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His thigh brushed against hers as their horses walked beside each other. A tingle of awareness spread, becoming a rush of heat that made her breasts tingle. Her reaction was mortifying, unusual, and so shocking. Never had she reacted so to a man, and she was at a loss as to what was happening.

The sense of tranquility that usually enveloped her when she rode vanished. She tightened her fingers on the reins, wanting to be out of his presence. Without thinking, she urged the horse forward, and Lord Blade leaned in and tugged on her reins, forcing her to a halt once more. Somehow his thumb slid over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. A single bold and improper stroke, and her stomach did a frightening little flip.

He released her as if he had been burned. Then his face shuttered. He stared at her, and the icy distance she spied in his expression had her mouth drying. He barely tipped his hat. “Good day to you, Lady Olivia. I will let you enjoy your ride alone.”

She nodded and he spun his horse around. “Lord Blade?”

He tensed. “Yes?” He answered without looking back.

“Will you keep this encounter between us? Your mother would be most displeased if she knew I took Arius from the stables.” His mother was a woman of uncertain temper and Livvie found it best not to prick her moods.

“A secret,” he drawled.

She frowned. “Well…yes, a secret if you will.”

He glanced over his shoulders and considered her. A barely there smile touched his lips, then he urged his horse forward in a powerful surge without answering. Livvie felt bereft and surprisingly fascinated by the man. A foolish thing to feel for a gentleman like him, who would never be interested in a lady like her, and she would certainly not want favors from a man who thought her ridiculous for simply indulging in a ride.

Since her travel to Grangeville Park, her aversion to marriage had slowly been eroding. She recognized her fear was that no man would truly desire her for her…and she would be trapped into a life where she was unable to express herself for fear of condemnation. Though she envisioned another life for herself, she knew she could not support her family on her paintings alone. Not in the comfort they had long been accustomed to.

The freedom she had now was a wonderful thing, and she could not imagine it permanently being curtailed. But she truly was unsure whether a husband would want to force restrictions on her person. If she must marry, and she feared deep in her heart she would have to, it needed to be to a man of affable charm, one who would appreciate everything about her, and one who most preferably have at least ten thousand pounds a year. That would satisfy her mamma.

The hope that had been on her mother’s face and the excitement in her eyes swam in Livvie’s vision. She had to give this…whatever this was, a fair chance. Livvie had to do everything in her power to ensure her

mother never suffered such loss of hope again. While she had not minded the genteel poverty they had weathered, her mother was too delicate in her sensibilities to endure such a state again.

With a grimace, Livvie conceded that she truly had to secure a good match. But she wished the very notion of marrying did not make her stomach feel so hollow.

Chapter Three

Lady Olivia really was the loveliest creature Tobias had ever laid eyes on, and also the most disagreeable in her temperament. It was a pity she wasn’t more…gently bred. Lord and Lady Bathhurst, her parents, had been disingenuous in describing their daughter as demure and respectful in her ways. While she might hold the courtesy title, her behavior was the furthest thing from ladylike.

In fact, Tobias would say she was a hoyden. She was very unsuitable to be the friend of Lady Francie, his mild-mannered sister. He had seen a rapid deterioration in his sister’s behavior since Lady Olivia had descended on their household six weeks prior. Her stepfather, the Viscount Bathhurst, was Tobias’s mother’s cousin, and the man had sent her to the dowager countess of Blade, his mother, for social polish, so the chit could land herself a wealthy, well-connected husband.

Tobias shook his head, mystified that they thought it was even remotely possible. In the two weeks since he had first been in her presence, she had only proven more completely how inappropriate her behavior was. He watched as the beautiful hoyden tried to convince his sister to take a dip in the lake. Well, he assumed that was what she was trying to do, from the pantomime happening below. From where he sat mounted on his massive gray steed, he could not hear their conversation. But he could only imagine Lady Olivia was trying to convince his sister to behave in a manner as foolhardy as she did herself. Lady Olivia gesticulated, pointing toward the main house in the far distance and then back at the lake. His sister shook her head, then folded her arms, her lips setting into stiff lines of what he knew was disapproval.

Lady Olivia threw back her head and laughed. It was husky, sensual, and unfettered. Nothing like the sweet, simpering, elegant chuckling the ladies he knew displayed. With a casual shrug, she undressed.

Sweet Christ.

Was the lady completely without propriety?

Look away.

The gentlemanly thing would be to ignore her actions. Instead, he was rooted to the spot, his mouth drying as she slipped out of her simple high-waisted day gown. She wore no stays, a shocking thing for sure. Tobias knew no lady who would behave in a manner so scandalously. Lady Caroline Lamb had been rumored to be just as wicked with her inappropriate mode of dressing and her affairs, notably with Lord Byron. But what would a sheltered country miss like Lady Olivia know about behaving badly?

Against his own volition, his interest multiplied, and an idea to shape his current heroine in a similar manner took root. Absurd…but so damned fascinating. She stood in her chemise, and with a toss of her hair, ran down the gentle slope and executed one of the most elegant dives he’d ever witnessed into the lake.

He was reluctantly impressed.

She continually thumbed her nose at the normal expectations of ladylike behavior. Young ladies did not cavort in their undergarments in the middle of the day, where anyone could see them. No…they should be inside, designing meals, reading, practicing their instruments, planning their wardrobes for the Season, or even bloody sewing.

The only thing she did that seemed normal was paint, and even in that he had been erroneously wrong. He’d spied a painting of his estate that she’d left unattended in the parlor and Tobias had been riveted, unable to credit that a young lady of only twenty-two years had produced with such skill, precision, attention to detail, and mastery. The painting had made him observe Grangeville Park through fresh eyes. Everything had seemed more vivid, more beautiful, more peaceful and serene. On an impulse, he had offered to purchase it, and had been pleased and baffled when she’d offered it instead as a gift, for his generosity in having her in his home.

Lady Olivia jangled at nerves he had kept detached and unemotional since he had been a boy of twelve years. He’d learned early to master the Blade’s volatile temper and emotional vulnerability, tempering his emotions with logical thinking and carefully guarded responses. Yet how easily her mere presence irked and fascinated him in equal measure. He found her decidedly strange…and dangerous.

His sister shouted something and pointed toward the main house. Olivia nodded, and Francie fairly skipped away, leaving her alone. Tobias would need to have a talk with her. One did not leave a friend to fend for themselves when they indulged in reckless endeavors. Someone needed to ensure their hides were safe. The thud of hooves stirring the earth had him momentarily shifting his gaze from the very beguiling and vexing woman.

Grayson, his younger half brother, rode up. His mother would be furious that he had invited his father’s by-blow, as she referred to Grayson, for a spot of fishing. But Tobias had never been one to let someone else’s anger determine the path he would choose for himself. The minute he had discovered his brother, he had reached out to him, for it mattered not to Tobias if Grayson was a bastard. He was his brother. He was deeply regretful, however, that his mother had to endure the pain of her husband’s betrayal.

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