Wicked in His Arms

by Stacy Reid

  The door closed with a slam and he repressed a sigh. His mother would not do anything to temper her wayward emotions.

  He faced her. “What of Lady Peabody?”

  His mother flushed. “She is my dear friend, and I have asked her to be as circumspect as possible. She has retired to her chamber, no doubt from the shock of witnessing such licentiousness.”

  Tobias smiled and he was aware of its unpleasant nature from his mother’s wince. “Lady Peabody will not open her mouth and breathe a word of what she believes she witnessed. If she makes any steps to ruin Olivia, I will ensure her husband will be closed to all investments from my circle.”

  He moved over to the mantle and poured brandy in a glass, which he consumed in three long swallows.

  His mother moved farther into the library, anger evident in her posture. “You go too far, Tobias. Such threats are not necessary.”

  “I haven’t even begun.”

  She dealt him a considering glance. “If you are going to extend your influence and squash all scandal, there is no need to insist on marrying Lady Olivia. You are a Blade, and she…she…” After a heavy sigh she said, “You are ill suited. She is inferior in wealth and connection. She is too opinionated and rebels against my directions in how a young lady’s carriage and elegance ought—”

  “Mother?”

  Anger flushed her cheeks at being interrupted, but thankfully she did not release her vitriol. “Yes, my dear?”

  “I will marry her.”

  She frowned. “No one knows, Tobias, you do not need to be honorable,” she said in a long-suffering manner. “You have proven you can walk away from gossip unscathed and society will still love you. Surely we can successfully deflect—”

  “No.” Never would he have imagined weeks ago that he would make an announcement that he had offered for Olivia’s hand, but he knew how far he had taken his madness. There was the possibility of a child…

  Christ.

  His mother’s hand fluttered to her throat. “But what of Lady Willa? She is perfect for you, Tobias.”

  “I have no interest in her. You like her because you are of like mind. Whatever resentment you feel toward Olivia is because you cannot control her. And I know you, Mother, you despise that which you cannot manipulate.”

  The door jerked open and Grayson entered. He faltered, glancing from Tobias to his mother. “I did not realize the room was taken,” he said softly, as was his way whenever he was in the company of the dowager countess. His mere presence normally sent her into fits of anger and fainting spells, all in hopes of manipulating Tobias to send his father’s by-blow from his life.

  “Well come in,” she said. “Perhaps you can speak some sense into your brother. He is insisting on marrying a young lady who is very unsuitable for our distinguished title.” An invitation that indicated how truly rattled she was at the thought of him marrying Olivia. His mother had never been civil to Grayson before.

  Tobias walked to the oak desk and sat on the edge, droning out his mother’s voice as she launched into her version of the damning event. He needed to concentrate on how to convince Olivia to be his countess, a feat he was sure would require a most arduous effort.

  Chapter Nine

  Livvie had been thoroughly ravished by a man reputed to be ruthless and cuttingly cold, yet he had burned with wild passion and it had all been for her. She had been so painfully alive for a glorious few minutes and now she was ruined. Tobias had kissed her, and all her thoughts had dissolved under his sensual mastery. She suddenly felt a swell of pity for all the debutantes who had fallen for the seductive charms and kisses of a seasoned rake. How weak she had been to his touch, but how wickedly delightful it had been to be in his arms.

  The raw, painful emotions tearing through her were wholly unexpected, and it was not because she had been caught in such a thoroughly compromising position. It was the idea that Tobias could have touched her with such care, such tenderness, such passion, and he did not even like her. She had been seduced by a scoundrel and she had allowed him. Her mind raced from one frightening thought to another. She was entirely without prospects and was most assuredly ruined.

  Was she no better than her father?

  She pulled herself together with an effort of will. With quick motions, she caught her mess of hair into a simple chignon. She had already changed into a pale peach gown and slid her feet into more comfortable slippers, moving with quick efficiency, and doing her best to ignore the tenderness between her thighs. There would be no delaying speaking with the earl and his mother. With a heavy heart, she stood up from the chair in front of her dressing table.

