Wicked in His Arms

by Stacy Reid

  I’ve avoided you because night upon night I have dreamed of you tangled in my sheets with me riding you to ecstasy.

  He was desperate to get his wayward thoughts under control.

  “It seems as if you are against marriage and not me in particular.”

  “I believe, my lord, you should imagine the simple pleasures you take for granted—riding astride, swimming in the lake—being forbidden to you and you are encouraged to only do needlework, take long walks, and play the pianoforte.”

  “Life would be dreadfully boring if I conceded to such expectations.”

  She laughed and it enchanted him. “I am gratified to hear you say so, Tobias.” Then she sobered. “If you had some sentiments for me, I would marry you,” she ended softly with a wistful smile. “Now I shall not even consider it lightly.”

  It was then that he truly appreciated how different she was from the many ladies of the ton. All would have been filled with glee for trapping him so thoroughly, but not her.

  “I do not believe in the constricting emotion of love. Nor do I believe in anger, jealously, or bemoaning one’s fate. That invariably leads to an excess of ruinous emotions.”

  The tempestuous clashes between his parents that had sometimes turned violent had evoked within Tobias a deep longing for calm and a strict control over one’s emotions. The day he had learned to compartmentalize his mother’s tears and fits of rage and his father’s virulent fury one minute and then his unbridled happiness the next, life became simpler and had stayed so. And he would damn well do nothing to jeopardize that.

  He had vowed he would never allow intimacy with a woman who had the power to shift the ground from underneath him, to test the restraints he had on his emotions, namely anger, jealously, and that frenzied obsession which disguised itself as love. The gossipmongers and even a few who called themselves friends named him cynical, coldhearted, and too detached to appreciate the sentiments involved in loving a woman. But he was certain on what needed to be done and would never be swayed to act rashly.

  “Are you implying you do not feel? Though I can well credit such an assertion.”

  “I feel, Olivia, but feelings must always be tempered with logic and rational thought before one acts. When that is done, it should be quite evident the ridiculous ways in which people oftentimes behave are not required. I took the opportunity to speak with you instead of making my offer to your father. I tried to make allowances for your sensibility, which I can see was foolish of me to do. You are determined to be pigheaded.”

  She gasped, clearly affronted. “I simply do not wish for a husband to dictate my life.”

  “Yet you will have one within the week. I will not allow gossips to once more stain the Blade name. I will not allow scandal to taint my sister’s future prospect. I expect you to be a countess with good sense and temperance.” The very idea of stifling her vivacity and fieriness had discomfort churning in his gut. He swiftly buried the feelings, knowing it was best for their marriage if she understood his expectations. Though a part of him wondered what he truly wanted. Lady O was the very likeness of Olivia, never had he written of a heroine with such strong alluring complexities and vulnerabilities. “And I do expect all inappropriate behavior to end.”

  “And I expect you can kiss my backside,” she said sweetly.

  Her vulgar tongue had arousal singing through his blood. “I will. On our wedding night, I will kiss all of you. I regret that I did not love you as I wanted to earlier. I assure you, my oversight will be rectified.”

  Her eyes widened and her face turned an alarming shade of red. Then she turned and darted from the library.

  Tobias chuckled. Life with her as his countess would never be boring or predictable, but he would have to be ruthless in ensuring he did not fall into the trap of all previous Blade men. Those who fell in love invariably lost all of their honor along with their senses.

  Chapter Ten

  After several hours of staring at the ceiling in the dark, Livvie slipped from the bed. She tugged on her robe, thrust her feet into her slippers, and left her room. She moved along the corridor in the dark, finding her way to the east wing by memory. Propriety dictated she wait until in the morning to speak with Tobias, but the thoughts and anxiety dominating her mind would not allow her to sleep a wink. The day had been dreadful. Lady Peabody had wasted no time informing a few selected friends of Livvie’s mishap. The croquet match on the front lawn had been intolerable, as everyone had stared and whispered. Worse, the dowager countess had summoned Livvie’s stepfather and mother to Grangeville Park. She wanted all to be settled with her and Tobias before her parents arrived.

  Panting slightly from climbing the winding stairs so rapidly, she paused on the landing and took several steadying breaths. The oppressive dark would be disquieting to most but not to her. She hurried along the hallway and as she drew closer to Tobias’s chamber, a single candelabrum provided a slice of light. Murmurings reached her ears and she slowed her steps.

  “Please, Tobias, you cannot mean to leave me here in the hall, guests may happen upon us at any time.”

  Livvie’s mouth went dry.

  “I am in the doorway of my chamber, Arabella, and you are in the hallway, if anyone should happen along it is your own doing.”

  “You are refusing to let me in!”

  “I did not invite you to my chambers.”

  Relief made Livvie’s knees wobble.

  “My darling, please, you cannot be serious in your earlier assertions that you are ending our relationship. Please let me in, so we may discuss the matter in a more intimate fashion,” she said throatily.

  “No. Whatever relationship we had is most certainly over. I am being generous in allowing you to remain at Grangeville Park until morning after your behavior. I expect you to depart then with no fuss or I shall have you forcibly removed.”

