the matter of the dispatches, other than herself, Adrian had been her father’s sole confidante and was fully conversant with the arrangements her father had made. Unsurprisingly, Adrian and Toby’s conversation eventually veered to that subject, with Adrian declaring that it was reassuring and no real surprise that Winchelsea had sent a Cynster to retrieve the documents and escort her father and her to safety.
Judging by Adrian’s tone, in his opinion, nothing could be better.