  Francie was waiting patiently by the door, her eyes alight with sympathy. “My brother is willing to do the honorable thing, but I can see from your expression you are going to be stubborn.”

  Livvie flinched. The ton considered Tobias a prime catch. He possessed wealth, connections, and power. She had given him her virtue in a rush of blind passion, and dare she admit it, she liked the man. He disliked her intensely, and the very idea of forming a lifelong commitment without any tender sentiments or regard was heart wrenching. She desired him, but her esteem was not returned. How could she endure such a marriage?

  Her papa had not been contented with her mother and he’d been unable to live without his mistress when it should have been Mamma he felt such intensity of emotions for. What if she had a similar marriage? What if Tobias disliked her so intensely he would take mistresses when they married? The pain and humiliation would be unendurable.

  “Tonight was the first time your brother has ever been anything but coldly polite. I am still at a loss as to what happened. One minute I wanted to kick his shin…and then the next all I wanted was for him to never stop kissing me,” she confessed softly.

  Her friend’s eyes widened and a blush climbed her cheeks. “Was that all he did?”

  “Francie!”

  “It hardly matters. You will need the respectability of marriage to weather the storm to come.”

  The inevitability of another scandal pressed in on Livvie. A weight that was too heavy for her to bear alone. Once Lady Peabody’s lips were loosed, her mistake would spread through the country and then on to London like wildfire. Did Tobias truly wish to wed her? She thought of the animosity between them and winced. No, he would not. She was without connections and had nothing to recommend her.

  “Perhaps a scandal can be avoided. We are, after all, in the country and we were not seen doing anything.”

  Francie hurried over and clasped her hands. “Dear Livvie, please think on my brother’s offer. I assure you, Lady Peabody will spread the gossip of what she saw and the scandal will be terrible. Though he is…he is different from other men, he is honorable. Mother and Tobias are awaiting us.”

  Livvie allowed a small smile to touch her lips. It was all she could manage. She tried to see the benefits of marriage to the earl and her mind was frightfully blank. They exited her chamber and walked at a brisk pace downstairs. Holding her head high, she marched down the hallway. Many of the guests were still at the ball and in the card rooms. She could hear the faint din of laughter and the soft chords of a waltz floating up from below. When they reached the library, she lifted her hand to knock and hesitated. The dowager countess’s voice rose. “Why are you being so stubborn, Tobias?” she asked, a hint of admonition in her words.

  “I’ve been told it’s my nature to be pigheaded. It is why I have such support and success in the House of Lords,” he said drily.

  “And what if she deliberately trapped you? My cousin’s estate isn’t doing well and she only comes with two thousand, and from what I have seen of her wild ways, it is entirely possible.”

  Livvie stiffened in outrage.

  “I do not care for such things,” Tobias countered, mild annoyance evident in his tone. “This conversation is a waste of time as my mind is my own and it has decided on marrying Lady Olivia.”

  Her heart eased a bit.

 
; “She is without decorum or any proper polish to become the Countess of Blade.”

  Francie gasped. “Oh, Livvie, do not take her words to heart, Mamma is…”

  Then Tobias spoke, “Yet she will be the new countess. You will also make arrangements to open up the dower house for your future residence.”

  There was a flurry of sounds and Livvie managed to lurch back as the door was flung open and then slammed. The dowager countess vibrated with anger, and Livvie’s heart broke a little more. The countess gave her a bitter look of tearful condemnation.

  “Come along, Francie. It is terrible manners to eavesdrop. I taught you better.”

  She gripped her daughter’s arm and walked away without acknowledging Livvie. It was certainly ridiculous to feel such hurt but she did. She lifted her hand to knock once again and faltered as another voice spoke.

  “Is it Lady Olivia’s character that has the frown on your face, or the countess’s disapproval?”

  She stiffened.

