Leo lounged against the banister, drumming his fingers on the polished walnut.
Ivy. A name as beautiful as the woman herself. He had nearly wrecked his Stanley when he’d caught a glimpse of her shapely legs in the air as she wriggled to right herself. Even now, his blood heated at the mere memory of how warm her stocking-clad calves had been beneath his hands.
Her face…something about it…Like he’d seen her before. Just when he thought he’d placed it, the memory would dissipate like morning mist. She was certainly unique, and he knew without a doubt he would not have forgotten meeting her. Her hair was a Gypsy black, rich and long. Eyes the color of cocoa. Her skin was a light olive. She had a hint of Italian in her blood or perhaps something else and it fascinated him. It also was damned dangerous. He couldn’t let himself become distracted by her. Although she was younger and far more beautiful than his father’s mistress, the parallel of the situation hadn’t escaped him. If he started chasing Ivy’s skirts, he would be no better than his father. London would be full of gossip about how he was just like Old Hampton. Every single reputable family’s door would close in a resounding slam after that.
He gave himself a little shake, trying to forget the way her honey brown eyes had been as gold as honey and the way her smile had dazzled him. These were not the proper thoughts of a man ready to propose to another woman. Mildred Pepperwirth was to be his bride, just as soon as he stopped delaying and actually proposed to her. She was the logical decision. An English beauty, no muss, no fuss, and definitely no passion. A sensible wife for a sensible man. She was not a wild Gypsy who would tempt him into losing control.
Lord, Mother was right—he had become boring. The old Leo would have hunted down the most exotic of beauties or seduced the sweetest of ladies into his bed, showing them hours of pleasure at his hands. But when he thought of Mildred, there was no heat, no fire in his blood.
But she was the best choice. A man could not pick his wife by how she affected his lusts, especially a man needing to revive his family’s good name. He needed to focus his attention on Mildred. Not the alluring and mysterious Ivy with full lips meant for kisses and that husky laugh more suited for a gentleman’s bedroom than polite conversation.
What I wouldn’t give to let go, to take what I desire and seduce the raven-haired beauty…
“Ready.” Her voice was soft and light and carried with it a natural sultriness. It would be so easy to return to his old ways, to guide her into a private room and kiss her until she was desperate for more. He straightened with a little shake and dispelled such wicked thoughts, then smoothed his hands down the front of his waistcoat and smiled as she descended.
Windblown hairs were swept back into place and her hat was gone. The motoring clothes had disappeared and she was dressed for afternoon tea in a pale rose-colored gown that gathered at her narrow waist and showed off her luscious hourglass figure. As she floated down the stairs, he admired the way the filmy gold lace overdress shimmered and set off her dark hair, which was gathered in waves and pulled back in a loose knot. She was breathtaking, and it took him a moment to swallow before he could speak.
“You look…” He stumbled over the compliment and then decided to skip it. “I’m sure you are anxious to see Mother.”
Ivy grinned and lifted her skirts enough to reveal a layer of orange silk just above her crème-colored satin mule slippers. “Oh yes!”
She joined him at the bottom of the stairs, and he lifted his elbow so she could slide her arm through his. She did so and the movement brought her closer. A delicate aroma of oranges and flowers teased his nose, tantalizing him. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale the barely detectable scent. It had been a year since he’d let the scent of a woman affect him…He banished memories of his wild days. It did not do to dwell on the past or on things he could not have—like Ivy.
Leo took Ivy onto the back terrace, where they found his mother sipping tea and staring off in the direction of the gardens. She seemed lost in thought.
“Mother, Miss Leighton has arrived early.”
His mother glanced over her shoulder at them, the melancholy expression vanishing in an instant.
“Ivy dear! You look beautiful! Doesn’t she look beautiful, Leo?” She stood and opened her arms. Leo’s lips parted in surprise as the young lady flew into his mother’s embrace.
They really did seem to be close, and it amazed him that his mother had formed an attachment to a young woman after so short an acquaintance. Why had she never mentioned Ivy to him before now? The mystery around Ivy only deepened.
“Leo, dear, come here.” His mother beckoned him to take a seat at the table.
