Ivy practically skipped along the gravel path leading to the stables. Walking in a dignified manner proved difficult in her excitement. Clad in a plum-hued riding habit and matching hat with jaunty pheasant feathers of rich auburn and gold, she hoped her appearance pleased Sebastian.

Glancing back, she pondered his somewhat distracted mood. He’d met with Gabriel last night before retiring, and his preoccupied manner manifested as they prepared for bed. Feeling self-conscious enough, she wondered if Sebastian now found some fault with her. He made love to her with great care, but she still worried at his reticence when during the night, she brushed her lips against his and he held her away.

“I’ve ill-used you for the past two days,” he explained. “I’m only thinking of your comfort. You’re hardly accustomed to this sort of activity, and I’ve no wish for you to suffer from my attentions.”

The gentleness of his words failed to ease the sting of his rejection. Ivy felt it quite keenly. She had just given herself to him. Had he tired of her already?

When he wrapped those steel corded muscled arms around her, Ivy tried to hold herself aloof. Eventually, however, she curled into him like a sleepy kitten, basking in his warmth. Tangled in his limbs, she’d fallen back asleep with his breath stirring her hair.

It was so easy, slipping back into what they shared once before, this comfortable yet curiously charged atmosphere. Ivy did not realize how much she missed it, how much she missed his smile, his hand on her elbow. The way he tilted his head to listen to her. Intimacy added additional layers to the feelings unraveling in her half-frozen heart. Telling herself it was her duty to provide the next heir to the Ravenswood earldom rang patently false. Her pulse leapt to life any time he touched her, no matter by accident or by design. She was obsessed with him.

Sebastian cut a fine figure in his casual garb of charcoal grey breeches, ivory linen shirt and favored Hessian boots. He wore no coat or ascot today. The weather was growing warmer, and the informal style of clothing suited him well. Ivy longed for such comfortable attire. The riding habit was her winter one; it was sure to grow uncomfortable as the day wore on. Removing the jacket would allow her to ride in the blouse and skirt, but the boyish apparel she wore at their country estate, Somerset Hall was far more to her liking.

Seeing Gabriel at the entrance to the stables, Ivy called out a greeting. "Good morning, Gabriel. Shall you ride with us this morning?"

Finishing his conversation with the stable master, Gabriel executed a bow for Ivy’s benefit while Sebastian rolled his eyes at the courtly gesture. "Good morning, milady. Sebastian.”

All turned as a pair of stable boys, each carrying full buckets of feed, collided with one another. Oats spilled across the cobblestones as the two, embarrassed by their clumsiness, argued over who was at fault. With a cluck of his tongue, Samuel excused himself to intercede in the fray.

"Regrettably, I leave for London today,” Gabriel explained. “Ravenswood requested I personally oversee matters before your arrival in Town.”

Reminded of their short time remaining at Beaumont, Ivy felt a bit of joy evaporate from the day. In two weeks’ time, she and Sebastian would return to London to finish out the social season and she did not wish to go. Did not want to face the curious stares and wagging tongues speculating on their shocking marriage. And, truth told, no desire to face Lady Rachel Garrett.

Despite Sebastian's assurances on the matter, Ivy knew the woman despised her. How unpleasant it would be to reside in the same house. Clashes were inevitable. No matter how disagreeable Rachel might be toward her new niece-in-law, it was unlikely Sebastian would banish his aunt from her own home. Ivy sighed. At least for half the year it was possible to live at Beaumont. And Lady Garrett despised the country, so she would not accompany them. It was a small pleasure to look forward to.

Gabriel scowled. "Ahh. Here comes that devil of horse now.”

A young groom led the horses up and Raven, typically quite standoffish, pushed past the mare to lean heavily against Ivy. Resting his head against her chest, the stallion heaved a great sigh, cocked his rear hind hoof and promptly dozed off.

"Devil horse? I don’t believe it. He’s a lamb.” Ivy rubbed the space between Raven's perfectly formed ears. “See?”

"Yes, Gabriel, see?" Sebastian repeated with a grin. "Perhaps the countess might lend you a bit of her perfume. It seems to have a strange effect on horses, turning them into quite docile creatures.”

"Indeed.” Ivy caught her husband’s eye and the current passing between them was so charged even the sleepy groom blinked. "All manner of beasts appear to be affected.”

Gabriel laughed aloud, slapping Sebastian on the back. "Obviously, a private matter better left unspoken.”

Unable to think of anything witty to add to the conversation, Ivy took Spring’s reins from the confused groom. "I wish you a safe journey, Gabriel. We shall miss your morning visits-” she ignored Sebastian's snort of disbelief. "-and look forward to seeing you again in London.”

