THE DEFIANT LADY (13 page)

He bowed and held her hand a moment longer than was necessary. “Good evening, Miss Sinclair,” he crooned arrogantly. “I am Lord Caldwell. Are you enjoying the festivities?”

Momentarily taken aback by the man’s abruptness, she finally replied, “I am. Are you enjoying your time here?”

Lord Caldwell smiled and his blue eyes seemed to twinkle. “I would enjoy it so much more if the most beautiful woman at the ball honored me with a dance.”

Startled and unsure of how to answer, she tried to think of an excuse and extract her hand. The man was looking at her far too intently, and stood a bit too close for comfort.

“You pay me a great compliment, sir, but I fear I must decline. The Earl of Stanton, my fiancé,” she emphasized, “is due back any moment. He will be at a loss if I am gone.”

“He is a grown man. He will survive.” Lord Caldwell gently, but firmly pulled her towards the dance floor. Not wishing to make a scene, she went with him, and tried to maintain as much distance between them as possible.

Lord Caldwell chuckled upon noticing the distance Ivy was keeping and inflexibly pulled her closer to him. She refused to look up and give him the satisfaction of having cornered her into a dance.

“Do you enjoy riding?” he asked pleasantly.

“I do,” Ivy said succinctly.

“Yes, I am sure you do.” His voice dropped to a sensual purr. “You were made for riding; lovely and light in the saddle, no doubt. Your carriage erect, your taut thighs controlling your mount.”

Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes widening in outrage over his words. He did not seem to be talking about riding a horse at all! “Sir,” she hissed. “I would appreciate the chance to sit down. I am a bit tired from all the dancing.”

Something moved in Caldwell’s blue eyes, and Ivy had a feeling that his social polish was only a thin veneer hiding something dark. However, he played the role of gentleman by inclining his head in assent, and then immediately escorted her off the floor.

Ivy saw Cy waiting for her. He did not look at her; instead his gaze remained trained on Caldwell’s face. When Ivy and Caldwell were near, Cy took Ivy’s hand in a gesture of protectiveness and pulled her close to his side.

“Thank you for the dance, Miss Sinclair. I would love to see you
ride
,” Caldwell said. “Oh, and Stanton, if you ever need someone to keep an eye on your fiancée, you have only to ask.” He bowed mockingly.

“My fiancée does not need your company. Now leave. Your presence is ruining Miss Sinclair’s evening and mine.” His tone was hard and implacable.

Caldwell fumed in silent anger, but wisely made his retreat. Ivy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Caldwell take his leave of the ball.

“Would you care for a breath of fresh air? Allow me to escort you to the balcony,” Cy said, his grip tightening. When they were outside in near solitude, Cy finally demanded coldly, “Why did you dance with Caldwell?”

Ivy gritted her teeth in frustration. She had enough of high-handed men. “He did not give me much choice.” She glared up at him. “He dragged me onto the dance floor like you dragged me out here.”

Ignoring her pointed statement, he clenched his jaw and said, “Caldwell is
not
a suitable dance partner.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and answered, “I already told you I had no intention of dancing with him, but he was most persistent. I did not care for his solicitous attention. You must believe me.”

“I do,” Cy said, taking a deep breath. “What did he mean by ‘I would love to see you ride’? Does he want to take you riding?”

Ivy’s face flamed. “His tone implied he was referring to something else, I believe.”

Cy’s eyes widened. “That reprobate!”

“Cy, please,” Ivy pleaded. She watched Cy attempt to gain control of his renewed anger.

“Seeing you in his arms made me angry, but hearing what he said to you has made me livid.”

She instinctively took a step away from him and when he noticed, his face softened.

“Come here, Ivy,” he said, gentling his tone. “You do not need to be afraid of me.”

“I know,” she said quietly, taking a tentative step towards him.

Cy pulled her into his arms and his mouth closed over hers. He maneuvered her behind a stone pillar, shielding them from guests. Quickly, he had his hand up her skirt and expertly navigated the many layers of undergarments. He tenderly touched her skin and skimmed his fingers over her slickened bud.
 

“Cy, no,” she said. “Not here.”

“Yes,” he growled. “I have to touch you.”