Tea was poured, and Leo watched in fascination as the two women gossiped about London, their mutual friends, and a host of other things, mostly intellectual. Ivy seemed to be quite well educated. The desire to insert his own thoughts was strong, but he could see that his mother would not approve of him interrupting their catching up. It only meant he would have to find his lovely guest alone later to speak on the subjects she seemed so knowledgeable about. He’d never met a woman who knew about business and the current economic structure of rising companies, particularly the news industry. Was she echoing her father’s sentiments or were these thoughts of her own? Leo was rather curious to find out.
“Ivy, your father sent word via telegram. He’s coming down late this afternoon instead of tomorrow. He’ll be on the train. I’ve arranged for our driver to pick him up,” the dowager countess explained.
Concern furrowed Ivy’s brow. “I fear he will be cross with me. I broke his new motorcar. Lord Hampton was kind enough to rescue me.”
“He did?” His mother’s eyes lit up with a curious gleam. That spelled trouble for him. No doubt she had some matchmaking scheme afoot.
“Yes, he was quite the hero,” Ivy replied.
Leo watched the way her nose crinkled and her eyes sparkled as she laughed. She was teasing him.
“I’m sure any man would have been happy to assist you. I was only fortunate enough to be the first to come along.” He swallowed hard, the sudden image of her teasing smile filling his head as though he’d downed a whole bottle of brandy in a matter of minutes.
“Nonsense, Leo. If a lady insists you are heroic, do not correct her,” his mother said archly.
“As you say, Mother.” His automatic reply made her frown. He ignored it and reached for the plate of crumpets, trying not to think of the pile of papers in his office that needed tending. For the moment, he allowed responsibilities to be pushed down beneath his desire to get to know Ivy better.
“Now, Ivy, have you attended any new suffragette meetings since we last met?”
His mother’s seemingly innocent question had him sitting up straighter. After his mother’s heated discussion with him, he was afraid she would rally another decent woman to her cause and corrupt her.
“I haven’t in the last month. I’ve been busy, but I will be attending the one in town while I’m here for the party,” Ivy replied, and added two sugars to her tea, seemingly completely unconcerned that she was speaking nonsense. So Miss Leighton desired for women to vote? He studied her again. She did not appear to be a wild radical like the women depicted in the papers. Well-bred ladies knew better than to get involved in such nonsense.
Women voting. Ha! He frowned at his mother.
“My son”—his mother directed her comment toward Ivy—“doesn’t believe women should vote.”
He choked on the crumpet and coughed violently. Tea with his mother was fast becoming a danger to his health. With a little shove, he put the crumpets out of reach and fixed his meddlesome mother with a pointed stare.
“It is not a matter of belief, but truth. Women have not the sense, nor the education to vote. They would simply vote as their husbands, fathers, and brothers would demand. It wouldn’t change anything. Any man able to persuade a woman would merely double his own vote, rendering the entire process useless. It is pointless to entertain such a notion.” He sat back in his chair, delighted that he’d set the young lady straight on the matter.
“No great change?” Ivy queried softly. Her full lips slid from a smile into a slight frown. The fire burning her ochre-colored eyes was the only warning that he had made a terrible mistake.
* * *
Ivy settled her hands into her lap, curling her fingers around her napkin to prevent herself from screaming. Would it be so terrible to upend the entire pot of hot tea over his head? Surely not…
No great change? How could I have ever thought I loved him as a young girl? He’s an arrogant fool!
She schooled her features into a polite but icy expression. Very well, if the man meant to go to war, then she was perfectly ready to lay siege to his insipid ideas of a woman’s place and role.
“There is no scientific proof that men are stronger intellectually. If women were treated exactly the same as men, given the same opportunities, the same education…and most importantly, the same expectations, both behaviorally and intellectually, then we would not be relegated to a secondary existence.”
Leo narrowed his eyes, clearly ready to do battle. “No woman of my acquaintance is qualified or even interested in voting. They understand it is up to their husbands, fathers, and brothers to make the decisions because they are better informed. It is what is best for everyone.”
“Is it really what is best for everyone?” Ivy asked, her tone sweet, but he seemed to sense a poisonous layer to her tone because he shifted back in his seat. “Women are more intelligent than you give them credit.”