  She moaned low in her throat and swooned. Instead of catching her, Tobias’s lips curved in disgust and he closed the door. The lady he had referred to as Arabella stiffened, then stomped her feet. A look of calculation settled on her face. She gripped her nightgown and stormed away, thankfully in the other direction.

  A few seconds later Livvie was once again plunged into the dark as the lady took her candle with her. Taking a deep breath, she marched over to Tobias’s door and knocked firmly. “It’s Livvie,” she whispered.

  Before she could knock again, the door was flung open and he tugged her inside. “I can see you take pleasure in courting total ruination,” he said, his face inscrutable as he stared down at her.

  Despite it being summer, the fire was lit and the room was nicely warm. She moved closer to the roaring fireplace. “I could not sleep…and I have been thinking on your offer.”

  “Go on.”

  “I would like us to reach a happy agreement before my parents arrive. My stepfather was grievously ill a few weeks past and I do not want to upset him much, and my mother can be over anxious.” At his nod, she continued, “I have terms before…before I will consent to be your wife.”

  He smiled with deceptive charm. “Of course. I’d not expected anything else.”

  “As you are aware, I objected to marriage, not just to you, but to any man.” She started to pace before the fire. “There are no advantages in marriage for a woman, in my opinion. You will control all aspects of my life, what little I own will no longer be my own…you have the right to beat me for imagined hoydenish ways and then when you are finished, you can cast me aside for any number of mistresses and I will have no recourse,” she said, halting to face him.

  He said nothing, and she forced herself to endure his unfathomable gaze for what felt like an eternity. There was no way around it. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I understand you have a mistress,” she said bluntly, driving to the heart of what had kept her awake and restless. Livvie wondered if the lady he’d just turned away was his mistress. Satisfaction rushed through her that he’d been honorable.

  An arrogant b
row arched. “I had not imagined such gossip would have reached your ears.”

  “I am quite attentive whenever the coldest earl London has ever seen is mentioned in whispered tones,” she said with an inelegant shrug of her shoulders.

  He sat on the edge of a small oak desk by the windows, sprawled his leg outward in the most improper fashion, and folded his arms, considering her. “There is a lady I had some attachment toward.”

  “Only the one?”

  “Yes.”

  Her throat tightened and she folded her arms across her stomach. “I…I expect whatever attachments you have with her to end. My father…my father abandoned me and my mother to fend for ourselves, in a world that made it evident it has no use for women…on account of how desperately he loved his mistress, Lady Prudence Mayberry.”

  The earl’s face went impassive. “I have no intention of keeping a mistress once we are married. I would never dishonor you in such a manner.”

  She searched his face intently. He seemed sincere, and a modicum of the tension left her body. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “In fact, I ended whatever liaison I had today.”

  “Was it the lady I just saw at your door?”

  He regarded her with cool challenge in his eyes. Dear Lord, surely he was not thinking she overstepped. She struggled for equanimity.

  His gaze searched her face. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Now—”

  “Please, I have more, Tobias.”

  His mouth curved faintly, and he positively radiated power and leashed sensuality. “Pray, continue.”

  “Whenever we are in the country, when I ride, I will do so astride. When in Town, I will use the required side-saddle.” Her heart drummed as she waited for his firm denial.

  “Done.”

  “I…I…done?” She had braced herself for his flat refusal.

  “Yes.”

  She took a deep breath, pleased with how their negotiations were progressing. “I have been told by many, my choices for reading are not delicate or of the sort of material and tracts a young lady should read. I would like to select my own reading material and not be confined in such a regard.”

  “Done.”

  She froze.

  Why is he being so accommodating?

  “I will not be abandoned in the country, Scotland, or the West Indies.”

  Amusement gleamed in his gaze. “If that is your wish?”

  His capitulations were alarming her. “Most assuredly.” What would he say to her final demand?

  “You’re awfully accommodating,” she said suspiciously.

  “I’m a reasonable man.”

  Hope surged hotly in her breast. “I want it in our…our marriage contract that…that I will be allowed to continue my work.”

  He appeared riveted, then he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Work?”

  Livvie swallowed, appreciative of the shaky ground upon which she stood. “Yes, my lord…I paint.”

  “I know, and your talent is something wonderful. I have never witnessed such skill in one so young.”

  Dizzying pleasure filled her. “Thank you.”

  “I would not begrudge you any hobby. I have my own interests.”

  Her heart raced. “It is not a hobby, Tobias. I sold my last painting for twenty guineas to Squire Wentworth. I…I made his acquaintance in Bath a few months ago, and he admired my work most ardently.”

  For an instant, he looked totally nonplussed. “The Countess of Blade will not work.”

  She rushed over to him. “I…I cannot give up painting. It is as integral as breathing to me,” she said softly. “I took up my first brush at three years of age and I have never stopped painting since.”

  His features softened. “Then do not stop. Convert entire rooms at all of our houses if you will for your work space.”

  “Oh! Thank you, Tobias, I—”

  “However, you will not advertise your talent for sale. I will set aside an allowance for you of two hundred guineas monthly. I trust that will suffice?”

