by Stacy Reid
A laugh caught in her throat. “I will endeavor to behave.”
“Do more than try, wife, succeed.”
“Thank you for taking me with you. I know it could not have been easy with you wanting to…gently clasp my neck between your hands,” she said with an unrepentant grin.
He smiled, and it was so sensually charming her breath caught. “Thank you for accompanying me. Your presence kept the demons from my head.”
She pressed her forehead against his. “I truly believe Francie will be well. Mr. Browning—”
Tobias’s hands tightened on her hips, almost painfully, and his dark brows came together in a harsh forbidding line. “He is a vile seducer who can possess no true regard for my sister. He has exposed her to scandal, ridicule, and scorn. If he held genuine affections he would have approached me for her hand.”
“And would you not have denied him?”
A scowl darkened his face.
“I am not defending Mr. Browning’s actions,” she hurriedly assured Tobias. “I am only hoping you can understand what may have prompted them to not declare themselves. Francie admires and loves you above all else. I would hate to see her grievously injured by your anger and disappointment.”
His face shuttered.
Livvie encircled his neck with her hand, gently playing with the curl of hair at his nape. “I enjoy cream of parsnip soup, boiled duck in apricot sauce, and gooseberries,” she said lightly, hoping to distract him from the dark thoughts she could see gathering in his eyes. If she could not seduce him, the best way to pass the time was to learn of each other. She was rather looking forward to it.
For a timeless moment, he said nothing, and the steady drumming of the rain on the roof and against the windows were the only sounds echoing in the small room.
“I like beef á la royale and Bakewell tarts.”
Pleasure burst inside of her, and she quickly shared something else. “One of my greatest desires is to establish myself as a respected painter.”
He frowned. “Selling your work?”
“Yes.”
“All that I own is yours. You have no need to work.”
“Wrong,” she said softly, unable to resist the temptation of kissing the cleft on his chin. “All that you own belongs to your heir…our son, if we are blessed enough in that regard. And even if I were the richest woman in the world, I would still desire to see my paintings gracing many homes and even a gallery. I’ve also thought about attending the Royal Academy.”
His breathing changed, roughening when she kissed the corner of his lips.
“For many years I dreamed of having my own money and not being dependent on a man, whether he be my father or a husband.”
Her earl tipped back his head, his dark gaze searching hers. “And why is that?”
“The months following my father’s suicide were the worst I have ever experienced. It was as if I had passed over, into a fantastical caricature of what my life had been. In this new life, misfortune and hunger were frequent companions. And this had all happened at the whim of a man, a husband, a father. All my mother could do was cry and put herself at the mercy of another man to improve our situation.”
“I see.”
“I never wanted to endure that. I wanted to be able to support myself with a comfortable living.”
He gathered her even closer. “The first thing I did the morning we married was notify my attorney to open an account in your name. A sum of twenty thousand pounds was deposited and an annuity will be added. When I die, I promise you, countess, you will be well situated financially. I also want you to select two of my un-entailed estates when we return, and they will be a part of your widow’s portion.”
Livvie could only stare at him in shock. “I…thank you.”
A disquieting silence lingered. She had never expected him to be so protective and generous. “We suffered the degradation of poverty…so says my mother. But were we truly poor? I’ve read of the slums in the newspapers, the calls for reform to help those suffering. I cannot imagine living in such squalor as what is reported. There are so many homeless children. I visited London once with Mamma while our troops were fighting Napoleon and dozens of children accosted us, begging.” She shuddered. “They were so dirty, covered in soot and grime, and they stank. In their eyes, Tobias, I only saw emptiness, despair. No hope for the future or a better tomorrow. I have been reading your arguments on how society needs to pull together and render assistance to those whom England has abandoned and…you have my deepest admiration,” she ended softly.
A glint entered his eyes, and he had the most arrested expression. “Most of the ton thinks I am foolish.”
“But not all, and those are the ones we should concentrate upon to gain their support for the thousands so in need.”
A decidedly arrogant brow arched. “We?”
“Yes…I want to help in every way I can,” she declared loyally.
“Then I will be sure to include you in Westfall’s and my next meeting.”
“I’ve heard rumors of the marquess. His daughter…”
Shadows darkened Tobias’s eyes. “She was once one of those poor and abandoned children of England. No more. The ton may not claim her, but she is loved by the marquess and his true friends.”
Livvie smiled. “I’m glad.”
His head bent and he kissed the side of her neck. Though she wanted to dally in pleasure, she feared never getting such an opportunity where they spoke with such relaxed frankness. “Tell me more of your family.”
He stilled and lifted his head. A faint sound of amusement slipped from him, though his eyes blanked. “No.”
“All I am privy to is rumors, I daresay that is not the way to gain knowledge of my new family. Did your parents love each other, despite everything?”
He slanted her a considering glance. “On many occasion my father beat my mother, quite harshly. Yet perplexingly, she loved him.”
“I do hope you are aware that you are nothing like that.”
He cocked his head and her stomach tightened to see the doubt lingering in his gaze. How could he believe such a thing?
