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“You have my word, Olivia.”
Relief filled her. “Thank you. My stepfather and mother are eager to speak with you…with us.”
“I will be there shortly.”
Still, there was something bothering her. She searched his eyes. “Why were you in the closet?”
An awkward silence ensued.
“Is it important to know?”
Livvie frowned. “No, I am but curious.”
“My former lover wanted me to pursue her by searching my chambers, the gazebo, and the closet. It is a lover’s game we had indulged in before. For some reason she thought it was appropriate here. She thought wrong.”
Her eyes widened. “You thought I was her?”
“Only for a second.”
A thought occurred to her. “Do you expect me to play such games?”
“Good God, no.”
She was affronted at his appalled tone. “And why not? Do you not believe I am adventurous?”
He arched an imperious brow. “Are we going to argue?”
Livvie chuckled. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, ignoring his surprised inhalation. She slipped from the cage of his arms, and hurried down the hallway to the drawing room feeling quite happy indeed about their upcoming nuptials.
…
The meeting with Lady Olivia’s parents had been as Tobias had expected. There was no anger or recriminations, only hearty congratulations and well wishes from Lord and Lady Bathhurst. Speculation had been rife in their gazes, but of course, they had been too polite to question if there had been any impropriety. A few brows had been raised when he informed everyone he was in the process of obtaining a special license, and Olivia had blushed furiously.
After an hour of tea and pleasantries, Tobias was now alone with the viscount in the library, finalizing the marriage contract. The viscount had a frown on his face, and Tobias surmised he was at the section that included his stepdaughter’s demands.
He met Tobias’s gaze with a grimace. “Livvie has her own opinions and isn’t afraid to voice them,” he murmured.
Tobias reclined in his chair in a deliberately casual pose. “So I’ve discovered.”
“And what will you do with your…discovery?”
“There is nothing to be done.”
“Many men would say she is unruly, headstrong, and disobedient. In need of a firm guiding hand.”
Was the man trying to persuade him to call off the rushed engagement? “Olivia is not a horse and I am not other men.”
Speculation swirled in the Viscount’s eyes. “No, you are not. Then what would you say she is?”
“A bit reckless and high-spirited, a brilliant painter, intelligent, witty, and quite stubborn.”
“And this does not…dissuade you?”
His lips twitched. “No.” It should have, but instead he was frustratingly enticed. He would have to be careful he did not lose himself to her. It would have been palatable if he were only roused sexually. But what if she tugged at his jealously? His rage? What if he lost control with her or because of her? Never had he worried about being reckless with another woman before, but it was as if her willful nature tempted him to be more…relaxed with his feelings and tempers.
Dangerous.
Tobias’s mother was beautiful, high-strung, and had been very reckless in her younger days. His father had fought several duels for her, sometimes the offense had simply been another man staring for a little longer than what was deemed proper. His mother, of course, had gloried in the scandals and the passionate possessiveness of her husband. What she had not realized was that his father’s possessive jealousy would bloom into him using his fists or riding crop against her whenever he succumbed to his fits of rage.
