“Was he angry when she chose to marry someone else?”
The old, familiar tension gripped Tobias, but only for a moment. With his father gone, he knew he didn’t have to suffer the man’s dissatisfaction anymore. “He was disappointed. Our relationship never recovered from that.”
“How come?”
Tobias gripped the top of the settee’s back as he recalled that night at whatever ball they’d attended. “When I suggested to Lady Priscilla that we elope, she was extremely titillated by the idea—not because it was a chance to marry the man she loved, but because it would spark notoriety and popularity. I saw my mistake in thinking she would be a good wife, and I encouraged her to wed Bentley.”
“You changed your mind?”
“Yes. She then told everyone that I attempted to kidnap her.” He made a sound of disgust low in his throat. “Most didn’t believe her, thankfully, but it was dodgy there for a while. I was given the cut direct on several occasions, and my father was furious with me. I was labeled a rogue, a scoundrel, and a rake—the worst sort of reprobate. I grew frustrated with everyone’s judgment, especially since I’d ultimately done the right thing. I decided to become what they accused me of.”
She was quiet a long moment. “I can’t imagine your father approved.”
“Not at all. He was livid. We didn’t speak for some time.” He looked toward the portrait of his father that hung on the wall to the left of the desk. In it, the former earl stood with his pony when he was about seven or eight years old. The portrait was his father’s favorite because of his love for the animal. Tobias had always hoped his father would speak to him with the same tender fondness with which he recalled his horse, but he never had. Now, Tobias wondered why he hadn’t removed the painting. Perhaps Tobias was still hoping, even now, to find some glimpse of affection from the man.
“When I learned he was ill, that he was dying, I thought we would repair things, but he wasn’t interested in such sentiment.” Instead, he’d focused on what Tobias needed to do when he was gone—take care of his ward and marry as soon as possible or suffer the consequences.
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona said softly.
“He found my behavior abhorrent, and I must admit I did my damnedest to ensure he felt that way. His disapproval was the best approval I could earn.” He shook his head. “Looking back, that was not a terribly wise choice considering that I would need to marry at some point.”
“I did not help matters with my behavior.” She grazed her fingertips against his leg, sending a flash of heat through him. From the moment he’d glimpsed her in the doorway, his body had thrummed with a steady, insistent longing. Her touch amplified the sensation so that need pulsed through him, sending blood rushing to his cock.
He shifted in an attempt to get his coat to mask his desire, but it was fairly hopeless. Perhaps she wouldn’t notice.
“Please don’t continue to fret about what happened,” he said thickly. “My reputation was well known before you dressed up as a maid.”
“Still, you were on the way to improving things, and I ruined that.”
He stared at the pale column of her throat where her pulse beat strong and sure, and perhaps a bit quickly. “Did you?”
Her lips parted, and he wondered if she felt the same arousal as him, if that was even possible. For he was powerfully drawn to her and wanted nothing more than to lay her out on the settee, lift her skirts, and bury himself between her legs.
“What are you asking?” she whispered.
“I’m not really asking anything.” In his mind, he peeled her stocking away and kissed the backs of her knees before skimming his tongue along her thigh. Clearing the lust from his throat, he continued, “I’m merely pondering whether you had anything to do with it. Perhaps I am truly what my father and everyone else believes—a reprobate, a rogue, a scoundrel.”
“Of course you aren’t.”
“No? Then why is it that when I look at you, all I can think about is kissing you? And not just your mouth. In my mind, I strip away your clothing so I may kiss you everywhere. That is surely improper, for you are my ward. No, it’s beyond improper, it’s scandalous.” He straightened his arm and allowed his fingers to graze her shoulder—first the part that was covered with the sleeve of her gown, then her bare flesh as he moved toward her neck. “It’s positively shameless.”
“Would it be so bad if it was just one kiss?” the question was higher than her usual tone. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated with unmistakable desire.
“But what if it wasn’t?” He trailed his fingertips up the side of her neck to a spot behind her ear. He gently pressed his thumb to her jaw.
She leaned forward and put her mouth on his, shocking him, as she’d done that day in the garden. No, it wasn’t shocking like that. He’d never imagined they would share a kiss before that. But in every moment since, he’d hoped for the chance. Now, it was here.
Cupping the side of her head, he brought his other hand to her side where he splayed his fingers along her back and tucked his thumb beneath her breast. He slanted his lips over hers, rising slightly from the settee.
She curled one hand around his neck, clasping his nape. He brought his thumb forward and pressed against her chin. Pulling back for the barest moment, he whispered, “Open your mouth just a bit so I can show you—”
Her lips parted, and once again she shocked him as her tongue met his. She gasped at the contact, and he lost himself in the wonder of her response. He forced himself