“For years, I dreaded being like him. I was quick to temper and volatile. I got in many fights in my younger days and he was proud to say how alike we were. Father would have been even prouder if I had become a debauched rake like himself.”
Her heart thudded at his revelation. “I am so very sorry, Tobias.”
“Francie was afraid of him and it was my job to protect her. It is still my job and will always be my duty to care and protect her.” His jaw visibly clenched. “Mother started an affair because she learned of Grayson’s existence. Our father discovered and his rage knew no bounds. He beat our mother with a riding crop most severely. Francie was beside herself with tears and in a bid to silence her hysteria, he hurt her. My father and I fought…and I revealed in my character that I was just as volatile and merciless as he.” Every word he uttered was wrapped in a layer of ice and contempt.
“What did you do?”
His eyes darkened to jade. “I broke my father’s hands, then I traveled to the house of my mother’s lover and challenged him to a duel.”
Her stomach cramped. “What happened?”
“My mother’s lover…a Viscount, met me at Battersea Fields, sword in hand with his seconds. I ruined his life. The scandal after was terrible. His wife and daughters were grievously injured by all our actions, by my thoughtless anger. Until I stormed their town house, his family had no notion of the affair. I was the person who brought it all to the attention of the ton with my unrestrained anger.”
It was a testament to his influence that the few occasions she’d had to be in society she had not heard those rumors. “Did you…did you kill him, your mother’s lover?”
“No.”
“I’m glad.”
“You are tenderhearted.”
“Yes…but it is also balanced by my ferocity.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “My family is noto
rious for their tempers, which have been a plague to the Blade’s name. My father, grandfather, and great-grandfather have caused endless scandals. I vowed to be different, my sons will be different.”
“How?”
“By simply not being a damned fool. By not loving a woman so much that I would do stupid and reckless things for her and because of her. I will squash any scandal that attempts to affect my family. I will teach my children to control their tempers and restrain their emotions so they are always thoughtful of how society and others are affected by their actions.”
She sent him a reproachful glance. “I do not believe love caused grown men to act with such foolhardy and wanton disregard of others’ sensibilities.”
He stroked his thumb back and forth along her cheek. “And what would you know about love?”
Awareness pierced her heart and an electrifying thrill arced through her. Enough to know I am falling in love with you. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not.”
He had an arrested look on his face. “Did you just quote the Bible?”
She grinned. “I did, and I believe it, too. Charity is love, so your father could not have loved your mother…ever.”
His mien grew serious and she ached to know what went on behind his blank stare. “From time to time, I write…poetry,” he said, effectively shifting the topic of discourse.
She blinked. “You dabble in poetry?”
His lips twitched. “Yes.”
She tapped on her chin with a finger. “To contemplation’s sober eye, such is the race of Man; and they that creep, and they that fly, shall end where they began. Alike the Busy and the Gay, but flutter thro’ life’s little day, in fortune’s varying colors drest:—”
“Brushed by the hand of rough Mischance, or chilled by Age, their airy dance, they leave, in dust to rest,” he ended. “Do not expect me to write you any,” he warned in a gruff tone.
She grinned. “I love dogs.”
“I love snakes.”
She found that most remarkable. “You jest!”
“I had a pet snake once.”
“Oh, Tobias, the very notion of a snake in the house is wretchedly intolerable. They are…well, creepy.”
“Now I know the manner of my revenge. Be aware, countess, one day you will be greeted with one of my friends beneath the bed sheets.”
She laughed, delighted by his somewhat playful mood after such a serious turn a few seconds past. “I think you should be more worried about my reaction.”
He arched a quizzical brow.
“I may very well burst into tears and swoon. My hysteria would last for days, and you would have to contend with my deplorable screeching atop my lungs.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She nodded most empathically. “I most assuredly would.” Then she winked. “I admit it, there are times my nerves are quite delicate.”
Tobias scowled.
“What happened to him?”
“Who?”
“The snake.”
“It was a she.”
“Your pet snake was a she?”
His eyes brightened.
“Are you teasing me, Tobias?”
Without answering he kissed her deep and hard, then slow and sensuous. When he lifted his head, they were both panting.
“The rain has stopped,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to her lips. “We ride out now.”
“I agree, but first…” She gripped his hair and tugged his mouth to hers. His head slanted, and he deepened their embrace. Heat stirred low in her belly and she twisted in his lap, eager to sit astride and relieve the ache in her center.
She rose on her knees so they pressed into his thighs.
He pulled from their kiss. “Your knees are perilously close to my manhood.”
She glanced down at the very impressive bulge, leaned in slightly, and lowered one of her hands from his nape to cup his wonderful hardness. “Is that what this is? A manhood?” she asked huskily.
“Yes.”
“A very strange name.”
“Hmmm, some call it plugtail or tallywag.”
Tallywag? Livvie dissolved into fits of laughter.
Tobias’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Find that humorous, do you?”
She nodded, mirth bringing tears to her eyes. “I absolutely refuse…plug…” She hiccupped on a laugh. “Plugtail.”
His eyes hooded. “I myself prefer cock,” he said with such dark, sensual intent she sobered, drawn by the carnal need glowing in his emerald eyes. He tugged her to him, knocking the point of her knees from his thighs, but catching her before she tumbled from his lap.
