by Stacy Reid
Mr. Browning took Francie’s arm in his. The love and concern on his face for her regard spoke volumes. Tobias observed them in silence, his presence dwarfing everything else in the room. Livvie badly wanted to kick his shins. Couldn’t he see how petrified and uncertain his sister was?
“Shall we ring for tea and cake or perhaps sandwiches?” Livvie asked, hoping to defuse the coiled tension.
Francie nodded eagerly and threw her a grateful glance, and assisted her husband to the sofa in the left corner, strategically away from her brother. Still ignoring Mr. Browning, Tobias walked up to the couple and caught his sister in a warm embrace, and Francie promptly burst into loud sobs.
“F-forgive me,” she gulped.
He closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of her head, stroking her back in soothing motions. “Wipe your tears, I do not like them,” he said gruffly. It was then Livvie saw the love and concern.
Francie gripped the back of his coat in a tight fist. “I never meant to disappoint you, Tobias. The scandal will be horrendous, I—”
“Let me worry about the scandal. Now dry your tears,” he ordered.
With a sniffle, Francie swiped at her cheeks. “I love him, Tobias, and he truly loves me.”
He murmured something too low for Livvie to discern and Francie nodded before producing a watery smile. Mr. Browning looked on almost helplessly, clearly wanting to be the one to comfort his weeping wife. Tobias released her and then looked at Mr. Browning, who appeared most anxious.
“Retire with me to the library. We have much to discuss.”
“Tobias, please,” Francie rushed out. “We can all meet—”
He made a sharp, slicing sweep of his hand.
She faltered, squared her shoulders, setting her lips together mutinously. “I know you, brother. I want to be privy to all conversation in regard to me and my husband. I am no longer a child. Please, let us sit here,” she entreated.
“There are things best said with Mr. Browning alone.”
Her eyes flashed, and she fisted a hand on her hip. “I will not countenance it. I am determined to be a part of all discourse.”
Tobias strolled to stand by the window overlooking a small but charming garden. He seemed tensed. Livvie’s feelings of disaster increased.
Francie hurried over to her. “Thank you for coming, Livvie, though it was not necessary.”
Livvie hugged her. “I knew you would need me, think nothing of it.”
“Did you marry in a church?” Tobias asked without shifting from where he stood.
His sister frowned, and Mr. Browning tensed, anger and something elusive but somehow menacing shifted in the depth of his eyes. Something was wrong. Livvie tugged Francie over to the pale-yellow sofa and they lowered themselves onto the cushions.
“Answer me, Francie.”
“Lady Francie is my wife,” Mr. Browning blustered. “We have been alone for a day without a chaperon,” he ended a bit smugly.
“No, Tobias. I…it was over the anvil and our vows were performed by the village’s blacksmith. We planned to be married properly when we returned to England, with your blessing, then we had the carriage accident.”
“Accident?”
“We lost a wheel on the way to Rose Cottage and Jasper was injured.”
“I love Francie, and she is my wife. Nothing you can say will rip us apart,” Mr. Browning said defiantly.
“Is she?” Tobias murmured coolly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Yes!”
“Yet you will relinquish your claim and never breathe a word as to how you spent the last twenty-four hours.”
“You cannot—”
“Or I will see you hanged,” Tobias incised ruthlessly.
Francie gasped and surged to her feet. “Tobias!”
“That’s preposterous, my lord! I have done nothing.”
“I am the Earl of Blade and it seemed you forgot that salient fact when you kidnapped my sister.”
The steward stiffened, his eyes going wide. “Kidnapped?”
“Of course. Francie is a sheltered and mild-mannered girl. She was taken advantage of by a heartless bounder who only has an interest in her fortune. You have two choices, the hangman’s noose or a press gang.”
Tobias wielded his power with awful precision and instinctively Livvie knew he was not even unleashing the full force of his personality. It was as if the air vibrated around him, so taut he was from keeping a tight leash on his temper.
“I will not be persuaded to separate from my wife!”
Tobias finally turned. “Do you not mean her fortune?”
“You are being wretched, Tobias! Jasper cares nothing for my fortune,” Francie said, hurrying to stand beside her brother. “I need you to trust me on this.”
Tobias considered her, and Livvie could see the keen regret glittering in his gaze. She braced herself, recognizing whatever he had to say would devastate his sister.
“Forgive me for the hurt I am about to cause, I would spare you this pain if I could.”
Francie wetted her lips, a nervous gesture. “I beg your pardon?”
“Did he tell you of his wife and three children in Bedfordshire?”
Tobias’s words caught Livvie sharply in the chest. Dear God, she felt faint. How could this be?
Mr. Browning went white as a sheet, and Francie stood motionless, staring at her brother incomprehensibly.
“Wife?” she muttered through bloodless lips.
Mr. Browning struggled to stand, and Tobias casually walked over and sank onto the sofa beside his steward. Tobias gripped his shin, right above the bandage and squeezed.
A hoarse scream of pain echoed from Mr. Browning, and Francie flinched.
“Do you wish to grant us privacy now?” Tobias asked her with quiet menace.