When he made a little scoffing noise, it took every ounce of her self-control not to reach across the table to grip his necktie and strangle him.
“Do you think a wife, sister, or daughter would confess her true desires to any man when she only expects three outcomes—ridicule, abuse, or simply being ignored? That is our fate. You men are allowed to lose your tempers and declare your opinions with shouting and fists, but the moment a woman raises her voice or persists in stating her opinion, she is declared to be suffering from hysterics and is sent to an asylum where she is then truly driven mad. Do you believe women would own up to their need to be equals if they knew such a fate awaited them? If you do, you, my lord, are a fool.”
She knew firsthand the deprivations her sex suffered at the hands of men trying to repress them. She’d helped more than one of her fellow suffragettes recover from force-feeding and other unspeakable acts they’d been subjected to after being arrested. Men were frightened of women, so frightened that they felt the need to act out in violence. One could not speak to men of fear, nor expect them to behave rationally. They reacted harshly toward anyone who suggested they learn to accept change. But change would come one day, and men would have to catch up to the times.
Ivy managed to keep her voice calm during her entire speech, but afterward she was so furious, she stood and stalked off in the direction of the gardens. This was not at all how she had pictured her first meeting with Leo after so many years. Thank heavens she hadn’t told him of her involvement with the Women’s Social and Political Union. He might have had her removed from the manor house.
Fleeing through the maze of hedges, she found the familiar oak tree by the left edge of the long rectangular pond. She lifted her skirts above her ankles and stepped onto the bed of ivy that had worked its way up the trunk of the tree. Her fingers brushed over the waxen surface of the leaves, and she almost giggled. Who knew a simple afternoon tea would have ended with such fireworks?
Her face was hot and her body flushed with her outburst. Her heart still beat wildly, like the wings of a dragonfly. She had just told the Earl of Hampton off over women’s suffrage. Emmeline Pankhurst would have been proud and likely given her a hearty “Bravo!” A little snort escaped her and she turned around, startled when she came face-to-face with Leo.
He stood only ten feet from her, one hand tucked in his trouser pocket, looking both irritated and on the verge of smiling.
How had she not heard him following her?
“Something amuses you, Miss Leighton?” He arched one golden brow, an imperious look on his face. He was every inch a lion with his puffed up male pride. And he was damnably handsome. It was a pity, she realized, that he would not see reason where women’s issues were concerned. What was it her mother used to say? A handsome man should never go to waste. However, if the man in question was not intelligent enough to give women their due, then she would not be able to stand him for long. This was exactly the reason she could never marry. She’d met only a handful of men who believed women should have the right to vote and most were young men in their early twenties, desperate to please a childhood sweetheart who was loyal to the cause.
“I’m sorry. ’Tis a private joke.” She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.
He took one step closer. “I can’t help but think that you are laughing at me. And to think I came after you to offer my apologies.” He folded his arms and glowered but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes that made her want to smile, even though she was still furious that he didn’t see her point of view.
Even if he didn’t agree with her, she knew she had best fix this before she ruined the upcoming house party by being at odds with her host.
“It was not you, my lord, but me. I was simply mortified that I lost my temper in front of you. I tend to laugh at my mistakes. It is better than the alternative.”
He sidled closer and her breath hitched. As a young girl, she’d loved it when he’d been close to her but now…it was different. Everything about him being close to her made her feel alive. Her skin tingled with a heightened awareness.
I shouldn’t feel this way, not for him. I’ve changed, and so has he. We aren’t children anymore and we’re certainly not suited for anything more. No matter what she told herself, it didn’t change how she felt or how she wanted to know how good it would feel to lose herself in a kiss.
“What is the alternative?” he prompted curiously.
Ivy shrugged, still trying to ignore her body’s heated reaction to his closeness. “What makes one laugh can also make one cry.”
Leo was suddenly grinning again. “You need never cry on my account. Now let us not quarrel. I suspect that Mother played us so that we would argue on purpose. She’s been most vexing since her mourning period ended a few weeks ago. Creating scandal and trouble seems to have become her new favorite activity.”
“I’m sorry. I heard about your father last year. Does she miss him very much?”