Annie had packed a picnic lunch for them in a small duffle, and while Samuel tied it to the back of Raven’s saddle, Sebastian pulled Gabriel aside to exchange a few private words. When Ivy entered the stable courtyard, he followed her, motioning for his man to follow.

"See to it in all haste. Before we arrive,” Sebastian said to Gabriel. He shooed the groom away from the mounting block, holding Spring by the bit until Ivy was settled upon the mare’s back.

"I shall attend to it immediately.” Gabriel nodded. “Don’t worry. Matters will go as planned.”

The earl threw a leg over Raven, pulling the edgy stallion under control. His laugh was sharp. "I’ve no doubt they will. Until London, then.”

With a wave of farewell, Sebastian and Ivy nudged their mounts down the gravel lane, past the east pastures where the other horses would be turned out from their stalls. They rode in companionable silence, enjoying the sweetness of the air as the morning sun burned the dew off the grass. A light breeze tickled the napes of their necks and the horses pranced in high spirits.

"You were angry just now.” Ivy was the first to break the silence.

Sebastian glanced up in surprise. "I've yet to say anything, although I was about to launch into a scintillating description of where we shall ride first.”

She tilted her head as he maneuvered up alongside her mare. "I’m referring to your rather cryptic exchange with Gabriel.”

For a split second, his face altered into a mask of hard, secretive lines before smoothing into a pleasant expression. "Only a business matter.” His hand waved dismissively. “Gabriel has it under control.”

Ivy almost pressed the issue but the day was too beautiful and their remaining time at Beaumont too short to mar with unpleasantness. Gabriel’s need to travel to London with such haste and her husband’s secretive, distracted manner were obviously related. Although she was nearly dying of curiosity, she said, "I know that is not the truth, but I’ve something to ask of you, if I may.”

"You know I will do anything for you,” Sebastian replied slowly. "What is your request?"

Gathering up the mare’s reins, Ivy gave him an impish grin. "Race me to that elm at the top of the hill?"

Before he fully comprehended the challenge, her long-legged mare took off like a cannon shot.

Raven bolted sideways; had he not been so attuned with the stallion, Sebastian might have been unseated. He could not contain his laughter as Ivy cantered away. Even riding sidesaddle, she possessed an excellent seat, her hands skilled in directing the responsive mare. After giving her a ten-second advantage, he nudged Raven into a hard gallop. The stallion snorted in frustration, the bit in his teeth as he tried to pull ahead but Sebastian kept the reins short, and for the length of the open field, the two horses raced side by side.

Ivy bent over Spring’s neck, her fingers meshing in the silky black mane as the mare surged to a faster pace. Glancing back, she saw Raven tossing his head. Clearly, his master controlled his stride.

"Let him go!" She did not want the advantage although the chivalry was very sweet.

"It's hardly fair to do so,” Sebastian edged Raven even further off the lead.

"There's a kiss for you, if should you win!” Ivy’s wide smile was full of promises.

Sebastian evaluated the distance remaining on the field, then with a jaunty salute and an apologetic grin, he loosened Raven’s reins. The dark grey stallion flamed past like a comet.

Her mare squealed in dismay while Ivy whooped with the abandon of a wild Indian in her delight. The stallion was incredible to watch, his powerful beauty a staggering counterpoint to an amazing speed. While Spring was certainly fast, she was no match to the stronger, muscled physique of the other horse. Raven quickly left them far behind, his long legs sweeping across the late spring grass.

When Ivy finally arrived beneath the canopy of the elm, Raven danced with excitement, sides barely heaving, tossing his head as if greatly amused by the outcome of the contest.

"Oh, if a horse could gloat, I believe Raven is doing so now!" Ivy exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with the exhilaration. Her stylish little hat having been knocked askew, she reached up to secure the pins in her hair.

"I'll have that kiss now,” Sebastian demanded once Ivy was done repairing herself.

"To the victor go the spoils of victory.” She grinned, nudging Spring to where Raven pawed the ground.

"I didn't encourage you to challenge me…and I did try to give you the win.”

"I would not have claimed victory if you gifted it to me upon a silver plate. But, I would have given you the kiss no matter who reached the tree first,” Ivy admitted.

Charmed by her unexpected playfulness, Sebastian seized his prize as soon as her face lifted to his.

* * *

At noon, they reached a large meadow dotted with sweet yellow flowers and inhabited by a herd of black and white sheep and several new lambs. A low stone fence covered with wild red and white roses enclosed the meadow with a rustic wood gate providing entrance. Sebastian indicated an old trail led into the woods on the backside of the field and they would follow it after lunch.