He silenced her protest with his mouth, and continued to overwhelm her. Slipping his finger into her moist heat, she convulsed in passion. She whimpered in arousal and denied him nothing.

“Hush, sweet,” he said softly as he pulled away from their passionate kiss. “You are safe with me. It has been too long since I have pleasured you, too long since I have seen you writhe in ecstasy in my arms. I cannot have you the way I want you, and so this will have do.”

She shuddered, giving in to her desire. It washed over her, nearly knocking her over. She bit his shoulder to keep from crying out. Wrapped in his arms, she sagged against him, letting her breath return to normal. He pulled down her skirts and pressed her head to his chest.

“I think it is time to leave,” he said. “I cannot go back to the ball and pretend that I do not want to pleasure you again.”

She shivered at his heated words and then nodded in agreement. Leaning her head back, she gazed into his eyes. “I want that, too.”

He clenched his jaw, even as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “You will surely be the death of me, woman.” He sighed. “Let us find your grandmother and sister, and I will escort you to your carriage.”

Once Cy made sure they were settled comfortably inside the Duchess’s carriage, he said, “I will see you tomorrow. Good night ladies.”

As the carriage pulled away, the Duchess looked at Ivy and said, “Where did you disappear to?”

Ivy leaned her head back against the seat. “I was in the powder room,” she lied.

“Hmmm. Willow, you seemed to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“I did,” Willow exclaimed. “Lieutenant Beaufort is a wonderful conversationalist.”

Ivy snorted with laughter. “It does not hurt that he is incredibly handsome.”

“It is unfortunate that he is untitled,” the Duchess remarked.

Willow sighed. “Do you disapprove of him as a prospect?”

“You will have a titled husband, Willow.” Her tone brooked no argument. “It is best to forget about Lieutenant Beaufort.”

***

Ivy awoke at noon, which was unusual since she was normally an early riser. Stretching lethargically, she then rang for a breakfast tray. She always ate poached eggs and toast in the mornings, as she preferred something more substantial than other young ladies. Half an hour later, as she began to dress, there was a knock on her door. Willow bustled in, full of energy. She plopped down on her sister’s bed and smiled.

“Are you still upset over grandmother’s announcement that Lieutenant Beaufort is not a worthy escort for you?” Ivy asked without preface.

Willow shook her pretty blonde head. “No. I realize I should not entangle myself so quickly. We only just arrived in London. I need to look over all my prospects. I am sure to find someone Grandmother approves of who is just as a handsome, witty, and sincere as Lieutenant Beaufort.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but said nothing. She had seen her sister interact with the man. There were sparks between them and it had been obvious.

Walking down the stairs and traipsing to the drawing room, Willow and Ivy stopped in the doorway. Dozens of bouquets of flowers graced every available space. The chestnut writing desk had stacks of notes waiting to be read and answered. The sisters looked at each other.

The Duchess entered the room behind the girls and smiled. “These have been arriving all morning.”

“For Willow?” Ivy asked.

“Yes, but Stanton sent you a bouquet, Ivy.”

“It seems half the
ton
is smitten with Willow,” Ivy remarked as she picked up Cy’s card, and looked at the ornate bouquet of orchids. She thought about the stolen moments in his arms and blushed.

“This is for Ivy,” Willow said as she handed her sister a note and pointed to a bouquet of colorful peonies that had almost been overlooked.

“Who possibly could be sending me an arrangement? I am engaged.” Ivy took the note from Willow and opened it. It read:
When will you let me take you riding?

It was not signed, but she knew whom it was from.

“Ivy? What is it?” Willow asked.

Ivy’s eyes were wide as she looked at the Duchess and her sister. “The flowers are from Lord Caldwell.”

The Duchess glanced at Lord Caldwell’s arrangement of flowers, but did not ask to read the note. “It is a trifle forward knowing you are engaged to the Earl of Stanton. I did see you dancing with Caldwell though. Did you do or say anything to make him think his attentions were welcomed?”

“Of course not!” Ivy spat. “Cy was angry when he saw Lord Caldwell paying me attention. He does not approve of the man.”

Willow stared at her sister. “He does not
approve
?”

“Ah. I finally understand,” the Duchess said slowly.

“Do explain, please,” Willow requested.

