“Tobias,” she gasped.
He was powerless to stop what was happening to him, and in that moment, he knew he would never be able to live with her. She made him lose all reason, all sense of his self and control. With her, he had no idea who he was and it chilled his soul.
“I love you,” she cried, convulsing on his cock and bathing him in her scalding wetness.
He froze, unable to release, for he lingered on those three words.
“How I love you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his neck.
She unraveled him and he gave a harsh cry and froze as he spent inside her. Tobias gently pulled from her and straightened her clothes. His hands trembled and he stilled, glaring at them. How was it that he was unable to be detached with her? From the moment she had entered his life, everything had been different, more turbulent. Nothing was calm.
They straightened themselves in silence, and he considered her bent head.
“When you ran from me earlier…were you afraid?” The question had haunted him the minute she fled. Everything had become dark and painful, and he had recalled the fear his mother felt when his father got angry. It had gutted him that he could have driven his wife to feel a similar emotion.
“No.”
He searched her eyes for the truth and he was reassured by what he saw. “Good.”
He turned and whistled, and a few seconds later, the horse broke through the cover. “Ride him home.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Shall we ride together?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I need to be alone.”
Her eyes widened. “Tobias, I—”
“No, countess. Since I’ve met you, I have no idea who I am. You tie me in knots and the feelings are not pleasant. For the first time in my life, I truly believe I am just like my father. I felt everything when I realized you were in a room alone with your stepbrother. Unreasonable jealousy, possessiveness, rage. Before you, I’ve only experienced a shadow of such feelings.”
“I love you,” she said softly.
Once again, everything inside of him jolted at the words. Then his heart started a furious rhythm. He recalled her utterance that love was patient and kind. The violent emotions she roused in his heart, his obsessive need to brand her with his touch and kisses, felt no semblance of kindness or patience. He forced himself back under control.
“Do you have any affections for me?” she ask boldly, as was her way, jutting her chin, and damn if she was not staring him down.
“No.”
She flinched.
“What I feel for you is beyond affection. At the crest of each dawn I think of being inside of you. I write and you crowd my thoughts. I sleep and you are the last person I think of, and damn me if when I wake, you are not the first person I fucking look for. I think that borders on obsession wife, not mere affection.”
“Tobias, I—”
“I wanted to kill William for touching you. In fact, he may be walking in London sometime in the future and meet his demise with a footpad.”
She gasped.
“You are dangerous to me, wife.”
“No, I am not,” she said most earnestly.
“I am leaving Grangeville Park.”
She froze, indecisions flaring in her eyes. “For Town?”
“Yes.”
“Shall I pack?”
“No.”
He could see the pulse fluttering wildly in her throat.
“I see.”
What did she see, exactly? Did she understand he needed to shore up his resolve and that it was impossible to do that in her presence? Would she understand that he felt out of sorts, so unlike himself, as if someone else had invaded his body and it was all because of her? No, and he would not burden her with his feelings, he would simply exorcise her and return to the man he was at peace with.
The man he had been before he lost his damn senses inside that linen closet.
…
Hours later, Livvie was unable to sleep. Kicking the twisted sheets from her legs in frustration, she launched from the bed. Marching to the armoire, she selected a simple gown and dressed herself. She headed to the room that she had converted to a painting studio, desperate to hold a brush in her hand. A few minutes later, she opened the door to the studio, calm filling her by simply being surrounded by her work.
Glancing through the window, she spied the sunrays as dawn broke. She wanted to ride across the mews to the grotto she had discovered and pour her confusion into painting, but the overcast sky warned her it was best to stay indoors. Livvie donned an apron, left the chilly studio, and strolled down the hallway to the parlor, grateful to see that a fire was already lit there. She arranged her easel and sheets toward the windows and then drew the drapes. The beauty of the rolling lawn stole her breath. Today, she would lose herself in painting, and nothing else. Perhaps something good would come from it, and she could send a few pieces to the shop she sold through in London and hopefully they would be snatched up as her other works had been.
She sat down, carefully opened her box, and started to paint. There was a knock on the parlor door, and Livvie reluctantly shifted her concentration from the easel. A quick glance at the pocket watch showed she had been painting for four hours.
“Yes?”
The door opened and in strolled Francie.
“Oh, Livvie,” Francie said softly, rushing over. “Does your apparent misery have anything to do with Tobias departing for town?”
Her heart cracked. Memories of the many fights between her parents surfaced and her father’s subsequent actions surfaced. “Do you suppose this means he will soon take a mistress?” she asked hoarsely.
“Livvie!” Francie snapped, fisting her hands on her hips. “Tobias would never dishonor you so.”
Livvie laughed without humor. “He has left for an unmentioned duration for Town. It seems the very thought of living with me is unbearable. Any gentleman as passionate as your brother would surely find it impossible to do without the more intimate areas of companionship after several weeks of estrangement from his wife.”
Shock slackened her friend’s jaw, and she stood speechless.
“Your fight was…”
“Terrible,” Livvie supplied with a smile that wobbled. “I own I was reckless and foolhardy, but I thought I was protecting him from potential scandal. Instead it seems I made a muck of it, and then he made an even worse muck. Now we again hate each other, and I fear I may never regain his good opinion. It enrages me that I so desperately want it and his adoration.”
“Tell me what happened,” Francie demanded.
As fast as possible, Livvie relayed the dreadful happenings.
“William attacked you?” Francie gasped, sinking onto the sofa.
“Yes.”
“And you challenged him to a duel? Then Tobias came and…and…beat him?” she said incredulously.
“Yes,” Livvie snapped.
“I cannot credit your assertions. Tobias would never fight or duel or act so scandalously.”
“He did, and he hates me for it,” she said on a sob.
“Oh, he must love you so much,” Francie breathed in wonderment.
Livvie froze, even her heart felt as if it had stilled. “Love? Are you afflicted?”
Her mind churned in confusion, and what felt like hope blasted through her. She surged to her feet and started pacing. Love? Then she scoffed at the very notion. A man in love did not abandon his wife.