Home > Wicked in His Arms(9)

Wicked in His Arms(9)
Author: Stacy Reid

But Tobias’s reaction fascinated Livvie. His eyes were devoid of everything but boredom. Nothing the young lady did enticed him, and in fact, it seemed his thoughts were miles away. Even now, he had an air of cold insouciance about him, as he scanned his guests from the head of the table, but she sensed the powerful, clever personality reined in below the surface.

His disinterest was perplexing and strangely filled her with relief. Of course, she would prefer to spend the afternoon sewing before she’d ever admit she might have been a tiny bit jealous of such blonde, ladylike perfection.

Footmen came out with platters of cream of parsnip soup, grass lamb served with an onion sauce, baked trout, asparagus in butter sauce, venison in a raised pie, and the eating and conversation began. Livvie dearly wished she were alone, comfortable in her bed with In the Service of the Crown. The various guests she had dined with since her stay at Grangeville Park had either ignored her or treated her with veiled disdain, which the countess had pretended not to notice.

“Will you be present for the duration of the house party, Lord Blade?” the baroness queried with a smile. “My daughter is looking forward to partnering with you in the croquet match to be held on Friday.”

Tobias’s gaze settled on the baroness. “I had not thought to stay. I have business in Town.”

“My lord, surely you will be here for the weekend, at least,” Willa gasped, looking genuinely appalled at the notion her quarry would be out of reach.

“Tobias,” his mother said, quickly dabbing at her lips with the napkin. “Do not be so rude. Lord Ranford, his wife, and daughter have traveled here especially to get to know you better. It would be such an acute disappointment for me if you were to leave.”

“Rude? You are mistaken, madam, I am being excessively polite,” he said drily. “I will think on it.”

His mother gave him a pleased smile, and conversation once more flowed around the table.

“Are you very excited about your debut into society, Lady Olivia?” Willa asked.

Livvie took a sip of her wine, ordering her thoughts as she became the focus of several pair of eyes…including Tobias’s.

“I—”

“This is not Olivia’s first outing, my dear,” the dowager countess said with a tight smile. “She debuted a few years ago and society found her wanting.”

“Mother!” Francie glared at her.

Francie looked very pretty tonight in a high-waisted lavender silk gown, her dark hair piled atop her head with three strings of pearls around her neck. Her dark green eyes glowed with secrets, mischief, and a good deal of ire. She’d always rushed to Livvie’s defense whenever the countess issued one of her not-too-subtle insults. She loved Francie for her unfailing support.

“I have not misspoken. But I will admit that is what we are doing now, affixing the Blade stamp of approval on Lady Olivia in the hopes she will make a good match.”

Willa’s blue eyes collided with hers. “Is that the truth of it, Livvie? May I call you Livvie? I’ve heard Lady Francie refer to you as such and it is such a darling way to shorten your name.”

Livvie emptied her wineglass, then gently placed it on the table. “I would be pleased to have you call me Livvie…Willa. And I think the truth of it is more that I found society wanting. Or perhaps society and I were of a like mind.”

The countess’s face pinched in disapproval, and she directed the conversation where she wanted, launching into a rousing debate with the baroness on the latest fashions.

“Did you?” Tobias asked.

She glanced at him, very aware of the keen attention Willa and Francie were paying to them. “Did I what, my lord?”

His stare was unnervingly direct. “Find society lacking.”

“Yes.”

His eyes became guarded and she wondered what he was thinking behind his bland facade.

“Are you not going to ask me in what manner I found the ton wanting?” Not that she would ever reveal how devastated she had been when the whispers about her father had started circulating, and the cruel way society had judged her for his actions. But she was very curious as to what the earl was thinking.

“No,” he finally answered. “I would not want you to let loose your wayward and uncontrolled tongue at this moment. I find I am not in the mood to cross swords with you.”

Lady Willa tittered delicately behind her napkin.

“You are being rude, my lord,” Livvie said quietly, very aware of suddenly being the focus of everyone at the table.

“Surely not, merely honest.”

“How like a gentleman to claim his inappropriate speech as blunt honesty, but in a lady it is seen as brash and scandalous behavior. I would have only been honest as you are, my lord.”

“Are you attempting to match wits with me, Lady Olivia?”

“I believe I succeeded.”

A deceptively wicked smile played about his mouth.

“You are quite decisive with your tongue, young lady,” the baroness said with a frown.

Before she could retort, Lady Willa interjected sweetly and softly, “Dear Livvie, a young lady must never be seen as vulgar in her comportment.”

The baroness harrumphed her approval.

“I daresay she should not be a docile doormat, either,” Livvie said with a small smile, and then deliberately stuffed her mouth with a piece of lamb to prevent herself from saying anything further. She would wait five more minutes and then excuse herself. Five minutes. She could do this, she assured herself.

“Upon my word,” Francie said. “Forgive my brother, Willa, I daresay there are days he and Livvie bicker as if they are an old married couple. It’s quite fascinating really.”

“Good God,” Tobias snapped low and hard into the silence that fell at the table. “I’ve never heard a more appalling jest from you, Fran.”

She smiled widely, a glint in her eyes that made Livvie distinctly uncomfortable.

“I rather think you and Livvie would make a riveting couple, don’t you agree, Mother?” Francie asked sweetly. “They are positively charming together.”

The dowager countess glared at her daughter, and Willa flushed, narrowing her eyes at Francie.

Then Tobias spoke. “I’d rather be drawn and quartered.”

The cold rejection pierced Livvie’s heart. That he would so baldly say that he found her unsuitable in front of company stung, deeply. Her hands trembled and she lowered her knife and fork, unable to glance in his direction. It angered her, that he could have provoked such an emotion in her heart. What she hated even more was the sudden silence at the table. The meal was almost over, she only had to survive a few minutes longer and then she could plead a headache and retire.

“Well,” Lady Blade said, “I understand that lovely Lady Willa has been practicing a delightful new piece for the pianoforte. Shall we withdraw to the drawing room so she can play for us?”

After a few seconds of no reply, Livvie looked at Tobias. Her breath strangled in her throat. She was the sole recipient of his piercing and unflinching regard. Would he apologize? Not that it would improve her reputation in the eyes of his guests after his cutting words, but it would soothe the unrelenting sting in her heart. She held his eyes for precious seconds, then his cold magnetic gaze lowered and dismissed her. There was a soft gasp from Francie, as humiliation and anger burned through Livvie in equal measure.

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