by Stacy Reid
Livvie Dearest,
You will succeed splendidly at your new station. You have attained more than I ever dreamed—you are now the Countess of Blade. I offer you these insights gained from my two marriages, and I urge you to take them to heart for I know how important loyalty and mutual regard in a relationship is to you.
Never argue with your husband.
Never smile too long at other men.
Ensure the household runs smoothly, at all times.
Do not prick your earl’s temper, and I encourage you to obey his directions at all times.
Love the foods that he adores and read the articles he writes.
Compliment your earl often. Men like their vanity to be praised.
Livvie crumpled the note in her fist, unable to read farther, but recalling her mother had mentioned twice that it was Livvie’s duty to provide Tobias with an heir…at all costs. Tears burned the backs of her eyes and she blinked fiercely. She was doomed to fail at her marriage if she needed to do all those things to ensure Tobias was affectionate and faithful. How her mother could urge Livvie to go against her character was beyond her. Her stomach felt hollow at the thought that the love her mother showed her viscount was all contrived, all to ensure he did not abandon her as her first husband had done.
What if the love she thought her mother found with the viscount was all fake? What if Livvie couldn’t be a good wife? What good was it trying to find impossible answers to these frustrating questions?
There was a knock, then the doorknob rattled. She threw the note into the fireplace and it was quickly consumed by the flames. Francie walked in, and Livvie smiled. “Francie, I never expected you.”
“Oh, Livvie, you look so pale. Are you terribly afraid?”
“Only anxious. Everything has happened so fast. What are you doing here? I expected your brother,” she admitted with a blush.
“Tobias is swimming in the lake. The heat is sweltering. Mother says she cannot remember a summer being this dreadfully hot.”
“You do not have to excuse your brother’s absence.”
Francie flushed, confirming Livvie’s suspicion. She pushed the hurt down deep. Was it that he did not want them to have a wedding night? She was unsure if the idea filled her with relief or anger. Her friend closed the door and leaned against it. “I…I wanted to see you before…” Regret and anxiety coated her lovely features.
Alarm skittered through Livvie, and she strolled over to her friend. “Before what, Francie?”
Her lips flattened. “Why did you marry my brother?”
“I—”
“I know your stubborn nature and I do not believe you were coerced. You would never allow anyone to persuade you against your desires, at least not in marriage. I know your romantic heart, so please tell me the truth.”
Livvie frowned, instinctively realizing this was more than what truly prompted her to marry Tobias. “If I did not desire your brother, nothing could have persuaded me to wed him, even with our compromised state,” she answered truthfully. “He makes me angry at times, but he also fascinates me. I…like him.”
Francie wilted in obvious relief.
“What is this about?”
Hot hope glowed in her eyes as she took a tentative step forward. “I have the deepest affection for someone, and I know he adores me, Livvie. He has asked me to marry him, and though I said yes, I know Mother and Tobias will object to our union. I have been in an agony of doubt for most of today, wondering what decision to make. Do I accept the man my mother has selected for me? A viscount whom I am sure Tobias will approve? Or do I follow my heart?”
“Oh, Francie, I am terribly sorry.” Livvie tugged her close and they hugged fiercely. “I am very sure your brother loves you, and I encourage you to speak with him and share what is in your heart. Tell him of your gentleman’s proposal.”
“And if he objects and bundles me away to Scotland or a nunnery?”
“Then you list all the reasons you love and respect your gentleman. And let Tobias meet him so he can see those qualities for himself. If you cannot live without him, convince your bother of your mutual affections, but do not wed where you will not be happy.”
Francie pulled back and smiled. “Thank you, Livvie. I shall not be persuaded away from him.”
“Good. Are you now able to share his name and family connections with me?”
“I wish to speak with Tobias first. I cannot trust you would not be tempted to tell him before I get the chance.”
“Francie! I would never betray your confidence.”
“Forgive me, but I must be careful, you do not know Tobias like I do.” Then she pressed a quick kiss to Livvie’s cheek and left.
She was still unsure if she had relieved her friend’s heart. The only thing she was certain of was that Tobias was avoiding her. She suddenly felt very inadequate and horribly embarrassed. It was clear the night in the closet was an aberration. He did not truly desire her. She was just the undesirable connection he felt honor bound to marry.
She was confronted with the daunting task of persuading Tobias to accept and possibly fall in love with her as she was—romantic and oftentimes reckless. Livvie despised the way her heart ached.
She closed her eyes, fighting tears. They were useless and she would not indulge herself. She reminded herself that she and Tobias had a lifetime to learn about each other and form an attachment based on mutual respect and genuine tender regards.
She exited her chamber and hurried below stairs to the library. After a quick knock to ensure it was empty, she entered and strolled over to the vast selection of books that lined an entire wall. The fireplace was lit and she enjoyed the inviting glow of the room. She would spend the night here reading. Ignoring the disappointment lumping in her throat, she selected a thin leather volume. The door opened and she spun around.
