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The footman who had delivered it stared straight ahead.
The anger snapping through his veins was unnerving in its intensity. Tobias had no mood for one of Arabella’s sexual escapades tonight. Damn her stubborn hide. What game was she now playing? To think she would flagrantly disregard his position on the matter. The fact that his mother was not wailing and demanding an explanation from him meant she must not yet be aware his mistress was currently under the same roof as her.
Knowing Arabella, she would truly remain hidden until he came or a servant discovered her and some nonsensical commotion would ensue. He should grab hold of her and throw her out on her damn backside. He had no time for deceptive and manipulative games. He would end their liaison. Tonight.
Chapter Eight
Livvie slipped up the stairs, relieved to escape the crush of the ball and even more excited to return to her book. Though it was after one in the morning, she would read at least a chapter or two before
retiring for the night. With a soft sigh, she reached the landing and paused as she swore she saw Tobias strolling down the hallway. Her heart leaped. His chamber was on the other side of the manor. What was he doing in the west wing? Should she engage him in conversation?
Dancing with him had been so thrilling. Disappointment had pierced her when the waltz had ended and he had drifted away in the crowd. Stupidly, she’d wanted to remain in his arms and enjoy at least another dance. Several times, his mouth had curved into a smile that made her want to lean in and lick his lips. No doubt if she acted on the desire in private it would confirm all the unladylike ideas he had about her.
Livvie hurried along the corridor to catch up to him, and slowed her steps when she saw him pause at the door of a linen closet. Instinctively, she flushed herself against the wall and stepped into a pocket of shadows. She frowned when he looked left, then right, before opening the door and slipping inside. What was he doing? Livvie was intrigued.
Maybe she had been mistaken that it was Tobias. She hurried to the door and lifted a hand to knock. She bit her lip, feeling silly. So what if the earl wanted to hide himself away in a linen closet? It was his house. What was worse was the desire she had to enquire if he was well…or if he wanted company. Not to be in the closet but company to talk. Making a decisive decision, she knocked once on the door. “Tobias?”
Then she held her breath.
There was no answer. Feeling ridiculous, she turned to leave. The door was wrenched open and an arm circled her waist and pulled her into the darkened room. Before she could squeak, a hand clamped over her lips.
“What are you doing here and why would you send me such a note?” It was the rough annoyed voice of the earl that prevented Livvie from turning and raising her knees to his man parts. It was truly Tobias. In a linen closet? No doubt he had intended an assignation. A shocking thing for sure. He was so coldly arrogant and proper she had not expected that. She bit down hard against his palm and felt gratified to hear his pained curse. His hand lifted from her mouth.
“Why did you draw me in here…and who did you think I was?” she snapped, painfully aware of how close they stood, of his heat against her body. It took all of her willpower to not melt into his firm body.
“Lady Olivia?” The shock in his voice was profound.
“Yes,” she answered a bit smugly, pleased to have rattled his constitution, albeit unintentionally.
Her pleasure was swiftly stifled under the virulent curses that sprang from his lips. Her cheeks burned and unwanted tears pricked behind her lids. She knew he did not like her, but not that much.
“Let’s go,” he muttered roughly and opened the door.
He stepped into the hallway, dragging her behind him, and then froze. Loud voices carried from the corridor, and with another harsh curse he pushed her back in the closet and closed the door.
“Release me,” she muttered, thoroughly vexed with his reaction. He had planned to meet someone else in the closet. So it wasn’t the situation he was averse to…but her! The swift pain that pinched her heart, angered her even more. She made to leave, but strong arms gripped her hips, effectively halting her.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
“I am leaving. I certainly do not wish to pain you further with my unwanted presence. Not that I invited myself to this…this…tryst!”
He stiffened, and Livvie wished she were able to make out his features. She could only smell his warm masculine fragrance, feel his vitality, and she resented the curious hunger it roused.
“I did not plan a tryst,” he said stiffly.
As if she would believe such an assertion. “Then why are you skulking inside the closet?”
“In the event it had escaped your notice, I am in my home.”
“And?”
“One cannot skulk in their own house.” His voice was exasperated.
“If you are hiding in the closet, and not partaking in a tryst, you are indeed skulking.”
She narrowed her eyes at the soft amused laugh that puffed from him. First she had horrified him and now she was the butt of his amusement? “Unhand me, Lord Blade.”
“You cannot leave, there are guests in the corridor.”
