I can only hope when I do return, whether it is weeks or years from now, that we will have a pleasant and amicable marriage.
Your wife,
Livvie
A swell of emptiness rose inside of him, expanded and filled every crevice of his being. His wife had left him. God’s blood.
He forced himself onward at the sound of several footsteps behind him. The words of her letter replayed in his mind until cold, blessed numbness replaced the hollow, empty feeling.
…
Five days later, Tobias wondered if he should make a report to the runners of his countess’s disappearance. He’d sent grooms and messengers to his various estates across England and Scotland and she was not in residence at any of his properties. She had vanished with no report as to when and how.
Where would his wife have gone? With what money? Was she safe? No one was missing save her maid, along with one of his swordsticks and a pistol, and her packet of books. The fear he had been suppressing reared its head viciously.
God, please…let her be safe. Where are you, Olivia?
He spent the days writing and the nights prowling the house, hoping she would reappear. It tormented him that his wife was out there, alone, hurting, and with no knowledge of how much he truly admired her.
A fist slammed into his side, and he hardly flinched from the pain, instead he danced away on light feet from the jab aimed at his eyes.
His brother halted on the mat, panting. “You are distracted.”
Tobias inhaled, stripping the thin leather straps from his hands. “Is it safe to say our sparring is done for today?”
“I give up,” Grayson snapped, throwing his hand in the air. “I have held my silence, but in good conscience I can no longer do so. What in God’s name is going on?”
Tobias rotated his shoulders and went over to the table and grabbed a towel and raked it over his sweating skin. He and Grayson had been sparring for some time now. Tobias’s muscles ached and sweat ran in rivulets down his forehead, but he still wanted a more strenuous activity. Peace seemed to elude him. All he could think about was Olivia. It infuriated him that he was so weak. Were these the emotions his father felt for Mother, the ones that led him down his path of ruin?
“Why do you believe something to be amiss?” he demanded, as he and Grayson left the room and headed to the library, where he entered and sank into the high winged-back chair near the window, uncaring of his sweaty body.
With a scowl, Grayson dropped into the seat opposite Tobias. “You have been in Town now for three full weeks without your countess. Every effort I have made to enquire about Olivia has been thwarted. And now all I have been hearing of in the clubs is ‘the Quarrel.’ Bets have been placed in the books at White’s as to how long it will last for. Good God, man, I would never have imagined you to be embroiled in a scandal of such magnitude and seem so…so…unperturbed.”
His brother sounded flabbergasted, a state Tobias would admit he had been in since his wife left him. He felt hollowed even admitting it to himself. Tobias considered his brother. “My countess is not your concern.”
“Something is bloody well my concern. Do you think I have not noticed that you have hardly slept for the last few days? You’ve holed yourself up in the library, writing for hours on end. Dozens of callers are turned away every day. Does ‘the Quarrel’ have anything to do with the fact that Lady Blade challenged your former mistress to a duel? Olivia has been declared an original for her boldness and has become the rage. All the ladies of quality are banding together to form a society, a women’s club of sorts to protect their husbands from the harlots in society. It’s anarchy. The other lords are blaming you for not having a firm hand on your countess and all the ladies are celebrating her actions.”
A tight feeling twisted in his chest. “The ton is simply looking for fodder for the gossip mill.”
“This is more, brother. As a countess, Livvie has the potential to be a powerful force in society if they accept her. It is quite shocking to admit Livvie is more of a celebrity admired by women of all walks of society. There was a piece in the Gazette, which reported on the designs she wore her hair in weeks ago and the fashionable styles and bold colors she wore. It was humorously remarked that her eccentricity should have warned your mistress of your wife’s temperament.” Grayson frowned. “And the rampant rumors that you lifted her from the ballroom last Friday night and vanished with her?”
“It happened.”
Grayson’s eyes widened, and he gaped. “Where is my brother and what have you done with him?”
Tobias smiled, though he was not amused. “I find I am perplexingly unconcerned about our societal images.”
His brother appeared dazed. “Then what are you concerned with?”
“My wife’s tears.”
The fact that she left me, the truth that I ache to see her dazzling smile. The very memory of her tear-filled eyes gutted him, made him want to find her and hold her until she wept out every pain and frustration against him and then make love to her for an entire night. God, he missed her.
“And you’ve been holed up writing?” Grayson demanded, his gaze flicking to the pile of paper spread out on the oak desk. “I daresay the rumors hinting of a separation are more important than whatever you’re scribbling.”
At Tobias’s icy glare, Grayson snapped, “I’ve heard of a possible separation directly from Viscountess Wimple, who heard it from her lady’s maid, who heard it from her cousin, who is a footman at your estate!”
Tobias glanced down at the sheets on his desk, wondering what his brother would say if he knew every word Tobias had written was inspired by Olivia. He could do nothing without images of her dominating his mind. At night, he smelled her on the sheets even though she had never been in their town house. He heard her laughter in the hallway and like a madman dashed outside searching for her. Several days ago, his butler had looked at him as if he were afflicted. And maybe he was, because Tobias was damn well craving her, even knowing the danger she presented to his control. But did it truly matter?
“I almost beat a man to death.”
Grayson inhaled sharply. “What? And when did this happen?”
Tobias allowed himself to slouch down in the chair and sprawled his legs wide. “Olivia’s stepbrother attacked her. Instead of coming to me, she sought to defend her own honor. When I realized what was happening, I went to his estate and was almost too late. I lost control, Grayson. For the first time I can remember, I cared not a jot about scandal and its repercussion. I wanted to call him out and put a bullet through his heart. I am just like Father and all the other Blade men before him. Reckless and dangerous. My actions have haunted me, for I had the full intention of ensuring his demise, but the men I had watching him reported of his departure to Scotland.”
There was a pulse of silence.
“But you did not kill him, you stopped.”
“I wanted to. He hurt her,” he said softly.
“Any reasonable man would have lost their temper, Tobias. Hell, if someone attacked the woman I love, I would kill the bastard.”
His gut tightened. Did he love Olivia? Tobias scrubbed a hand over his face. The unrelenting ache he had for her inside, was it love, or reckless obsession like his father had possessed for his mother? “It’s dangerous how she makes me feel.”