Tobias jerked to a halt when he saw her and stood stock-still for a few seconds before entering the room. His shirt was plastered to his chest in some places, and his hair was obviously damp. His chest was layered with well-defined muscle, and Livvie doubted she’d ever seen such a magnificent sight in all her life. Her eyes widened when she spied his bare feet.
“I did not expect anyone to be here,” he said. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment, hating how distant they seemed. “You’ve been swimming.”
“Yes. And it did not work.”
“What did not work?”
“I still want you.”
Her heart was in her throat. She had not expected such honesty. “That is why you’ve been swimming…because you desire me?”
“Yes.”
“And is that so terrible?”
“Evidently.”
She worked to contain her emotions. “Why?”
“I have never hungered for another woman the way I do you,” he said. “I do not like it.”
Elation surged through her blood. “It seems a bit foolish to be reserved with our passions…we are man and wife, I cannot think of a more permanent union.”
“No, I cannot,” he said thoughtfully.
He closed the door with a firm snick and prowled over to her until he was fairly crowding her against the desk. He nudged her legs apart and gripped her nightgown, pushing it up until he cupped the suddenly aching center of her. Nothing could have prepared Livvie for such a fierce jolt of desire. His throat worked on a swallow, and he closed his eyes as if trying to control whatever he was feeling. She did not give him the chance and instead leaned into him, causing his palm to press against her nub of pleasure. She shivered violently and an answering groan was ripped from him. “Kiss me, Tobias.”
The words were barely from her lips when he claimed her mouth in a deep carnal kiss. His mouth slanted over hers again and again.
She arched against him, seeking more of the incredible sensations. He pulled the pins out, and the weight of her hair tumbled to her shoulders. Livvie tugged at his shirt, and
with eager touches, tugs, and pulls, Tobias’s shirt was discarded. Before she could appreciate his magnificent form, he knelt in front of her, cupped her buttocks, and roughly pulled her up against his mouth.
Dear God, his tongue was rubbing against her most intimate part. Tremors of pleasure coursed through her body, and she bit into her lip to stop the cries wanting to erupt from her. He licked her deep, and Livvie screamed silently and fisted his hair with strength. Her heart pounded, and her knees trembled. Everything seemed as if it was spiraling out of control. His tongue flicked, and then his teeth scraped against her nub of pleasure. If Tobias didn’t have such a firm hold on her, she would have collapsed.
He stood, lifted her, and then seated her on the oak desk, spreading her thighs in one powerful motion. A very blunt but wonderful pressure notched at her slick entrance.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his dark green eyes glittering with emotions she could not decipher.
“I can’t help it,” she whispered on a half groan, needing him to fill her.
With a powerful surge he entered her, and Livvie cried out, gripping his shoulders. Holding her gaze, Tobias glided back and drove forward repeatedly, at times shallow, and then wonderfully hard and deep, filling her with bliss until she climaxed with soul-searing intensity. He kissed her and seconds later he hugged her into a tight embrace, and with a groan, found his own release.
They stayed like that for a few seconds and she became aware she was the only one breathing so erratically. His were even and controlled. Though she had felt such wonderful pleasure, tonight felt different from their night in the closet. In the dark, they had been free, wild, and without restraint.
He pulled from her and she gasped softly. Her core was achy and tender.
“Did I hurt you?”
She found it hard to meet his eyes. “No.”
He straightened himself and fished a handkerchief from his pockets and pressed it to her. Livvie fought a blush, staring into the fireplace. They had consummated their vows on a desk in his library. He removed his hands and the cloth and gently tugged her nightgown down so it fluttered to her ankles. At the silence, she turned her head to him. He was staring at her, and Livvie could do nothing but return his regard. His arms went around her waist, gathering her close. Her heart tripped in delight and she all but melted against his bare chest.
“Hello…wife,” he said softly, a decidedly puzzled and fascinated vein in his tone.
“Hello…husband,” she replied even softer, biting her lower lip to stop its tremble.
His forehead dropped against hers. “My behavior is inexcusable. I pounced on you like a starving man. I should have escorted you to our chambers and—”
“Is there a rule that says wedding nights are most enjoyable in one’s chambers?”
“No.”
“Then I think we are doing well.”
A slow, lazy smile swept across Tobias’s face. “You are beautiful, wife,” he said, quite unexpectedly.
It felt as if a fist closed over her heart. “I…thank you.”
He skimmed his fingers over her cheek almost tentative in his exploration. Then he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. It was light, tender, sweet, and soothing. Emotions clogged her throat and a craving for something more surged through her.
“I find I do not want to release you.”
Her heart kicked into a furious rhythm. “Then don’t.”
His eyes bore into hers. “Normally, I would be writing, practicing my fighting arts, or if in Town, visiting one of my clubs.”
“I would be painting. I want to paint you…as you are now, so raw and beautiful.”
Another slow grin, heartbreakingly sensual, tugged at his lips. Livvie was at a loss as to what was happening…but it felt as if invisible strings were drawing them closer together. She was still seated on the edge of his desk and he was wonderfully close. The intimacy of their situation had a sweet tension pooling through her veins.
