“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 notorious 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.”