He smiled faintly and shook his head. “You tempt me, wife, to lose myself in you here and now, but we must leave. Francie needs us.”
Livvie slid from his lap, and they dressed in companionable silence. She hoped the easy camaraderie they’d formed would last. And she mentally chucked out her mother’s list. The way to her earl’s heart was not by flattering his vanity or being pretentious.
For the first time, she felt it was possible for someone to admire and love her…well, for her. She held the sweet hope filling her close inside, and prayed she wasn’t leading her reckless heart to pain and disappointment.
Chapter Fifteen
After less than an hour of hard riding, Tobias and Livvie stopped at a beautiful two-story stone cottage with a thatched roof, surrounded by lovely birch, pine, and oak trees. It looked homey, comfortable, and welcoming.
She felt dusty and travel weary, and was in need of tea. “What if Francie is not here?”
He glanced around. “She is here, I can feel it.”
“Now who is being fanciful?” she said, hoping to tease him into relaxing. His tension had climbed the closer they drew to the cottage.
He said nothing, and her stomach knotted. Hopefully then he would give Francie and Mr. Browning a credible chance to explain their decision. Tobias dismounted, strolled over, and assisted her from the horse. A crunch of boot on gravel had them turning around. A short rotund man came into view. A smile wreathed his leathery face when he spied them. “Milord, I was of a mind you would show up soon.”
Tobias’s eyes lit with pleasure. “Samuel, good to see you.” He greeted the man by hugging him close, before releasing him. “How are Glenda and the children?”
“They are right fine, milord, right fine,” the man replied with a proud smile.
“May I present my countess, Lady Blade. Samuel here taught me all I know of fishing and training horses. He and his wife are the caretakers of Rose Cottage. My sister and I have spent many summers here.”
“Your ladyship,” Samuel said with a bow. “Verra pleased to meet such a bonny lass.”
“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance as well, Samuel.”
“Is Lady Francie inside?” Tobias queried coolly.
Samuel must have detected that something was amiss, for he backed up, a look of caution settling on his face.
“Aye, with her husband, a Mr. Jasper Browning, a fine fellow, though a bit shady as to where his family is from.”
Tobias smiled and it chilled Livvie.
“Is aught amiss, milord?”
“Not at all, Samuel. I will escort my wife inside, please see the horses to the stables. They need a good rub down for they have been ridden well.”
“Yes, my lord,” the caretaker answered with a quick bow.
Tobias gripped her hand, fairly dragging her across the gravelled pathway to the entrance of the fairy-tale-like cottage. Without knocking, he opened the cottage door and gestured for her to precede him. She entered into a small hallway. There was music and muted laughter echoing from an open door to the left. Ignoring the stairs and a few more doors, Tobias moved like a stalking predator toward the revelry. Livvie followed him, and stifled her gasp at the very intimate and telling scene they encountered. Francie was seated closely beside Mr. Browning in front of the pianoforte by the win
dow, and they played together. They appeared besotted, and Livvie dearly hoped Tobias saw the mutual admiration.
“How charming,” he drawled with biting sarcasm.
Francie and Mr. Browning jerked around. She hurriedly shifted apart. “Tobias? Livvie?” she gasped, her hand fluttering to her throat. All of her earlier merriment had been wiped away. “I…I’d not expected you to follow me. How did you know I would be here?”
“You left me a note to say that you ran away with a man I am sure you have no knowledge of and expected me to let you be on your merry way with a fortune hunter?” Tobias demanded, striding inside and closing the door softly.
Mr. Browning hobbled to his feet and it was then Livvie saw he was injured. A big swathe of crème-colored bandage covered from his knee to his shin and he had to use a stick for support. He forced himself to stand, leaning heavily on his stick, but he somehow squared his shoulders, determination darkening his gaze. He was very handsome with light brown hair, gray eyes, and a very slim and elegant build. His overall countenance was sufficiently pleasing. Livvie understood how he attracted Francie, who seemed to like the poetic and romantic sorts.
“Jasper loves me, Tobias…not my connections and wealth.”
“I most assuredly do, my lord,” Mr. Browning said earnestly, lacing his fingers with Francie’s and giving her a tender smile.
Tobias did not even deign to glance in his direction, and Livvie winced in sympathy.
“A man who loves you would not have exposed you to ridicule and scandal. He would have approached me and asked for your hand in marriage,” he said. “Gather your things, we depart in an hour.”
Francie paled. “Don’t hate me, Tobias,” she said in a hushed voice, her eyes glistening with tears and distress. “I cannot leave…we are well and truly married.” A blush reddened her cheeks and she clasped her hand around her middle, the implication clear.
Mr. Browning released her and stepped forward haltingly, clenching and unclenching his fist at his side. His cheeks were flushed and caution glowed from his eyes. “My lord,” he started. “If we could speak in private as gentlemen—”
“Silence.” Tobias’s tone brooked no argument, but Livvie was gratified to see that neither Francie nor her husband was wilting under the force of his contained anger.