“Would you like to play a game of chess?”
Pleasure filled her. “Are you not afraid I will trounce you?”
His left brow climbed arrogantly. “I accept this challenge.”
He lifted her from the desk.
“I was quite capable of dismounting without assistance.”
“I like touching you.”
“Oh.” The very notion pleased her to her toes. There was hope for their marriage after all.
With a grin, she sauntered over to the small table that held the chess set and sat. He joined her and in short order they were engrossed in the game. Thirty minutes later, she murmured, “Checkmate.”
Tobias chuckled. “I am fascinated by your strategy. At times reckless, and at other times masterfully brilliant.”
The praise stunned her, and acting on instinct, she leaned over and kissed his chin.
They both went absolutely still.
“Did you by chance, countess, miss my lips?”
“No…this arrogant cleft is right where I wanted my mouth,” she said huskily.
He smiled and her heart lightened. She wasn’t about to wallow in misery. Life could only move forward and she resolved to make the best of her marriage. In time, affection and trust would surely develop between her and the earl. In fact, she would work to ensure it.
Chapter Thirteen
Tobias dipped the tip of the quill into the inkwell for the last time. Deep into the fictional world he had created, it took him a few moments to realize there was a steady knocking at the door of his library. He frowned. The entire staff knew that right after breaking his fast, he ensconced himself in his library for at least two hours writing his novels, before facing the duties he had to deal with for his many estates. “Who is it?”
“It’s Livvie.”
A blast of pleasure filled him. He froze. Unusual indeed. He had been trying his damnedest to not recall their wedding night and the depth of strength it had taken not to lose himself in her as he had done in the closet. Her fragrance lingered on his fingers, her taste on his lips, and in the deep recesses of his heart, he wished he had been untamed with her. “Enter.”
The handle twisted and when she appeared, his mouth dried. Her loveliness was very fresh and appealing. Her dark red tresses were caught in a simple chignon, and a few tendrils caressed her cheeks. She wore a pale blue high-waisted dress, and she had a book clasped in her hands. His heart jolted when he saw it was a copy of In the Service of the Crown. “You read the work of Aikens?”
A wide smile stretched her lips. “Yes, do you?” she asked excitedly. “It’s clever and intriguing, and I highly recommend it.”
He grunted noncommittally, but raw pleasure blasted through him. She liked his writing. “I see.”
“Aikens’s work is quite wonderful,” she gushed, more earnest than ever. “I urge you to read In the Service of the Crown. I have the first eight volumes with me, if you wish to borrow them.”
Masking his delight at her praise, he casually leaned back in his chair. “I’d not thought such books were suitable for a young lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “I daresay if men can read it, women can. There is nothing there to shock and traumatize us delicate young ladies. Unless you count the few kisses and seduction Wrotham has employed to retrieve secrets?”
Good God. Kisses and seduction? Tobias knew damn well he wrote more scandalous encounters than mere kisses.
“Which volume are you?”
“I am at volume seven.”
It was volume eight and nine that dealt with the ruthless art of seduction. Should he allow her to read further? He recalled promising not to censure her reading choices.
“What are you writing?”
He glanced down at the loose sheaf of papers and quickly organized them into a pile, then opened his top drawer, laid them down neatly, and locked it with a key. He did not share his writing with anyone but his publisher. He did not consent to interviews, nor to public appearances. He was truly anonymous and his publi
sher was bound by a very strict and ironclad contract to never reveal that the Earl of Blade was Theodore Aikens. As a child, he’d been desperate to escape the violence in his home, and he’d found his sanctuary in books. When the stories in his library had no longer offered Tobias the comfort he sought, he’d created the world he craved, a world where he had complete and utter control of all characters, emotions, and situations. It was such a private part of him, he wondered then if he would ever be able to share such an intimate side of him with his countess. Perhaps never.
After pocketing the key, he glanced up.
Wicked laughter danced in her eyes. “It’s a secret. I like secrets, and it’s quite evident, my lord, you possess one.” She sauntered over to the desk, trailing the tip of her finger across the hardwood desk.
Just looking at her made him ache to touch her, to take her. He pushed from the chair and stood. “Then it’s best I take care to hide my key.”
She chuckled, then sobered. It was then he spied the wariness in her eyes and understood. He had been struggling to find his equilibrium since she had entered his life, how unsettling things must be for her as well. He now had a wife…and he was at a loss as what to do with her. His days were structured to write, manage his estates, write motions for parliament, practice his fighting forms, and, if he needed, visit a lover in London. A tightness settled in his chest. Olivia was truly his wife. He had to learn to share his time and interests.
“Mrs. Potter gave me a tour of the estate. I tried to tell her I have been living here for weeks, but she was not deterred. Grangeville Park is very happily situated and it is a wonderful estate.”
Five years ago, the estate had been crumbling. He’d spent thousands of pounds to restore it to such beauty, and he liked the admiration he spied in her gaze. “Thank you.”
