A Bluestocking Christmas (24 page)

Caroline’s soft words made her drag her gaze away from Simon’s face as she turned to see her cousin coaxing the youngest girl toward them with a wave of her fingers. Hands on her daughter’s shoulders, Caroline introduced the child. “Ivy, darling, this is your Aunt Ivy.”

With the impulse of a child, the girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her waist. The loving gesture sent a cold chill through her as she remembered the similar manner in which she’d greeted her aunt when she’d arrived at Parkland. The pain of her aunt’s rejection was the only thing that prevented her from shoving little Ivy away from her now. Swallowing hard, she gently brushed her hand over the child’s head.

“You’re quite pretty, Ivy.” Her whisper was hoarse as she forced a smile to her lips and looked at the child. Had there been that much trust in her eyes the day she’d arrived at Parkland? The day she experienced her first lesson in rejection and betrayal.
 

And why would Caroline name her daughter after her? She didn’t know the answer, nor did she care to. With a kind, but firm touch, she urged the child to return to her mother’s side. If Caroline thought to use her children as a means to ingratiate herself back into her good graces, then the woman was sadly mistaken.
 

“Forgive me, but I would like you to leave now,” she said quietly as she turned away and took two unsteady steps to her desk.
 

“Is there nothing I can say to you that will make you listen,” Caroline pleaded. “You have one of most loving, giving hearts of anyone I’ve ever known. If you do not have it in your heart to forgive, could you at least not listen to what I have to say?”

“I cannot, Lady Whitby. We both know that noblesse oblige is reserved for peers, not commoners such as me,” she said coldly.

Caroline’s gasp of shock emphasized how cruel the words were, but it was the incoherent oath of disgust Simon uttered that made her wince at her insensitive remark. Even now, despite his breach of trust, his opinion of her mattered. Unable to look at him, she remained still as out of the corner of her eye she saw him ushering Caroline and her daughters out of the room. With the door closed behind them, a wave of nausea rolled over her. Grabbing the back of the desk chair, she fought to remain on her feet.
 

She wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. But she couldn’t. She had to remember that she was no longer alone. She had to think of her child. Slowly pulling the chair out from her secretaire, Ivy sank down into the hard seat then laid her head and arms on top of the desk. Exhausted, she closed her eyes. The day after tomorrow she’d leave all of this pain behind.
 

~~~~

Ivy wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but the afternoon light had faded to a soft purple. Rubbing the sore muscles in her back, she rolled her head around her shoulders as she stood up. At the soft click echoing in the salon she jerked her head in the direction of the door. The sight of Simon leaning against the room’s only exit pulled the air out of her lungs. Arms folded across his broad chest he simply stood there watching her. Why was he still here? Hadn’t he tortured her enough by bringing her past back to haunt her so vividly? Raw fury swept through her, and she eyed him with contempt. Despite her glare, Simon simply narrowed his gaze at her.

“I want you to tell me just what the hell happened in here this afternoon.” Despite the calm note in his voice, she heard the suppressed fury beneath the words.

“You were present. What exactly wasn’t clear to you?”

With a violent move, he shoved himself away from the door and crossed the space between them in three strides. Caught off guard, a soft cry broke past her lips as he grabbed her by the arms and gave her a sharp shake.

“Goddamn it, Ivy. That woman is as poor as a church mouse. It took me two weeks to convince her that you would be happy to see her and what do you do? You humiliated her, in front of her children no less.”

“I didn’t ask you to bring her here,” she said viciously as she twisted out of his grasp and put several feet between them. “If anyone’s to be blamed, it's you.”

“Was it so wrong of me to want to please you?”

“What happened in here earlier was
far
from pleasure, my lord,” she bit out the words with a sharpness that made him wince. “If you’re interested in giving pleasure, might I suggest you consider pleasuring my cousin. I’m certain you’re infinitely suited for one another.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean,” he snarled. “I don’t want your cousin or any other woman for that matter. I want
you.
”

“Then I’m afraid you’re about to be disappointed, my lord, because our association is finished.”

“Like bloody hell it is,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“I want to know why.”
 

Ivy turned her head away from the stark fury on Simon’s face. He’d betrayed her, and he still couldn’t see it. In his arrogance, just like Caroline, he’d betrayed her trust. Although their liaison hadn’t required her trust, she had given it nonetheless. Breaching that confidence, when she had so little to give, was the most brutal of all betrayals.
 

Even if she tried to explain it to him, how could she possibly make him understand that they came from two different worlds, that it would always be a barrier between them? Her cousin had claimed background accounted for nothing, but Caroline’s actions had revealed her true feelings. When Caroline had entered the salon a short time ago, the past had rushed up to assault her senses with the sharpness of a kitchen blade. The rejection, the humiliation, the constant reminders that she was inferior to those of the peerage.
 

No. The chasm between her and Simon was too wide to cross. It was a barrier that would also hinder their child. The thought etched its way through her with a pang. She was capable of forgiving him anything, but this afternoon had proven how far apart the rift between them was. Sorrow enveloped her like an icy blanket. Swallowing hard, she inhaled a sharp breath before looking at him again.

“Sometimes there isn’t a reason.”

~~~~

White mist obliterated the scene before her, and tears slid down Ivy’s cheeks. The ghost had brought her full circle. Relief skimmed through her as she realized she wouldn’t have to relive Simon’s cruel words or the look on Morris’ face as she’d fled the house to come here—to the library. If that’s where she really was. Reality had slipped away from her the moment the specter appeared to her in the book aisles.

