Tobias was stunned. Westfall despised society and those who belonged to it, and he made no effort to conceal his distaste to the ton. He refused to conform and they labeled him a degenerate for it. His exploits were bandied about Town with relish and Westfall only associated with ladies of questionable morals, which was why Tobias was surprised to hear he’d formed an attachment with a young society miss, one Lady Honoria. He remembered her as being very excitable and had personally seen the young lady faint at least three times. What was Westfall thinking?
“I can see you are itching to dissuade me from the idea of matrimony. I’ve decided, so it makes no sense to waste your energy on arguments, Blade.”
Tobias had nothing to say to that. “Are those the plans?” he asked, jutting his chin toward the rolls of papers.
“Yes. There are hundreds of children that need me…us. Many lost their fathers in the war. Some are abandoned in poor houses and baby farms.”
He nodded and dived into the detailed building plans, discussing monies required to be invested and the time scale each would take to construct, the difficulties they might face to wheedle further funds from wealthy patrons, and what they were willing to do themselves. Hours passed, and the entire time he conversed with Westfall, in the back of Tobias’s mind, his thoughts were filled with Olivia.
After she had placed the slugs between his sheets, he had spent the rest of the night in the library, writing, trying to drain the lust pounding through his veins with words. He’d been surprised when he’d returned to his chamber in the morning, after a hard ride across the lanes, to find her bent over his bed, her delicious posterior in the air, gently collecting her slimy conspirators and putting them in a bucket. She had actually helped clean up her mess. He had been eternally grateful that a chambermaid had been present or he was sure he would have done something like push her gown up and bite her on her delightfully shaped behind.
He chuckled darkly. Westfall glanced up from the architectural drawings.
“Do you care to share what has you amused?”
“It’s not amusement, it’s anticipation,” he said, shocking himself.
The marquess arched a brow and slouched more insolently than before. “Ah…you are hunting a particular woman. Another Cyprian? Rumors report that your current chère amie has been complaining to her bosom friends. She feared you were getting restless.”
Tobias froze, then scrubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was he even talking about? “I misspoke. I do not want her…yet she intrigues me. A decidedly complicated situation, for I have no intention of ever acting on my desires.”
Westfall considered him, then a smile twisted his lips. “If she is a doxy, bed her, pleasure her well, and move on. If she is a lady of quality, do the same. Both types of women are not to be trusted and your instincts are already warning you. Heed them.” After administering his cynical sage advice, he went back to studying the plans and making notes in exquisite flowing script.
Tobias leaned back in his chair. What was he to do about Lady Olivia? He desired her. It was now an inescapable fact. She was a damn distraction, and though she was everything he did not desire in a woman to be his wife, he was drawn to the breathtaking hoyden.
Since he did not want to take her to be his wife…his mistress? God’s blood. She was the daughter of a baron. She was a lady and he was coldly plotting to debauch her when it was possible she might secure a suitor and a life of respectability. Tobias stared off vacantly into the distance, trying to settle the thorny problem of his lust for Lady Olivia. The best thing to do was to stay away from his country estate until she traveled to Town for the Season. But tomorrow was the ball in which his mother would formally introduce her to their neighbors and the select few she had invited down to stay for her house party. He wanted to be there, if only to provide a distraction and allow Olivia to turn her wayward tongue his way. That was all he would provide, a buffer, and as soon as she was received by the guests reasonably well, he could hide himself off in Scotland until she was wed. Maybe then he would be able to banish her alluring face and far-too-tempting body.
If only he believed such a thing possible…
Chapter Six
The laughter and hum of conversation faded into a distant buzz. Tobias had known Olivia was beautiful, but watching her descend the stairs drove the air from his lungs. She was exquisite, bewitching, and also a complete sham. She looked nothing like the hellion who had ridden Arius across muddy lanes or the scandalizing minx who had swam in his lake.
The young lady before him now was composed, elegant, and ravishing in a high-waisted, white-spangled gauze overdress with the palest green satin underskirt. Her silver satin dancing slippers sparkled under the candlelight. Her dark red locks were wrapped around her head in a plaited coronet, with a few artful tendrils caressing her shoulders. Tobias allowed his eyes to dwell on every swell and dip of her body, and he gritted his teeth when his body stirred. Only a dead man wouldn’t react to such mouthwateringly succulent sensuality.
“Good God, man,” a voice whispered to his left. “Have you ever seen a young lady so becoming?”
Never. But to admit it to Grayson was akin to speaking blasphemy.
“I wonder who she is?” his brother asked, moving to stand beside him. Grayson was a man of fashion and he was dressed in crème-colored breeches with a matching waistcoat and a dark blue jacket.
“You saw her a few weeks ago at the lake,” Tobias said drily.
“You jest. Lady Olivia? I would not have recognized her had you not named her.”
Tobias had nothing to say to that announcement. They watched in silence as his mother introduced her to several well-connected ladies, smoothly steering her charge to the few women of power who were present. Olivia smiled, nodded, and performed to the best of her abilities, but even from where he stood, Tobias could see the strain in her smile. A languid feeling coursed through his veins. He liked watching her. Unusual indeed.
“She’s a stunning creature, isn’t she?” Grayson murmured, sipping from a glass of champagne.
“I don’t find her all that admirable,” Tobias said icily. “She is too…” What the hell was she? Too desirable? Too decisive? Too opinionated? He was disturbed to find that he was not as disinclined to her character as he had been.
In fact, he had been modeling a character in his book after the vexing beauty and had written several pages last night. With her fieriness and vivacity, she would fit easily into his world of danger and espionage where the women were bold, daring, and even at times lethal assassins themselves. Oh yes, a woman like her would make a perfect mistress for his hero, Wrotham. He’d named his hero’s lover Lady O. His new diabolical villainess, a perfect match for Wrotham’s cunning. Who would credit he found such inspiration from Olivia?
“Are you aware you cannot remove your eyes from her?” Amusement colored his brother’s tone.
“I am but observing her reception.”
Grayson’s chuckle was suggestive, and Tobias stiffened.
“Lady Olivia is my guest and tonight is her first ball in years. Mother asked me to be in attendance tonight and, of course, I must dance with the hoyden,” he remarked ruefully.
“You…dance?”