At the top of the rise stood a small grove of ancient oaks and while Sebastian took care of the horses, Ivy unpacked their lunch, setting everything out on the edge of the shade trees.

“Annie is absolutely wonderful,” Ivy exclaimed. “Look, she had Chef include strawberry teacakes. My favorite.”

“The teacakes were Annie’s idea.” Sebastian grinned, plopping onto the grass beside her.

“And the wine?” She held up a bottle, brow raised at the inclusion of the beverage.

“Mine, of course. I intend to get completely intoxicated so you are better able to take advantage of me. You may have all the lemonade you desire.”

Ivy giggled. “And if I prefer wine instead?”

“We’ll work something out.” He winked.

Chef had also packed thick, salty slices of ham, fluffy biscuits, and a mixture of cut up fruit. Pickled cucumbers provided a tart compliment to the salted meat and the teacakes were a sweet finish to the meal. While they ate, a small herd of sheep ventured close, the baby lambs curious to explore the strange creatures invading their meadow. The sweet little dears wobbled closer until finally, Ivy got upon her knees, stretching a hand to touch the wooly softness of one bi-colored lamb. Tottering forward, it collapsed in her lap, a tangle of spindly limbs, as its mother watched, ready to take action if necessary.

“You darling thing,” Ivy crooned to it as Sebastian refilled their wine glasses. “I've never touched one before. It's so soft.” Ivy took a sip of wine then set the glass down in the grass so she could better cradle the lamb. Gazing out over the meadow, her expression turned wistful. She was silent for a few moments then sighed. “I do wish we could stay at Beaumont forever.”

"The endless balls and soirees in London no longer hold any appeal?"

"I enjoy the dancing, but usually not the company.”

Grimacing with mock pain, Sebastian held a hand to his heart. "You wound me, love. I thought the times we waltzed were as precious to you as they are to me.”

Ivy lightly slapped his arm. "I am not referring to you and you well know it. I’m sure I appear quite besotted by your attentions. Anyone with eyes could see I despised dancing with anyone other than you.”

Sebastian could not stop the flash of memory from the last ball they attended, when he so grimly watched from the shadows while Ivy whirled in the arms of countless men. Jealousy - bitter and ugly - darkened his features. Thankfully, Ivy did not see it as she nuzzled the lamb’s neck.

She’d been far from happy during those awful weeks of their separation, suffering as much as he. At the mercy of those who took advantage of her weakness and sorrow. Men like himself.

What would Ivy think of the ruthless plans he recently set into motion? He had carefully plotted to bring significant financial burdens to a particular set of predators. Those pursuing her at the Faringdon Ball deserved a great deal of discomfort, worry, and angst. Would the exhibition of her husband’s malice please her? Or disturb her?

Sebastian had neither forgiven nor forgotten those involved that night. While the gentlemen would not be completely destroyed, their losses would prove devastating. It would become blatantly obvious who orchestrated those monetary damages when the Earl of Ravenswood gained from their misfortunes. Sebastian did not desire anonymity. He wanted them to know. Only the future Duke of Richeforte danced beyond Sebastian’s reach.

Ivy laughed as the lamb softly butted her in the chest. She did not know Sebastian was engaged in a complete analyzation of that night once again, counting friends and enemies. Reluctantly, she untangled the baby’s ungainly legs, setting it in the direction of its bleating mother.

“It's breathtaking here. Like a fairy tale. Or a dream,” she murmured, watching as the herd gradually began to move away. “With all these roses, you would have held the advantage in London this past month.”

Sebastian reached for her hand. This grove of trees grew on a slight swell, making it easy to see much of the land stretched between them and the manor. The sun had burned off the early morning mist, and now, puffy white clouds drifted lazily across the blue of the sky. Combined with the light and dark greens of the grasses, the low, stacked stone fences, and the cascading profusion of red and white wild roses, the huge house far off in the distance resembled a work of art.

“You’ve never told me why you dislike roses so much,” he remarked quietly.

Ivy ducked her head. “I don't mind them so much anymore. My previous aversion to them is difficult to understand.”

“I'd like to try.” Sebastian settled closer to her. “If you do not wish to…”

“No, I don’t mind telling you.” Ivy took a deep breath. “My father had the habit of sending roses whenever he and my mother were at odds. When she fell ill, and later, when she was dying, he sent them every day. Even if he was out of the country. Now, I understand what the roses meant. To her. To him. I used to think them a paltry, sympathetic gesture, something he sent from guilt. But I was wrong. Those roses gave my mother a measure of comfort and reminded her of their love.” She smiled at Sebastian. “And of his sorrow in his failings of our family. Every time he sent his roses, he begged Mother’s forgiveness and reminded her that he loved her. But, I only saw them as a symbol of death. Betrayal and pain. Loss.” Her aqua blue eyes sparkled with tears. “I don't see it that way anymore. Father explained how things were...and then there you were, with your endless bouquets, and I realized how silly I was for hating a simple flower. Especially knowing your own mother loved them too.”

