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 suffocating. 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.