Tears glittered on her lids and she trembled, but she shook her head. “No…I need to hear this, please.”
“Darling, please…” The rest of the words strangled in Mr. Browning’s throat as Tobias applied more pressure to the wounded area.
“Did you believe I would have hired you without having you investigated? That I would have a man living under my roof, with my family, without knowing his background?”
The steward paled alarmingly and sweat beaded his brow.
“Are you already married?” Francie asked, her voice a mere whisper.
“No, I—”
Tobias bore down with pressure and the steward screamed. His leg was released and he gulped audibly.
“I was…was married but not anymore, I swear, my darling!”
“Lady Francie—you will only refer to her as Lady Francie,” Tobias murmured with such menace and barely suppressed savagery that Livvie felt discomfited. “And if you utter another lie, I will take you out back and slit your throat.”
Dear Lord.
The steward’s eyes bulged and desperation settled on his face. “Yes, yes of course, my lady, I…I am married.”
Francie swayed. Livvie rushed over to her and clasped her hands, offering silent support. She could all but feel her friend’s pain and confusion.
“And…and you have children?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
It was painful for Livvie to watch the disappointment and hurt darkening Francie’s eyes. “I cannot understand why you pursued me so ardently,” she said, tears trickling down her face. “You wrote me such beautiful poems and letters and…you are married? I cannot credit it.”
“I do not believe Mr. Browning considered a hasty marriage over the anvil a real marriage, hence he would not worry overmuch about the legality of being a bigamist.” Tobias captured the man’s eyes with his. “What was it going to be? Blackmail letter? A request from Francie for money urgently?”
Mr. Browning shot a pleading glance at Francie. “I love you, Francie, it was never about the money. It was you. My wife…she is dreadfully ill, taken over by the consumption, and she is not expected to make it. I…I…once
she passed I was going to allow for us to marry in the church in England. It was never about your wealth,” he ended hoarsely. “I admire you most ardently. I fell in love with you, and I wanted to be your husband and your protector. I could not tell you of Catherine, but I knew she would not live long and I would be free. When you suggested elopement instead of a long courtship, how could I refuse? On what grounds could I reasonably delay you without rousing your suspicion and risk losing your affections? You are my heart. Please forgive me.”
“I never want to see you again,” she said softly, tears streaming down her face.
“Please do not say that.” He struggled to rise from the chair and Tobias stood and rested a hand on Mr. Browning’s left shoulder. It appeared a casual touch, but from the strain on the steward’s face, Livvie knew Tobias was rendering some hurt.
“You are a heartless bounder to pursue me so ardently when you knew your heart was engaged and it was impossible for you to wed another. Your wife is ill…dying, your children left alone to face such a burden.” There was bleak desperation in Francie’s eyes. “You are not the man I thought you were…you were never that man.”
On a sob, she hurried from the room. At the door, she halted and shifted to face Tobias. “I…I am so deeply sorry. I was so very foolish. I thought…I truly believed he loved and respected me. Oh, Tobias, the scandal will be horrifying.”
“There will be no scandal,” he said, cold purpose echoing in his tone. “No one in England truly knows and I will deal with those who are aware here. I promise you, not a word of this mishap will be uttered.”
She nodded, trust glowing in her eyes. “I…we…” Pink bloomed on her cheeks. “He kissed me a few times, but we never consummated our farce of a marriage. I wanted to wait until we were wed in the church before…and then the accident and…”
“I understand, Francie, say no more.”
She inhaled deeply. “I must. We planned together to say we had been intimate when we returned and ask for your blessing to wed in a church. It was wrong of me to imply when you arrived that I might be increasing. I am deeply regretful, please forgive me.”
Tobias nodded, his eyes dark with unnamed emotions.
“Do you desire my company?” Livvie asked, stepping forward, concern curling through her at the wounded look in her friend’s eyes.
“Please, no, I wish to be alone. I will retire to my room.” Then she fled as if the devil was on her heels.
The silence that remained was painful and the unblinking gaze with which her husband was watching Mr. Browning did not bode well.
“You will disappear from Francie’s life. Either you go to the West Indies with an escort of mine, or your body will be found on the road heading north. Your choice.”
In that moment, Tobias scared her, for she could see the chilling resolve within him. He was quite capable of killing his steward. “Tobias, I—”
He glanced at her, and his face was etched in a hard, unforgiving manner. “Mr. Browning and I have much to discuss, countess. I would appreciate your discretion at this moment.”
Livvie hesitated, and then with a nod, exited. Could she have prevented all this heartache? Was it really her wild heart that had influenced Francie to be so reckless? Would Tobias forgive her?
Chapter Sixteen
Moonlight bathed the land in an ethereal glow. From the window of their small but tastefully furnished chamber, Livvie watched Tobias with utmost discreetness. She did not want him to know she ogled him in such a blatant and wanton manner. It had only been a few hours since he had booted Mr. Browning from their lives.