“Was the chasm between you and Simon really that wide, or were you simply afraid to take a leap of faith in him and yourself?”

“You know nothing about me,” she said bitterly.

She jerked around to face the ghost and froze. The pounding beat of her heart was all she could hear in the still of the mist. The specter was Simon and yet it wasn’t. It was as if the Simon she’d fallen in love with had aged at least twenty years. Ivy tried to swallow but her throat was closed tight. When she didn’t say anything, a sad smile curved the spirit’s lips.
 

“I know you almost as well as you know yourself, Ivy.”
The words seared their way across her heart. Those were Simon’s words.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured. “Who are you?”

“Who do you think I am?”

“This is insane,” she exclaimed. “You’re not real. This is all a nightmare.”

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple,”
the ghost said quietly.
 

“Oscar Wilde.” She barely breathed the word. Only Simon had ever tested her with unexpected quotes.

“Yes, Wilde. His words emphasize how easily one can miss a real and pertinent truth. It takes courage to face the truth, sweetheart.”
 

The endearment held such tenderness that another tear slid down her cheek. Closing her eyes, she willed herself not to cry. It wasn’t Simon. She was dreaming. It was nothing but her heart wishing for something she could never have. Swallowing the misery inside of her, she shook her head.
 

“The only truth you’ve shown me this night is that the two people I loved the most in the world betrayed me with their actions,” she whispered as her heart shattered in her breast.

“Are you so certain you didn’t betray them by not giving them the chance to convince you how much you were loved?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t,” she exclaimed in horror.

Ivy shook her head vehemently as the reality of the ghost’s words sank their way into her mind. It was true she’d never allowed Caroline to explain. She’d refused to listen. And Simon. He’d tried to give her a gift of the heart. A present bought with nothing but his time and desire to please her. In seeking to give her family back to her, he’d given her a piece of himself.
 

“My time with you grows short. Watch.”
 

The familiar arrogance she was so familiar with echoed in her ear. Like a curtain pulled back to reveal the sun, light spilled into the small area of fog the two of them stood in. The scene in front of her was almost idyllic. On a lawn of green, Simon played with a young boy, while Caroline’s daughters played with a small toddler in the grass. A large house sat graciously on top of a nearby hill. The scene wrenched at her heart. It was a home, just like she’d always imagined in her dreams, a home where love and happiness was in great abundance.
 

With a laugh, Simon picked up the boy and carried him like a satchel on his hip. Squealing with laughter, the boy kicked his legs, demanding to be put down. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she’d known Simon would make a good father. No doubt, he would find happiness with Caroline. The thought squeezed her chest until she had trouble breathing. It was then that she saw Simon turned toward her. It was almost as if he could see her in the mist. His smile was welcoming and filled with love.
 

“This could be yours, Ivy.”
Simon’s voice filled the air next to her and filtered its way into her head.
“Caroline never betrayed you. You betrayed her by not giving her a chance to explain how Whitby forced himself on her and how her parents hastily married her off to the man.”

The words crawled across her skin with insidious repulsion. Could it be true? Had she misjudged Caroline? The painful truth lashed out at her, and her heart cried out from the agony of it. The memory of her cousin pounding on her bedroom door forced the air out of her lungs as tears streamed down her face. How could she have been so wrong? She’d turned her back on Caroline when she’d needed her most.

“Open your eyes, Ivy. Have I shown you anything but the truth this night?”
The spirit’s voice was a harsh rasp, and she jerked her head in his direction. The ghost was no longer old. Instead, it was Simon staring back at her with a look of desperation on his face.
“Don’t let me go, sweetheart. Come back to me.”

“Simon,”
she cried out in anguish. Ivy stretched out her hand to him as he shimmered and faded slowly away.
“Simon.”

The mist fell away from her, and her salon came into focus. The scent of evergreen told her she was home. The Christmas tree was still there. Her hand was still outstretched as if to pull Simon back into the world of the living. Oh god, had something happened to him? The salon door opened quickly and Morris stood there with a look of deep concern on his face.

“Are you all right, miss?”

“His lordship, Morris,” she gasped frantically. “Did you see which way his lordship went?”

 
“No, miss. I only heard the slam—”

Ivy darted past the butler and out into the hallway intent on following Simon out the front door. She was almost at the front door when it crashed open. Determination etched on the hard planes of his face, Simon strode toward her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Stubbornness darkened his silvery eyes as he stared down into her face.

“I don’t give a fuck that you’re a commoner, and I don’t give a damn what you think about my title,” he bit out between his teeth. “I love you, and I intend to marry you no matter how much you object. As for your cousin, you’re going to apologize. The woman has suffered enough, and once you hear her story, you’ll be begging
her
forgiveness.”

“Yes, Simon,” she breathed softly as she traced his beautiful features with her fingers.

The harsh expression on his face faded slightly as something akin to relief flared in his eyes. With a fierce scowl, his gaze didn’t leave her face as he addressed the butler.
 

“You heard her, didn’t you Morris? The woman agreed to everything I just said.”

“Yes, my lord. She most certainly did.” Neither of them bothered to look at the butler as he coughed slightly.
 

“And I trust you’ll exercise your usual discretion when my nephew sends someone looking for us.” Simon stated as he swept Ivy off her feet and climbed the stairs toward her bedroom.
 

“But of course, my lord. Happy Christmas to you both.” Ivy heard the relief in the old retainer’s voice and she glanced over Simon’s shoulder and mouthed the words
Happy Christmas.
The smile on Morris’ face warmed her almost as much as Simon’s declaration of love.