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. Sudden 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.”
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.