Sebastian carried the countess to the edge of the terrace. With barely restrained patience he deposited his burden none too gently on a bench in an alcove sheltered from the sharp breeze. Letting out a heavy, inarticulate moan, Ivy leaned against the rough wall as though appreciative for the cold brick pressed against her cheek.

Veronica twisted her hands at the stony glance Sebastian threw over his shoulder. “You frightened me. How-how much did you see? Or hear?”

Assured Ivy would remain propped against the wall, he took Veronica by the elbow. She swayed toward him with a quickened breath.

“Enough to know you saved a few lives tonight, Ronnie.” A slight smile flitted across his lips when her eyes widened. “I had no idea you held the countess in such high esteem. You have my thanks for coming to her aid.”

Veronica’s gaze flickered to Ivy. Her beautiful shimmering gown shot sparks in the pale moonlight. “I could not stand by while they…” She swallowed her words when the grip on her arm tightened. “Whatever shall we do with her? My plan was to get her out as quickly as possible. I dare not go back through the ballroom.”

While they watched, Ivy began to slide from the bench in a fluid heap of silk and tangled limbs. In two strides Sebastian was at her side. He jerked her to her feet, one arm snaking about her waist.

She blinked at him in meek confusion. “Are we there yet?”

Moving closer, Veronica instinctively reached to steady Ivy when her knees buckled again. Reluctant concern was evident in the lady’s features and seeing it, Sebastian cursed beneath his breath. His arm hooked tighter about Ivy’s waist.

“I shall take her home and you should depart as well,” he instructed. “Take care no one sees you- use the north gate to the gardens. I will leave through the south.”

“You are quite obsessed with her.” Veronica subjected him to a shrewd consideration. “I’m not sure you are even aware of how much.”

Sebastian scowled at her observation. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ronnie. Those men do not give a farthing if she is willing or not. In fact, they prefer the later and you know that is the truth. I have no desire to see her so brutalized. For what it is worth, I’m sure Ivy will be grateful for your assistance.”

“Oh? I may benefit from this impulsive act of kindness? How intriguing.” Veronica’s gaze darted to the terrace doors. “But a discussion for a later time, as someone may come searching for us at any moment.”

Which would be a complete disaster. Sebastian was hungry for blood…anyone’s would do. It was a test of his restraint that he did not storm into the ballroom, to beat those jackals to hell and back. Did he dare contemplate it?

“Get your damned hands off me.”

The precisely enunciated words were barely audible, but Veronica’s eyes widened at the hatred they contained.

“You…you vile, heartless bastard. Let go… let go. Let me go.”

Ivy squirmed, swaying with an unsteady grace. When Sebastian tightened his hold, it was as if an icy bucket of sobriety doused her. Striking out with relentless ferocity, she pummeled his chest, kicking his shins when she could get her feet untangled from themselves. Even dampened by the debilitating effects of alcohol, she fought like an off-kilter whirlwind as a torrent of curse words poured from her lips. Were he not so angry, Sebastian might have been amused. Where had she learned to swear with such brilliant fluency? No doubt Clayton and his fellow reprobates. He scooped her off her feet, turning her so she was pinned against his chest and the blows could no longer strike his face.

“Be still!” His breath hissed in her ear and unable to stomach the swift change in body position, Ivy capitulated at once with a nauseated moan.

Veronica could not conceal her horrified fascination. This fierceness between the earl and Ivy, the possessive glitter in his eyes, it was a recipe for disaster. Jealous, furious men did things usually regretted much later when tempers cooled. And Sebastian was livid, his patience having snapped at last. “Seb,” she ventured quietly, “perhaps I should see her home after all…”

“No.”

“For her own safety…”

The glare Sebastian threw Veronica was nothing less than violent. Before she could manage an apology, he was gone in a swirl of black, Ivy's glowing silver gown melting into the ebony darkness of the garden as he carried her away.

Left alone in the cool spring air, Lady Wesley hugged herself. She could not help but compare the countess to a fairy queen in a tragic fable, an innocent stolen by a devil from the starless side of moonlight.

* * *

Sebastian’s intention was to take Ivy straight away to Kinley House. At least at first. Inside the confines of his coach, she rallied in drunken protest, cursing and kicking until he pinned her against the leather seat with the weight of his own body. Although it calmed her, the sudden lethargy was more an overabundance of champagne than any comfort found in his arms. With a rap to the coach’s roof, Sebastian instructed Bowden to continue to Ravenswood Court. Silence soon filled the interior of the vehicle. Ivy’s mumbled curses died away as exhaustion overtook her.

In the dark solitude of the ride, cradling her against him, Sebastian did not dare examine the reasons for his actions. Veronica was right. He courted disaster. Ivy was in jeopardy with him. It would be so easy to slip inside her rooms, to leave her untouched and tucked under the covers of her own bed. No one would ever know he ventured inside the walls of Kinley House. This was madness. What he felt for her was madness. When it came to her, it was impossible to follow the path of reason.

In the end, he quite simply could not force himself to let her go.

* * *

Sebastian unrolled the coach blanket, roughly depositing Ivy onto his bed. Against the darkness of her hair and the dark blue coverlet, white roses glowed with the brilliance of snowflakes, clinging with determination to the silky strands of her coiffure. One red rose lay entangled in a gleaming lock of hair. It coiled low over her heart, bright as an accusing splotch of blood.

What the hell was he doing?

Sebastian tossed his evening coat away before disposing of his shirt and silk cravat. He poured a stiff tumbler of brandy.

Too late for second thoughts. Now. What to do about her.