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Authors: Cheryl Howe

BOOK: Secret Pleasures
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“Go away, Darien
.
I’m in no mood for you right now.”

Ivy paced the length of her four
-
foot
-wide
black and white tiled hallway, struggling between the need to go to Melody and her promise to keep Diana’s child a secret.

“I thought you would be happy.”

She froze, slowly turned and walked toward Darien
.
He smelled of cigar smoke, whiskey and horse sweat
.
“You’re drunk
.
How could you, Darien
?
I try to help you and this is how you repay me.”

“I’m not drunk
.
I could not stand how people were treating you and

my father said if I married then he would have no reason to marry Arianna.”

“You are lying
.
I do not believe for a moment your father would have agreed to such nonsense, especially if he suspected the bride would be me,” she yelled, her voice drowning out Melody’s
.
Or perhaps her little angel had just paused to gather her breath for another ear splitting scream.

“He may have specified Arianna,” Darien
said as he
shrugged, “but that would not serve our purposes, would it?”

“I met the girl Arianna and I seriously doubt she has the backbone to deny her parents’ wishes
.
And that would only be the first step in a long arduous journey. Not everyone finds being an outcast something to revel in, Darien.”

“But we have given her the first step.

Darien approached Ivy
.
“Now that I am out of the woodwork
,
so to speak
,
and engaged to boot, she will see that my son will inherit before any she might have.”

“Are you mad?

Ivy lifted her hand to halt Darien’s approach
.
Did he think they would embrace and all would be forgotten
?
“I think you have truly destroyed your reasoning power
.
Please tell me this was not your plan all along.”

“I didn’t have a plan
.
I never have a plan
.
You know that.”

“I know, Darien
.
How well I know.

Ivy closed her eyes
.
She had settled her hopes on a quiet life with a few friends, perhaps even a man she could
care for, even
for a short while, nothing more
.
Silence answered her wistful plea
.
Melody
?
At least her wails let Ivy know she was still breathing.

“Samuel,” Ivy called
.

“Yes, madam,” he said behind her
.
“I have brandy warming in the parlor for Lord Blackmore
.
Shall I provide some sandwiches?”

“I would not refuse cold porridge
.
I’m famished.

Darien rubbed his flat belly in response to Ivy’s glare. “I’ll eat anything that’s not too much effort
.
Perhaps cold roast beef?”

“We have a lovely beef, my lord
.
I shall fetch it right away.”

“You’ll do nothing of the kind
.
Who is attending to Melody?”

Her stoic Scottish butler paled
.
“Well, cook tried and then the maid fussed with her a bit
.
I must say that my skills do not extend


“Show Lord Blackmore to the door.

Ivy headed for the stairs.

“Ivy, I’m not leaving until you let me explain.”

“We are through
.
I feel whatever debt I owed you has been paid in full
.
If you had even hinted at what you had in mind I would never have exposed myself to such public ridicule
.
I have had enough scandal to last a lifetime.

Ivy’s throat became tight
.
“Good night and goodbye, Darien.”

She marched up the stairs, refusing to steal a last glimpse at
him
,
and at the same time
,
vowing that this would not be their final parting.

“I’m not leaving
.
Not again.”

Ivy’s maid appeared at the top of the stairs with Melody, a wool-encased bundle, in her arms
.
“I think we should summon a doctor right away.”

Ivy raced up the steps, Darien forgotten
.
She took the child and uncoiled the wool blanket to find Melody red-faced and tearstained but meekly silent
.
Thick mucus bubbled from her nose with every strained breath.

“How long has she been like this? She’s burning up.”

Ivy carried Melody down the steps frantically wondering whom she could call upon or what she should do
.
She survived a smashed reputation,
but saving a sick infant’s life sent Ivy into panicked desperation.

Darien stared wide-eyed as she strode across the foyer with Melody tightly clutched in her arms.

“Samuel, summon Dr. Ferguson immediately.”

“What about the father
?
Where the bloody hell is he?”

“Darien, it’s not what you think.

Ivy did not have time to explain but rushed to the kitchen to find cool water to press upon Melody’s fevered face
.

“I’m going to kill him,” he said and stormed in the direction of the front door
.

Ivy didn’t have the luxury of trying to stop him
.
No doubt he would not believe her until he heard it from the horse’s mouth
.

“Samuel,” she called as her butler changed into his riding jacket and gloves
.
“After you wake the doctor, let the duke know that he should be expecting a visitor.”

