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Olivia was cheerfully stubborn, unconventional, but so full of life and dreams.
“Everything I have been writing is for her. It is the only way I know how to express what she means to me, through words.”
His brother nodded. “Do not wait too long to find her,” he murmured and then left.
Tobias glanced at the sheet of papers on his desk waiting for him to finish the story. He thrust his hands in his pocket, wondering what to do about his countess. Not that there was much to be done, other than for him to pull his head from his ass. His lips twitched. She was his wife…and would always be his wife. He needed to get control of his feelings for her…or embrace them in their entirety.
With her, Tobias admitted, he felt completed, a state that had been missing from the first time he spied his father slapping his mother at the age of nine.
Never have I felt such inferiority. You will never accept me for the person I am.
He swallowed. He had left her alone with such doubt and pain to fester. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he moved to his desk and sat down. He would have to show her with words how much he desired and wanted her. Maybe if he revealed the bit of himself he kept closeted from the world, even from himself sometimes, she might find it in her heart to forgive him. To love him as he adored her.
…
Tobias admitted defeat. His wife did not want to be located. He’d hired a private team of dozens of investigators to find his countess and several days later, she was still not to be found. His gut clenched in hard knots as he glanced down at the letter that never left his person.
I cannot bear living with a man who dislikes the heart of me. I know I must return…but for now I need the space to stop loving you.
He wanted to roar his anguish, but he was aware of Westfall and Grayson’s presence.
“Have you read today’s scandal sheets?” Grayson asked him, his eyes dark with concern. “They are getting more ridiculous as the days go by. When will they move on to another story?”
“I have no interest in tattle.” Yet Tobias took the paper when it was handed to him.
The Quarrel of the Season rages on! Mrs. Darwhimple has it on highest authority that the Countess of Blade has left her earl. This was after the earl himself was seen by the beau monde carrying his very daring and original wife over his shoulder from Lady Bronson’s ball a few weeks ago. London’s coldest earl has caused many hearts to flutter over his actions, but it seems his wife has no such similar sentiments. Lady Blade—
Unable to read anymore, he dropped the paper on his desk.
“Even the countryside is agog with the news of ‘the Quarrel.’ You and Olivia…you are notorious,” his brother said with a grimace. “I know how much you despise—”
“I do not give a damn about the ton or what the gossip sheets report. I do not give a damn how long the scandal lasts, the only thing I care about is that my wife believes I despise her.”
He pressed a hand to his forehead, battling back the surge of emotions.
“Despise. I’ve brought her low when I should have brought her to the highest peak of happiness life has to offer. I admire everything about her and there is nothing…nothing I would change of her character, but I do not know where she is, dozens of investigators have no clue, and my wife is brilliant enough that she could hide herself for years and not be found.”
Westfall’s golden eyes glinted with deep cynicism. “I never thought you, my friend, would fall prey to the vexing emotion of love. I do wish for you to locate your countess. There are dark whispers in the seedier parts of London being heard by lords who frequent those places and it would be better if she were found before they take root and flower among the rest of society.”
Grayson frowned. “What whispers?”
“The ones that say Lord Blade was so disgusted with his wife’s actions that he has done away with her and it is expected her body will be eventually found floating in the Thames. That like his father, he may have beaten her so severely she perished from that brutality.”
Wearily, Tobias leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes.
God’s blood.
It was all his fault, because of a fear that seemed so pointless now. It had been three weeks since she left and he had no notion when she would return. Christ, her letter had said years. Worse, she’d resolved to kill the love she had for him. A thought blasted through him and he froze.
“What is it?” Westfall murmured. “I can see the cogs turning.”
Tobias glanced at the neat pile of papers on his desk. “I know how to find her,” he muttered, his heart doubling its beat.
“How?”
“The only things she departed with of her own were her books, several volumes of In the Service of the Crown.”
Grayson blinked. “Books?”
