He pushed her away, and she stumbled. Rage contorted his features. “You damnable bitch!”
“Get out,” she shouted, trembling, fear twisting through her.
“Think on my offer, sister. I assure you it is the only one you will be receiving. I shall anticipate your answer by the end of the week.” With rapid strides, he left her room.
As if she would ever countenance such a despicable and unfavorable proposition. She staggered to the chair by the window on shaky legs. She sank into its depth and curled her feet underneath her. What was he thinking?
A mistress.
Humiliation burned through her. William was much changed from the boy she had grown up with over the years. He was still as handsome as ever, with his dark brown hair and light blue eyes, but beneath the veneer of affection lurked something more lustful that she had been ignoring, believing it to be her overactive imagination. How wrong she had been.
He had conducted himself most dishonorably and she was at loss about what to do. To burden her father now, on his sick bed, would be cruel, and her mother did not have the constitution to handle such dreadful news. Livvie sighed. She would have to take care of the matter herself, and if he were to ever accost her person again, she would execute one of the lessons Papa had taught her before he died.
She would use her knee against William’s most private parts.
Still trembling, Livvie climbed into the bed and pulled the coverlets to her chin. Dear Lord, now that she had to deal with William’s disgusting advances, staying at Riverhill was no longer an option. The blackguard would remain underfoot until their father recovered and that could take several weeks. She would have to stay with the Countess of Blade to acquire the polish to enable her to land herself a well-heeled gentleman.
Botheration!
Chapter Two
GRANGEVILLE PARK, SOUTH HAMPSHIRE
The earth shook with the power of the stallion’s hooves. Tobias Theodore Walcott, the Earl of Blade, urged his steed even faster, cutting the corner at a breakneck speed. The wind whipped along his face, stinging him, but he relished the freedom of racing along the lanes of his home. Thunder rumbled and small drops of icy rain wetted his skin.
He inhaled the cold fresh air into his lungs, most content to be away from the pollution, noise, and grime of Town. He was also relieved to be far from the rest of the hardheaded lords he had been painstakingly trying to woo to his side. England had been suffering since the war, and much needed to be done to help the widows and orphans left bereaved and the thousands of veterans starving and struggling to find work with livable wages.
The Prince Regent had been too busy holding lavish parties and balls to be concerned with their plight, and the rest of society seemed content to follow in his footsteps. Tobias encouraged his horse to more speed as he put the thoughts of the political fight he would tackle on their behalf aside. He cleared the corner, and his heart suddenly jerked in his chest. The oncoming horse reared, and the rider struggled to stay seated. Tobias drew on his reins, twisting his horse to the left and by a mere hair’s breadth avoided a collision that would have been disastrous.
Even so, the rider slipped from the horse and landed in an undignified heap on the muddy earth. Curses spilled from the rider, the soft, sensual tones at odds with the vernacular words pouring from her throat.
“Reckless idiotic buffoon,” she muttered, trying to stand and sliding along the muddy path once more.
Good God.
She surged to her feet and managed to find purchase. “You could have gotten us both killed!” she yelled, fisting her hands at her side. “What kind of madman clears the corner at such speed? What if I had been closer or going faster? What were you thinking?”
Tobias was rendered speechless. “Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What are you?”
The most enchanting pair of light green eyes he had ever beheld flashed in outrage. “I beg your pardon?”
“I did not misspeak,” he said drily. “What are you?” He knew he was being insulting, but in this moment, he did not care. While the fresh air had helped, he still felt impatient, out of sorts, and his fingers were itching to grab a pen and write away his frustration.
At times like these, when society was just bloody infuriating, he lost himself for a few hours in the fictitious world of danger, lust, and secrets he had created. Whenever he wrote he felt peace, a tranquility he’d never experienced elsewhere. It had been that way ever since he was a boy and he’d used his imagination and the written words to escape the dark days of his childhood.
She stiffened. “You insufferable lout!”
He arched a brow. Her speech indicated she was educated, but she certainly could not be a lady. Though she was dressed in a simple dark-blue riding habit, its hems were soaked in mud, and dark red hair spilled across her shoulders in riotous waves, the ribbon that had held it together dangling over her forehead. There was mud splattered everywhere on her, even on her chin and cheek. And if he was not mistaken, she was wearing breeches underneath her riding gown.
With a soft growl, she marched toward a horse he recognized from his stables, grabbed the reins, and with an efficiency and skill he found surprising, mounted the horse…astride. Her posture was one of confidence and refined elegance.
Tobias’s mouth went dry. The skirt of her riding habit crept up, revealing the naked skin of a pair of luscious calves above her mud-splattered half boots. She made to ride off, so he turned his horse across the path.
“Who are you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “That, sir, is no concern of yours. If you will let me pass, I will be on my way.”
It suddenly occurred to him she was beautiful. The notion so startled him he blinked, wondering what about her outrageous appearance could be considered even passably pretty. But in truth, he need not wonder, for it was so devastatingly evident. Such a delicate, heart-shaped face she had, with a pert nose, elegant cheekbones, and very soft and sensual lips. Thick lashes framed her extraordinary eyes, which had an exotic slant.
She was breathtaking.
But he despised those who ignored propriety and courted scandal, and if he was not mistaken, she belonged to the class that must not think about such things or face the consequences of their folly. “I think not.”
“You cannot detain me, sir.”
“The sky has darkened and rain is on the air. It is best you return to the main house.”
Her eyes flashed. Magnificent.
“What I do with my time is not your concern.”
“I am the lord of this estate and owner of the horse upon which you sit; I daresay everything you do must be of concern to me.”
She stiffened, drawing his eyes to the manner in which the jacket stretched across her chest. What the hell was wrong with him? The very idea he could be attracted to such a hoyden filled him with distaste.
Her eyes widened and a flush climbed her cheeks. “I…I… Lord Blade?”
“In the flesh.”
“Oh! I…was told you were in Town or I would never have dreamed of borrowing your horse without your permission,” she said, blushing furiously. “Please, forgive me.”
“Liar,” he drawled, instinctively recognizing her nature. She was the type of woman he had shied away from for years. The reckless, improper, and scandalous sort.