***

 

Darien waited in the shadows
,
watching fashionable
men
he had once called friends stumble down the steps of Brooks, a gentleman’s club Darien once favored
.
He could be one of the fatted calves, waiting to take over his father’s title, nothing better to do than languish in a dark paneled den, sipping cognac and playing
billiards
with men just as bored as he
.
At this point in Darien’s life, he reckoned that fate might not be half bad if he had Ivy at home, caring for
his
child instead of some cold bastard’s.

Darien had sobered considerably in the last hour, but the pain of the past kept him drunk with revenge
.
His most ardent enemy would soon be proposing to th
e woman
Darien
had once intended to wed
.
The woman who had spoiled that possibility for him forever
.
Darien would enjoy using every last dirty trick he had learned in his years of tavern brawls to accomplish the task.

Marcus Lamont, the Duke of Huntingdon, strolled from his favorite men’s club, regal in his black cape
.
The bulk of his shoulders and easiness of his stride warned Darien that he still kept up his membership at an exclusive pugilist club
.
He outweighed Darien by twenty stone but Darien did not fight with
gentlemen
.
He’d been living with working men, earning his strength from toiling like a farmhand more days than not
.

Darien had envisioned this confrontation on many a lonely country night
.

A carriage emblazoned with the Huntingdon ducal crest pulled in front of the club the moment Marcus reached the curb
.
The liveried driver jumped down from his perch in orchestrated efficiency that left little room for Darien’s assault
.
Marcus slipped into his carriage
.
Darien waited for the driver to haul himself upon his perch
before he
parted from the shadows and hopped into the carriage before the horses jangled their harnesses into motion.

Marcus sat quietly in the darkened interior
.
The gleam of a pistol shone from the dim light cast by an outside lantern
.

“Darien?” he said and lowered the gun
.
“I thought you were a thief.”

“You’re the thief.”

“You deserted her,”
Marcus
said with a sigh, as if he had rehearsed his answer a thousand times but still did not like the sounds of it.

“She broke our engagement, among other transgressions I don’t need to name with you, of all people.”

“It’s over between us.” Marcus tucked his pistol in his coat
.
“It has been for several months.”

“It’s not over,” Darien said, hating the bitter taste the truth left on his tongue. “It’s just starting
.
I heard you are looking for a wife, well I found one for you
.
A ready made family comes with her
.
Ready made by you.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Do you not
have any feelings for
Ivy at all?

Darien heard the break in his voice but didn’t care
.
He’d never be a detached bastard like Marcus and refused to even try
.
“It hurt like hell when I discovered she’d taken up with you, a man I once considered a friend
.
But you never made your admiration of her a secret
.
I thought perhaps you actually loved her, would look after her.”

“And I did, believe me.

Marcus’s practiced plea sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Darien
.
“You have no idea what Ivy went through
.
How painful it was to have everyone she had ever known turn against her
.
She had no friends besides me.”

“Some friend.

Darien’s cynical laugh prompted Marcus to shift in his plush leather seat
.
“Then what happened
?
Her little complication no longer fit in your plans
.
I know you like everything nice and neat, Marcus
.
Though, I thought you had more honor than that.”

“Honor?

Real anger crept into Marcus’s cool demeanor, assuring Darien he had finally hit a nerve
.
“I heard you shucked your duty to your family to live like a sheep farmer
.
Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m sober for the first time in years and I don’t like what I bloody see in front of me.”

“I’m sorry for what has happened to you, Darien
.
But you brought it upon yourself.”

“Why didn’t you marry her
?
She’s not some harlot that you can discard when her belly starts to grow
.
The baby is sick, you know?”

“Baby
?
I thought we were talking about Ivy.”

“Yes, Ivy has a baby.”

“She’s pregnant
?
She thought she was barren.”

“Apparently not.

Darien ground his teeth, furious that Marcus knew more about Ivy than he did.

“My God.

Marcus sat back and shook his head, looking truly stunned for the first time since Darien had ambushed his carriage
.
“She didn’t tell me
.
I would never desert Ivy.”

“What are you going to do about it?

Darien’s heart sank and he was surprised he could still feel such loss
.
Brokering a marriage between his ex-friend and the woman he hopelessly loved

no matter how hard he tried not to

was not what he had planned for the evening.

“This isn’t like Ivy
.
She would have told me
.
We never kept secrets from one another
.
The child can’t be mine.”

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