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Francie gripped her hand. “Have you decided which estate to depart to?”
“No!”
“Select one, go there, and give him time. It may take several months, but I believe he will realize how much he adores you and—”
“You expect me to leave my home?” She tugged her hand away and fisted one on her hip.
“I—”
“I will not run with my tail tucked between my legs, nor will I mope and cry and suffer my heart to break more every day. I love your infuriating brother, more than I dreamed possible, but I will not allow such sentiments to…to…” She caught her breath on a frustrated sigh. After taking a deep breath, she continued, “The Season is in full swing and I will be traveling to Town.”
“You are expressly disobeying him, Livvie. I do not think that is the way to win over Tobias.”
Livvie steeled her resolved. “Who said anything about winning him over? I aim to show my earl that I will not wilt away without him, and if he adores me as you say, then he will recognize my worth. If he does not, then to hell with him,” she said with a satisfied nod. Then she swept from the parlor, determined to heal her heart and not remain broken.
Though deep inside, she felt it was false bravado at best.
…
Livvie had been in London for two weeks, and her husband was quite aware. He had made no effort to call on her, and she would not visit the town house, though secretly she desired reconciliation.
“I thought you had determined to be merry,” the duchess of Wolverton murmured to Livvie.
She smiled, desperately wanting the ache inside to vanish forever. The fight between her and Tobias had been wretched, and their days apart only reinforced how unsuited they were for each other. Except…she missed the dratted man, and was irrevocably in love with him.
Despite enduring such tempestuous passion for him, she wo
uld not seek him out in Town. He had left her…after everything they had shared. And it had occurred to her how silly she had been in trusting that he would always be there. How silly she had been to easily abandon her hopes for independence, and her dreams to be a painter. Only a day after his departure, she had launched into motion, refusing to pine away for a man who did not accept her completely.
Oh…what I wouldn’t give for him to accept me…for me.
“Livvie?”
She glanced at the duchess. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought.”
“I do not think you are enjoying yourself much. Would you like to leave?”
She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing footman and took a sip. “I admit it, I am bored. I have never found balls entertaining.”
“But at least you have secured several clients for your fabulous paintings. Are you at all worried about what Lord Blade will say when he discovers you have sold several pieces?”
Perhaps, but she would never admit it. “I do not give a fig what he thinks.”
Adel chuckled, her eyes dancing with merriment and a good bit of mischief. “I hope not, for your work has become the rage and the entire ballroom is atwitter with the piece you did for Lady Branson, and now Lady Livingston is demanding you clear your schedule for her.”
Livvie glanced at the painting hung above the fireplace at the far left at the ballroom. “Lady Branson is quite pleased with it, isn’t she?”
“Hmm, and your earl has just entered, quite discreetly I might add.”
Livvie froze.
Tobias is here?
Her gaze eagerly sought him, and when their eyes collided, she audibly gasped. He was shockingly handsome in black trousers and jacket, with a dark green waistcoat that she knew perfectly complimented his eyes. What was he doing here? Was it because he was aware she would be in attendance? Her heart thudded alarmingly, and she tried her very best to act blasé. What would he say when he realized her paintings were taking the ton by storm, as the duchess had claimed? Surely he would banish her then, for bringing the Blade name to more notoriety.
She tilted her chin in defiance, and acting on instinct, lifted her flute of champagne in his direction. He arched a brow, but the dratted man’s face remained inscrutable. She wanted to rush over and kiss him, and then slap him for causing her anguish. The two desires melded in her so strongly, she forced herself to turn away to gather her composure.
“Oh,” slipped softly from Adel.