“Love, or even lasting affection does not usually occur in upper class marriages. It is not unusual for both men and women to take lovers. Spouses turn a blind eye.”

Ivy looked at her grandmother. “Cy is worried I will take a lover?”

The Duchess nodded. “Not just a lover, but a man in his circle to boot, so he is forced to pretend he knows nothing of the liaison. Caldwell’s gesture is a discreet way of letting you know that he would be open to sharing his bed with you.”

There is nothing discreet about his note!

Distastefully, Ivy picked up the arrangement of peonies and Caldwell’s card and promptly rang for Simms. “Take these,” she thrust the bouquet into his arms, “and dispose of them. Also, if any other gifts come from Lord Caldwell, please see them taken care of in the same matter.”

Simms blinked and then said, “Very good, Miss Ivy. I shall take care of it right away.”

“How dare Cy think such a thing!” Ivy nearly yelled as she left the drawing room.

“Should we prepare for an inevitable storm?” the Duchess asked.

“No.”

“No?” the Duchess said in surprise.

Willow looked resolute. “We prepare for a tempest.”

***

Cy handed his coat and hat to the Duchess of Cavehill’s butler, and then said, “Good day, Benson.”

“Good day, My Lord,” Benson intoned.

“Lovely day, is it not?”

The stoic butler blinked. “Yes, My Lord.”

Cy grinned. He was looking forward to seeing Ivy. He was drawn to her like and insect to light and each day it grew harder for him to leave her. These afternoons were not enough. He could not wait for them to be married; he craved more. He wanted to see her first thing in the morning and go to sleep sharing a pillow, the honeyed scent of her in his nose.

“Is Miss Ivy in the drawing room?”

“Yes.”

“Good. No need to announce me. I can take care of that myself.” He walked down the hallway to the entrance of the drawing room and stopped.

Ivy was pacing back and forth while the Duchess and Willow sat in chairs and watched her with ill-concealed expressions of worry.

“Good afternoon,” he called in greeting as he stepped through the doorway.

Tension filled the room as Ivy glanced at him. Her eyes had a dangerous glint and she looked like she was ready to go into battle. Willow appeared nervous, and the Duchess’s face quickly smoothed into a polite mask.

“Stanton, good to see you.” The Duchess rose from her chair. “Come along, Willow.”

“But—” Willow protested.

“
Now.
”

With no choice, Willow followed the Duchess out of the drawing room. Cy frowned in confusion, wondering what he was walking into and why he had been left alone with Ivy.

As soon as the doors closed, Ivy exploded. “Did you want me to stay away from Caldwell because you do not like the man, or because you were afraid he would coerce me into an affair after we were married?”

Reeling in shock, he paused a moment to catch his breath, though Ivy would not let him gain his verbal footing when she queried, “Do you think I will take a lover?”

“Explain what has caused this outburst.” His voice was soft, but unyielding.

She looked at him for a long moment. “He sent me flowers. Grandmother explained the meaning behind them.”

“Where are they,” he growled fiercely.

“I already had them thrown out. I find peonies and the man who sent them revolting.” She swallowed. “How could you possibly assume I would ever take a lover? How could you think I wanted him?”

“I never said I did. You jumped to that erroneous conclusion yourself.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from his impassioned gaze. Sighing, he finally took a step closer to her, feeling the anger in the room crackle. She may be irrational at the moment, but she jumbled him up inside so that he could hardly think straight.

“I will share with you some information because I believe you have the right to know. I did wish to shield you from certain unpleasantries, however in the light of our confrontation and Caldwell’s intentions, I suppose I should tell you. It is rumored that Caldwell beats women and enjoys it. There is no telling what the man is capable of doing. I am worried about your safety, Ivy. I never thought you would take a lover. Truly.”

Ivy blanched. “I had no idea he was actually dangerous. I thought he was simply forward.”

Cy took Ivy into his arms and silently crowed in victory when she let him. “I suppose your grandmother has explained society marriages to you?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Will you take a lover?”

“I said I would not.”

“No, you said you would not take a mistress. They are different, are they not?”

He growled in exasperation. “I will not take a lover or a mistress. Happy?” She snorted in laughter and his arms tightened around her. “It is your turn to promise me you will not take a lover.”