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Bile coated Tobias’s tongue and his gut clenched when he remembered the visceral reaction he’d had earlier, when Olivia had merely suggested being in another man’s arms to make a point.
He launched from the chair and walked over to the windows. His promise to break any man who would dare touch her had been instinctive and appalling. He had done everything in his power to show an unaffected mien to his ridiculous assertions, but he had been disturbed, for surely he had sounded as demented as his father, who always vowed to his wife to defend her honor by crushing whoever dared.
God’s blood.
Olivia was the wrong type of woman to marry. His gut and brain knew it, but his blasted body and honor had other ideas.
“Is everything well, Blade?” the Viscount queried.
Tobias nodded, watching the many carriages pulling away down the long driveway. He had dismissed all the guests to his mother’s distress, ending the house party days earlier than had been originally intended. He did not care. The guests were nosy gossipers and he felt like he was a bug under a microscope in his own home. He would not have it. Worse, he’d fielded veiled insinuations from several gentlemen. He’d done the right thing by sending in the engagement announcement to the papers this morning. By tomorrow, all of England would be agog with the news, the scandal would spread, and the furor would begin. But none of it would be under his roof.
The viscount moved to stand beside him. “Livvie has made a sound match by aligning with your family, and I could not have hoped for her to do better,” Bathurst said.
Tobias made no answer.
The man inhaled. “I know of your reputation, Blade. You are not a man to trifle with, and I know you can be ruthless in your business dealings. Outside of that, I have no knowledge of you.”
Tobias shifted and faced the viscount.
Worry glowed in the man’s eyes and his hands were fisted at his side. “Why is there a need for a special license? Her mother had always envisioned a particular wedding for Livvie.”
Tobias hesitated. “It is best we wed sooner than later.”
Knowledge flared in the viscount’s eyes and he froze for a few seconds before he spoke, “Your honor does you credit. I love her as my own. I would like your promise that you will treat her kindly, Blade.”
He nodded. “You will have nothing to worry about once she is my wife.”
Lord Bathhurst inhaled softly. “Your father—”
“I am not my father,” Tobias said with chilling softness. He knew what the viscount was about to hint at. The rumors that had floated in society of his father’s volatile tempers, the many nights he had dragged his wife from a ball with the ton watching in horrified glee.
“I know it is the law but I will not countenance you beating Livvie.”
Cold anger sliced through his blood.
The viscount tugged at his cravat. “I meant no insult but the stories about your father—”
“I will not say this again, Bathhurst. I am not my father.”
The memory of his father’s riding crop biting into his mother’s skin roiled through Tobias. His mother’s screams had echoed through the house and all of the servants had been scared to speak out or act in her defense. He glanced at his hand. He had been without thought and conscience as he had mercilessly beaten his father. Then he had acted with even worse disregard of others when he’d marched to the town house of his mother’s lover, raw with anger, and challenged him to a duel.
Christ.
The very memory had his stomach twisting in painful knots. He needed to get on the exercise mat and have a good round of boxing until he found his center calm. It would be necessary in the upcoming days.
“I will protect your daughter and cherish the gift you are relinquishing to me, Bathhurst,” Tobias said smoothly. “If you will excuse me, there are matters I must attend to.” He nodded to the papers in the man’s hands. “I trust all is well?”
“It is,” the viscount said.
“Good. You and your viscountess are invited to stay until after the wedding. Make yourself completely at home. The lake is teeming with fish.”
With a polite nod, he exited the library, eager to spar with Grayson and releas
e the tension building in his gut. What in damnation had he signed up for? And why, amidst the uncertainty, was he feeling such a profound sense of eager anticipation?
Chapter Twelve
Four days after losing her virtue to Tobias, Livvie was the Countess of Blade. She pinched herself again, yet she did not jerk from a dream. She was indeed married to Tobias and had been for exactly nine hours. After her parents had descended on Grangeville Park, everything had moved with shocking speed. He had insisted on a small, intimate wedding in the estate’s chapel. She had understood the urgency, especially under the circumstances.