  “Mother’s disproval has no bearing on my decision. She will cry and rant bitterly that I have no respect for her nerves and tender feelings, I daresay she will even faint a few times. Women use tears and fainting spells solely to manipulate and bend a man to their will, and Mother is an expert. She will be leaving Grangeville Park for the dower house within the week, for I do not have the tolerance for the tantrum I can predict she will unleash.”

  “Ah, so it’s the beauty. I know you have no aversion to marriage, so what could be your possible objection to such a charming beauty?”

  He thinks me a charming beauty?

  “Unfortunately, she is not the tractable and biddable sort of female.”

  There was a low chuckle and murmur she was unable to ascertain.

  “You must admit it, man, Lady Olivia’s charms are delightful. You would be bored with any other young lady, especially the tractable sorts.”

  There was a low grunt from Tobias.

  “I think I will send the hoyden to the farthest estate of mine, in Scotland…hell, maybe the West Indies,” Tobias drawled with amusement coloring his tone.

  A strange numbness spread in her chest. The wretched, insufferable man. Narrowing her eyes, she rapped her knuckles on the door, then entered without waiting for a response.

  …

  Grayson launched to his feet as Olivia stalked into the library. Relief filled Tobias that her face wasn’t wet with tears and that she’d possessed the strength to return below stairs instead of sequestering herself in her chamber with smelling salts.

  “I would not marry you if you were the last man in England,” she said by way of greeting.

  Tobias smiled.

  She turned to his brother and dipped into a shallow curtsy. “How charming to see you again, Grayson.”

  “Lady Olivia, I offer you my heartiest congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”

  She gave him a pointed glare, before she softened with a beautiful agreeable smile. His brother flushed and tugged at his cravat. “Thank you, Grayson, though such sentiments at this time are unwarranted. I would appreciate a private audience with the earl,” she said with such charm that Tobias frowned, instantly suspicious.

  Grayson grinned and after a short bow toward Olivia, exited.

  She clasped her arm across her middle and faced him, her eyes alight with defiance. “If a carriage could be ordered for me, I would appreciate the kindness. At dawn, I would return to my stepfather’s estate.” Her gaze did not meet his, instead she glared at the point above his left shoulder.

  Her lips were delightfully swollen from his kisses. It was still evident they had been cavorting. Yet she was refusing his hand. He’d known she was not the type of woman to succumb to persuasion, and instead of it filling him with irritation, he admired her.

  “I will return with you and have a word with Lord Bathhurst,” Tobias said smoothly.

  Her flashing eyes snapped to his. “You truly cannot be entertaining marriage between us.”

  “Yes.”

  “My lord, I—”

  “Tobias…Olivia. I believe we can dispense with all formalities after all we’ve shared, don’t you agree?”

  Looking slightly overwhelmed, she nodded. “Very well, Tobias. We do not like each other.”

  “We did well enough in the linen closet.”

  Her cheeks went red, and she glared at him. “I still cannot marry you.”

  “You are being silly,” he said when he wanted to rattle her. Did she not realize how precarious her situation was? “Are you delusional about your current position in society?”

  She gave a disdainful flick of her head. “I am fully aware. We were not seen embracing intimately. Lady Peabody and your mother only observed me strolling down the hallway with you a few paces behind. Hardly damning. It does not require you to sacrifice your bachelorhood to a lady you deem to be your inferior and who you have no tendre for.”

  Tobias almost smiled. Hardly damning. Olivia was ruined and trying to act blasé. Being pretentious did not suit her. He could see the curl of fright in her eyes, and something more. He could not place the emotions that trembled on her lips or caused the soft sheen glistening in her eyes, but it made his heart soften, halting the blistering retort. He sucked in a harsh breath when he realized it was vulnerability.

  She had always seemed so sure, possessing an acerbic tongue, disdainful of the ton’s mores, never afraid to voice her opinion, even when it was unsolicited. He forgot that she was only twenty-two years of age. “I do not believe you to be inferior to me in any regard, Olivia.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You called me a hoyden.”

  He splayed his legs in a more casual repose and folded his arms across his chest. “And?”