  She had sold over thirty paintings in the past year and had not managed to save such an amount. “I…yes, my lord, that is beyond generous.” Would he understand her need to earn something for herself and not to be solely dependent on his goodwill and income? She held back the words begging to tumble from her lips. She had achieved some victories tonight, more than she had ever hoped for. One day at a time.

  “Are you now prepared to hear my terms?”

  She nodded. It was subtle, but the easygoing, relaxing man vanished. “There will be no scandal, tantrums, or tears.” He regarded her with measured, glittering eyes. “The last thing I expect to hear is gossip about my wife, ever. Is that very clear?”

  She looked thoughtfully across at him. “I will endeavor to comport myself to your expectations.” She would be a paragon of grace, modesty, and demureness…even if it killed her.

  “Do not ever change, Livvie.”

  She suppressed the ghost of her father’s whisper. The earl would have no cause to regret marrying her. Livvie was not only marrying him for her sake but for her family. However… “I cannot promise you no tears. There may be a time—”

  “None. Tears, tantrums, and fainting spells are a mere form of manipulation and deception utilized by the wielder. Women use tears as artfully as fans are used for flirting. If you ever approach me in such a manner, I promise you, the very next day you will be at another estate.”

  “I will do all in my power to be as expected.”

  There was an odd flicker in his eyes, as if he was disappointed by her answer. Certainly she was mistaken.

  “See that you do. The guests will be departing tomorrow, and I will procure a special license. We shall be married by next week. I trust this is acceptable.”

  “That…that is very soon.” His eyes dropped deliberately to her stomach and she blushed. “And what if I am not with child?”

  He studied her with unnerving calm. “I pride myself on my control and strict temperance over my passions, Olivia. For the first time in years, I acted without regard for another, a thing I had promised never to do again. I kissed you and I lost my damned senses. Even if you are without child, I ruined you. I stole your virtue, and your future husband would have felt its loss. And I assure you, Lady Peabody is already speaking of your supposed disgrace.”

  Livvie was still stuck on I kissed you and I lost my damned sense. “I…I lost a bit of me when you kissed me as well.”

  He stared at her, and she wished she had not spoken with such boldness. Silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. “Let me assure you, I will never be so reckless again.”

  “I do not mind…when we are married, of course.”

  He made no answer and her heart started a slow thud. What did he truly mean?

  “Are we to have a normal marriage?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She now wondered what was truly normal. The farce of a marriage many in the ton had? Blank stares and cold touches, where one or both parties eventually sought a lover? Her stomach cramped at the very idea of Tobias betraying her in such a manner. “Good night, my lord.”

  “Tobias.”

  She allowed a smile to touch her lips and bury all the uncertainty she felt. “Tobias.”

  He pushed from the desk and walked over to her with easy grace and cupped her cheeks. He tilted her head and pressed a kiss against her forehead. His touch and gentleness was so unexpected, she froze.

  “Sleep well, Olivia,” he murmured and stepped back.

  With a nod, she fairly ran from his chambers to hers, wondering what had just happened.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lady Sophie Rayburn, Viscountess Wimple, the woman Tobias had once been engaged to, was perfectly groomed, her slender figure sheathed in a high-waisted pale pink gown. Her long supple fingers clutched the folds of Tobias’s jacket and her pouting lips pressed to his.

  Livvie felt as if she were suffoca
ting. It was through a veil of anger and pain she noticed Tobias’s eyes were open and glued to her, frozen at the threshold of his library. Without flickering a lid, he gripped the lady’s shoulders firmly and pushed her from him.

  “Oh, Tobias, I’ve missed you so, darling. I cannot credit why you have ended the house party and dismissed all the guests. Only you would be so rude, and yet be admired for your actions. Everyone was positively atwitter at the announcement. Invite me to stay for a few more days and—”

  Livvie slammed the door, and Lady Wimple jerked and spun around. Her delicate hands fluttered to her throat, but her brown eyes gleamed with cunning and spite. It was then Livvie realized this was all a contrived show and this harpy wanted her to feel the distressing jealously now surging though her veins. Her anger spiked and she walked farther into the library.

  “To what do I owe your interruption, Olivia?”

  Oooh, as if she had not caught another woman pressed against him. It was just last night she had visited his chambers and he had reassured her he would end all liaisons. He stared at her now with a chilling sort of watchfulness and she wanted to slap the icy reserve from his features. He despised emotional tantrums, but she wanted to indulge in one that very moment. But she needed to be ladylike.

  The viscountess smiled. “Please do excuse us, Lady Olivia, but I was having a private meeting with the earl.”

  Her control wavered.

  “Well?” Lady Wimple demanded haughtily, looking down her thin but very elegant nose.

  Livvie smiled. “You will pack your belongings and depart within the hour. I will order a carriage for you, and you will not be invited to Grangeville Park again.”

  Shock slackened the viscountess’s features. It was evident she had not expected Livvie to be so bold and decisive. They both knew she had no real power and that Tobias could veto any of her edicts.