“Be ready within the hour, wife.”
He grabbed a cane from his armoire, and strode from the room, no doubt heading to the stables.
She hurriedly rang the bell for her lady’s maid.
Exactly an hour after the news of Francie’s elopement, Livvie was packed lightly but sensibly for a trip to Scotland. Her hair had been plaited in a very tight coronet and she dressed in her finest and most practical riding habit with a pleated skirt, comfortable sturdy riding boots, and a dark blue velvet over jacket. She hurried down to the stables to see two of the most magnificent stallions in the earl’s stables saddled and ready. Tobias was already seated atop his horse.
“You are allowing me to ride Arius?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at his fittings. “Astride?”
“I have observed you riding several times, you are a capable rider.”
She fisted a hand on her hip. “Capable?”
“In truth, I have never seen a better horsewoman.”
Pleasure warmed her. “Thank you, Tobias.”
He launched from his horse and strolled over to her. He took the small valise and secured it at the back of her horse, then gripped her waist and helped her astride. “Are you comfortable?”
She smiled, happy he was not cold or snarling. If he was still angry, it was carefully buried. “I am.”
The housekeeper hurried outside with a tightly wrapped bundle. She handed it to Livvie.
“Just something to tide you over milady. Bread, cheese, a few apples, and a flask of wine.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Potter,” Livvie said warmly, and the housekeeper glowed.
After ensuring the food was properly secured, she grabbed Arius’s reins and cantered off, following Tobias. She said a swift prayer, hoping they would indeed find Francie and her lover at the Rose Cottage. She didn’t want to think of how Tobias would react if they didn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
Lust was making a mockery out of his will to be in control in all aspects of his life with his new countess. Tobias never imagined he could be so…well, weak with a female. This did not bode well for the future state of their marriage. He rode ahead on his horse, not trusting himself to ride alongside her.
Somehow during their argument, he had deemed it safer for his wife to accompany him in retrieving his sister. Olivia had not manipulated him with tears and tantrums. Instead, she had only been kind. She had been worried about Francie, a sentiment he shared only too well. He’d finally realized she would need the comfort of a woman, especially if the bounder had seduced and abandon her, as most cads in society did to the young ladies they preyed on.
Tobias had been at a loss where to start his search, only knowing to head to Gretna Green first. Hopefully a few coins tossed here and there would provide a trail as to where she had headed with his steward. He feared it was already too late to prevent the marriage, but by God if they traveled without stopping, they should make it to Rose Cottage before their consummation of the vow.
Tobias thought of the possible scandals and the influence he would have to exert to protect Francie. She would be cut by all who had called her their friend and she would no longer be welcomed in any drawing room. He wondered if she had even considered the full consequences of her actions before she decided to elope. It was damn likely not, for no doubt she had convinced herself she was acting with her bloody heart. Stupid chit. What in God’s name had she been thinking? Tobias fought down his rising uneasiness. Nothing good was ever accomplished by giving into rash emotions.
There was a clatter of hooves and his countess appeared beside him. He fished his watch from the top pocket of his coat. Olivia had managed to last two hours riding in silence. He was impressed. He glanced at her and softly sucked in a breath. She glowed. It was then he realized she was in her element. In the ballroom she had seemed so restricted, but now…a smile bloomed on her lips, her posture on the horse was one of supreme confidence, and there was joy in her face. A yearning to truly know her welled within him. “Tell me about your father.”
She shot him a startled glance. “My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I am curious about you.”
Her eyes widened. “I am not sure if the best place to start is with Papa.”
“I find that we tend to be defined by the actions of our fathers. So I say it is a good place to start.”
“Do you speak from experience?
He exhaled slowly. “I do.”
She considered him for a brief moment. “My father was the Baron Harcourt, and I am sure you know the scandal surrounding his name.”
“From time to time I may hear rumors, but I do not listen to them.”
One of her shoulders lifted in an inelegant shrug. “Papa did not love my mother. He married her because she was an heiress and he needed her money. He gambled and whored it away,” she said bluntly. “He met someone he loved dearly. They had an affair. When her husband threatened to take her children if she did not end the affair, she agreed. He killed himself,” she ended flatly. “And he left me and Mamma to face his debts and the horrid scandal alone. According to the ton, I have the taint of his blood in my veins.”
Tobias considered the manner in which her fingers clenched and unclenched on the reins.
“Do you have good memories?” he asked softly, remembering each time someone asked of his father, they had only desired to hear the worst, not the good that had been present. Good memories never made for salacious and ruinous gossip.
A shadow crossed her face. “I…I loved him,” she said defiantly. “And there are days when I feel I still do.”
He arched a brow. “It is usual for one to love their father. Mine was a reckless libertine, a wastrel, and yet, for years, I wanted to emulate him.” He’d never said that aloud to anyone in his life.
The horses slowed to a more even canter and her thighs brushed against his as they rode with companionable ease. It was peaceful, and he was suddenly glad for her company. The last thing he desired in this moment was to be in his own head, imagining the varied ways he would gut his steward. Perhaps burying his body in an isolated cave, except surely his family would want his remains to bury.
“My father taught me to ride, fish, swim, and the rudiments of fencing,” she finally said wistfully. “Papa never regretted that he did not have a son. He treated me like I was cherished, and I was allowed to run wild, though most of the neighbors complained. Of course, if I had been a boy, my behavior would not have been considered outrageous. He simply loved me for me.”
“He sounds admirable.”
She stiffened, pain darkening her pale catlike eyes. “He was…he was wonderful and a hero in my eyes, until…until he left us. The pain of his betrayal overshadowed everything else in our lives for months, years,” she said, her breath hitching on a soft sob.
He nudged his horse even closer to hers. Her eyes were red, and if he was not mistaken, she was valiantly holding on to her tears. Regret soured his tongue. “Forgive my questions, Olivia, you do not have to speak of it. I can see it still pains you.”
She tossed her head. “I am well. Now you tell me of your father.”
It was his turn to be discomfited. “My father was jealous and obsessed with my mother.”