  “And such an opinion does not imply arrogant superiority on your part? After all, am I not a hoyden in your eyes because I swim and ride astride as you do?” She raised her chin a fraction higher. “You hold such an opinion of me and expect me to marry you?” Her tongue was cutting. “I would rather my reputation be ruined than marry a man who does not like me and wishes to restrict me.”

  Interesting. “And what of your sister’s reputation?”

  She froze, indecision flashing in her eyes. “Ophelia is eight years of age. When her time is near, nothing will mar her come out.”

  “Come now, we both know the power of scandal and its longevity. Your father killed himself years ago, and mine brought the Blade name into shocking disrepute and our estates to the brink of ruin. Society still judges us by their actions. How do you think your sister—and mine—will fare when our scandal roars through the ton?”

  Shock settled on her face before she lowered her gaze, hiding her emotions from him. He waited for her to speak but she remained mute. Ah, he would need to be more ruthless.

  “You could be with child as we speak,” he said, watching her every expression.

  Her head snapped up, and her eyes widened. “I ne…nev—” She paled. “A child? Of course…a child. I never knew…” Her hand instinctively settled on her stomach. “Surely one act of intimacy cannot conceive a child?”

  “It can.”

  “I pray that isn’t the case!”

  “Do you find the thought so distasteful?” he asked icily, remembering his mother’s tears and screams at his father for wanting another child.

  “No…I must admit, a child, a family of my own was never something I had given much thought to until my stepfather and mother thrust the notion upon me. Yes, it would be an eventual desire but not now…and not one conceived in a bit of passion.”

  Bit of passion? She had damned near ruined his cock for anyone else. He could still taste her on his tongue, feel the ripple of her release. It irritated him that she should have such a hold over his passion. He’d never had any reason to reminisce on a lover’s response as he had done with hers. How he had wished he had been able to see her eyes, see the wet glisten of her lips from his kisses, part her legs and look at her swollen folds. Sudd
en impatience bit him. “It only takes the one occurrence. It would be foolish to waste time to see if you are indeed increasing. By then, the rumors of your downfall will be rampant. I will arrange for a special license.”

  Her eyes flashed fire. “I have not consented.”

  “I am sure Lord Bathhurst will take care of such formalities for you when I inform him you may even now carry my heir.”

  She gasped, spluttered, and then paled. “Surely you would not be so ungentlemanly.”

  He arched a brow. “Most assuredly I would.”

  “And if he should challenge you?”

  “I would spare you the pain of accepting.”

  Her green eyes were wary. “I heard your unflattering remark to your brother.” She cocked her head quite gracefully to the side, observing him. “Do you hold any tender regards toward me?” she asked quietly.

  It was the last question Tobias ever expected her to ask. But of course, he should have known that beneath the wildness beat a romantic heart like in all young ladies. Hell, maybe she would soon expect him to read poetry to her. “No.”

  She nodded. “Then I will not marry you. I’ve always vowed to only marry for love.”

  “Why?”

  Amusement gleamed in her eyes and he was unaccountably pleased to see it.

  “To be contrary. All my life, Mother has impressed on me the many reasons for marriage and not once has she spoken of the more tender sentiments.”

  “Sensible woman.”

  Olivia sauntered closer to him, and he restrained the urge to tug her to him and rub soothing circles on her shoulders.

  “And because I despaired of hearing the M word so much, I took pleasure in insisting I’d only marry a man who admires all of me. I found the idea grew on me.” A dimple appeared in her cheek as her smile widened. “What manner of man would actually love the fact that I may ride, shoot, and fence better than he? I have made money from my paintings, and I am quite determined to create a reputation as a reputable painter. My passions and virtues are not ones gentlemen of society seem to admire. Your mother has made that clear to me several times and it is quite disheartening to think I must pretend to have false likes and interests for a man to admire me. Even you, my lord, take some joy in calling me a hoyden and avoided me at every turn. If not for…” Her face reddened. “You would not be proposing marriage if not for…” She visibly gritted her teeth. “You know of which I speak. I do not pretend to be extraordinary, but I am not lacking.”