Tobias had been generous enough to offer him a place at one of his estates in the West Indies as the steward. Mr. Browning could take his family to Jamaica, and perhaps the sun and lack of England’s cruel winters may give his wife a chance of life. Livvie also surmised her earl wanted the man as far away from England and from his sister as possible. But he had been generous indeed, for with his wealth and undeniable influence he could have sentenced the steward to the press gang or worse, death, and not an eyelash would flicker. Tobias had then announced there was no scandal, and they would treat it as a jaunt to Scotland and nothing more.
A simple dinner of baked trout and potatoes was had, and after several minutes of strained conversation, Francie fled in tears. Tobias had been bitingly polite as he excused himself and disappeared from the cottage.
It was after Livvie had taken a bath and was perched by the window that she had seen him in the distance, stripped to the waist, his feet dancing lightly, his hands punching and jabbing the air as he boxed with an unseen opponent in a primal rhythm. Need stirred hot and deep inside as she observed the play of muscles across his back and shoulders. Her husband was a powerfully made man, a gorgeous one. To look at him was immensely pleasurable and tenderness stirred in her heart.
He spun gracefully and her breath hitched. Did he see her? His hands flowed, and the expanse of his chest twisted like a snake as he moved to an invisible rhythm. Acting on impulse, she shrugged on her riding coat, and slipped her feet into slippers and hurried down the stairs. The cottage was silent, and only the crackle of the fireplace in the small drawing room could be heard. She headed through the kitchen and opened the latch on the backdoor and clambered down a few cobbled steps. Livvie moved carefully through a small back garden and around to the glen where she had spied Tobias. She faltered when, as she broke the corner, they came face-to-face.
“I…hello,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
He was silent, watching her with icy green eyes.
“Wife.”
Her eyes took in the light sheen of sweat on his skin, the beauty of his body, his appealing maleness. “You are quite magnificent, husband.” The brutal power of his body, all muscle and sinew, was the most appealing image she had ever seen. Her fingers itched for a paintbrush and canvas to capture the raw, beautiful imagery of her husband. “I want to paint you,” she said huskily. “Just like this.” Livvie trailed her fingers over his chest.
He stared at her, seemingly transfixed, and he didn’t make a sound.
She moved closer to him. “What is it that you are practicing?”
At first, she thought he would ignore her, then he exhaled and tugged her to him.
“Boxing.”
He spun, his movements so fluid and graceful, so that she was facing away from him and her back nestled against his chest. He dipped his head and inhaled at her neck, and her heart tripped in pleasure.
“Whenever I…I feel with too much intensity, I find a quiet place and I practice.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Will you teach me?”
She felt his smile against her.
“Perhaps,” he murmured.
He shaped her fingers so that she spread her hands wide with his. Tobias pushed her forward and flowed in a rhythm, controlling her movements. It felt natural to dip with him, to allow him to lead her in the gentle but somehow sensual and provocative movements.
“I feel as if we are dancing,” she said softly.
They moved together for a few minutes until her motions seemed more fluid. She tipped her head to the night sky, the chill in the air forgotten as a slow burn started to build in her blood. She felt relaxed and stirred in the same breath. “Have you forgiven Francie?”
“Is there truly anything to forgive?”
“Perhaps not. It is sad she is so heartbroken. I could hear her weeping from her chamber. It takes bravery to go against family and society’s expectation for love.”
He sighed.
“No blistering retort declaring that love is nonsense?”
He spun her to face him. “No. There is something between my sister and Mr. Browning. Is it love? I do not know. When I first saw them in the parlor, a part of me wished I could leave them be. Even though I wanted to crush him for the heartache I knew she would endure. I desperately wished his circumstances had changed in the three years since I hired him, as I realized Francie would be content
to live with him here for the rest of their lives.”
“The poor misguided fool,” Livvie said softly.
“He wept when I informed him he could never see my sister or speak with her again, he wept unashamedly,” Tobias murmured.
“And…and how will the scandal be weathered?”
“As how I’ve weathered all of them since I understood the cogs that kept society turning. With power, influence, and a good deal of thick hide.”
She rested the side of her face against his chest. “And I shall weather it with you.”
“I am glad you came with me.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I am certain If I had been alone, I would have beaten Mr. Browning to a pulp and then discarded his body somewhere,” he said lightly.
“And I am certain you are underestimating your honor. I do not think you have to fear from your temper. The very fact that you want to guard others against your anger, speaks much of your character.”
He framed her face with his powerful hands and tugged her closer. He kissed her thoroughly, and Livvie responded with helpless greed, desire roaring though her veins. He lifted her with easy strength, walking through the beaten-down path to the back door of the cottage, never releasing her from his drugging and somewhat violent kisses. Sensations cascaded through her quickly and so intensely she quaked in his arms. Somehow they reached their chamber, and he tumbled her to the bed with a satisfied groan that reverberated to the core of her.
She ached so desperately. With swift motions, he stripped her until she was gloriously naked, then he eased from her and removed his trousers and for the first time, she got a perfect look at her husband from the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the windows. He was so physically arresting her breath seized.
He came over her, blanketing her body with his, nudging her thighs apart. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him even closer. Livvie savored the feel of his hard, sleek muscles underneath the tips of her fingers. Hunger twisted through her veins, hardening her nipples to painful points.
“How I want you, Tobias. Kiss me.”