“I'm very glad you changed your mind about them,” Sebastian breathed. “Because you are astoundingly breathtaking wearing rose petals and nothing else.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Scoundrel,” Ivy gave him a light push. “I won’t fall for it, you know. Not out here. No matter how many rose petals you might cover me in.”

“Pity. I must imagine you then, on this hillside, in the deep, green grass, blue skies overhead. White and red petals covering you, while I decide what to uncover and what parts of you to kiss.” His eyes blazed, sweeping her body with such heat her clothes should have caught on fire.

Ivy’s breath was decidedly quicker as she admonished him. “You, my lord, are wicked.”

“Hmm, one of my better qualities, don’t you agree?” Taking mercy on her, Sebastian reclined on an elbow to gaze over the countryside.

"Shall this be our residence when we are not in London?" Ivy asked a few moments later.

"Do you wish it to be?" He was still contemplating making love to her there on the hillside, thoughts of her naked firing his imagination. He knew she was worried about their return to London, but was unsure of its reason. "This is the closest of my residences to Town. I have an estate near the border of Scotland and a plantation in the Caribbean, should you ever desire to visit the tropics. As well as a small chateau on the southern coast of France.”

"Is this why you are brown all over? From visiting the tropics?"

"Why, my dear countess,” Sebastian teased. "Have you been peeking beneath the covers?"

Ivy's brow arched. "It's difficult not to notice when you refuse to wear a stitch of clothing to bed.”

"I did warn you our first morning here, remember?"

“You’re not answering my question.”

He chuckled and with Ivy’s help, began packing up the lunch items. With everything gathered, she followed him to the horses and watched as he secured it all to the back of the back of Raven’s saddle. They walked down the hill to a second gate, the horses held loose by their reins. As they traipsed through the yellow flowers, the same lamb, which before sat so contentedly in Ivy’s lap, stumbled away from its mother. With a plaintive baa’ing it attempted to follow them, Sebastian and Ivy watching in bemusement before the mother ewe emitted a distinctively stern sound that made the little thing turn back.

After passing through the gate and remounting the horses, they turned to the path leading deeper into the woods. Sebastian resumed their conversation.

"Before I returned to London by way of Paris, I spent nearly a year at Rosethorne. If I was not working the plantation, I lazed the days away on the beach. You cannot imagine the color of the water, Ivy, it’s such a beautiful blue-green. Your eyes are nearly its exact shade, you know, and the sand is so white, it's almost blinding. It’s very hot, although it rains nearly every afternoon to cool things off a bit. When the sun sinks down over the water, it’s such a gorgeous sight, you wonder how God could create so many colors.”

Ivy’s head tilted as she regarded him with a contemplative eye. "How lovely. Still, it does not explain why you are so tan.”

Laughing at her determination, Sebastian confessed, "Because I swim as I sleep. The Caribbean sun is quite strong; it bronzes the skin quickly. The same would probably happen to you, my little English butterfly, ruining that rose and cream complexion of yours. I'm afraid you’d turn color of a walnut. Then I’d have to call you my little brown moth.”

"I would hardly be running about on the beach with no clothes on, Sebastian.” Ivy blushed. “Someone might see.”

Sebastian saw little sense in mentioning that he and his mistress spent hours cavorting on the beach and in the surf and no one ever violated that privacy. That other woman, he could not recall neither her face nor her name.

A silent promise was made in that moment to take his wife to Rosethorne one day. They would spend their days swimming, making love, on the soft white sand and in the jade green sea. All memories of any woman before her would be forever blotted out until only his butterfly countess existed.

"No one would dare intrude,” Sebastian replied softly, his eyes glowing with half-made plans. "And yes, we may reside here at Beaumont, if you wish. My parents did.”

"I would like that. We would be close to Lord Bentley and Sara after their wedding, should they choose to reside at Bentley Park. If you’ve no objections, I would like it a great deal.”

Bringing Raven to a halt, he leaned over to press a kiss to Ivy’s lush mouth. She tasted of tart strawberries, wine and cool lemonade. “You only need ask, my sweetness. I will grant your every wish.”

"I'm pleased to hear it.” The grin she gave him was cheeky. "For the moment, however, I shall settle for another kiss.”

Sebastian happily obliged.