Ivy knew the truth, that the dowager had loved her husband but hated loving a man who had forsaken her for another woman, but she had to feign ignorance of all this. She was not to know Leo’s family’s darker secrets if her identity was to remain a mystery during the house party.
Leo joined her by the ivy-covered tree, leaning one elbow against the bark and studying her. She had to resist the urge to move back. There was something frightening, yet exciting, about the way he was cornering her, like a lynx she’d seen during a hunting expedition with her father. Leo and the lynx had the same cunning gleam in their eyes. As a boy, he’d been charming, but as a man, he was so much more tempting. The strong lines of his jaw, the brightness of his eyes, the strong yet elegant hands that she couldn’t help but picture on her body…Ivy jerked herself away from the dangerous trail those thoughts could lead her down. You cannot let a man tempt you, not even this one.
“Actually, Mother’s never been happier, and she’s determined to live scandalously. I’m merely doing my best to keep her more wild desires in check.” His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment before he met her eyes again.
Wild desires? Why did the way he say that make her body tremble? She had to keep the conversation going. She couldn’t let him know the effect he was having on her. The last thing she needed was for Leo to up his charm and make her forget her promise to herself to avoid falling in love with him. It would be a disaster for them both and it would crush her dreams of making a difference in the world for women everywhere.
“Do you miss your father?” she asked, her voice breathless as he leaned in close, his face a mask of intensity. She felt cornered, yet not afraid, only…uneasy.
“It is hard to miss a man I barely knew and rarely liked. He was not a kind man.” While he delivered this brusquely, there was a hint of hurt beneath it. Ivy couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Leo’s father had been cruel or because of the scandal he’d left behind was causing a stir in London.
Her memories of her childhood at Hampton House had been shadowed with the old earl’s darkness of spirit. He’d threatened to turn her mother out when word of her pregnancy reached him. Leo’s mother had flat out refused to send her lady’s maid away, regardless of the scandal of the situation. When the two had fought over it, there had been shouting and the smashing of glass. After that, Ivy’s mother had been allowed to stay, and Ivy had grown up hiding from the old earl. Out of sight and out of mind.
“Is your mother joining us this weekend?” Leo asked.
The responding wince she made drew his complete focus. She had to keep up pretenses since it was quite clear he didn’t remember her as little Button tagging along on his boyhood adventures.
“My mother passed when I was a child. My father has not married since.” There, that was vague enough, considering her parents had never married.
Leo straightened at once, stepping back, all predatory actions halted. “I’m so sorry. I just assumed…I am sorry,” he apologized, his face reddened slightly.
“It’s fine,” she assured him.
“Would you care to—” he began, but a footman appeared a few feet away and coughed politely.
“Yes?” Leo growled through gritted teeth, forcing himself away from her.
“Mr. Leighton has arrived and is asking after his daughter and his…motorcar.” The footman waited patiently, eyes fixed pointedly at the ground, his face stoic.
“Thank you, Will. We shall come inside directly,” Leo announced, and just like that their temporary chaperone was gone.
Leo leaned in and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips as he studied her. Ivy’s heartbeat skittered madly. I should pull away, but, Lord, his touch makes me feel on fire in the most wonderful way…
“He’s going to be angry with me. That Hudson was new.” She tried not to think about how much the Hudson had cost. If they couldn’t repair the damage…It was so easy to forget how much money her father had. She knew logically she need not worry, but still, worry she did.
“Do not fret, Miss Leighton. My mechanic will have it repaired.” Leo’s voice was gentle, soothing. “Motorcars break down. The bloody things are unpredictable. If your father is upset, it won’t be because of anything you’ve done.”
“Yes, but—”
Without so much as another word, he bent his head. When their mouths were an inch apart, he captured her gaze, and something wild and hot passed between them as he slanted his mouth over hers. All worries and fears were destroyed in the wake of pleasure and fire.
Heat and light burned through at that single kiss, like tender sparks shooting through the night over a healthy fire. A little moan escaped her as he teased her mouth open with his tongue. One of his hands grasped her hip, holding her firm between him and the tree as he pressed against her. The heady aroma of autumn leaves, leather, and sandalwood sent her senses spinning.
With gentle kisses and a wicked tongue, he taught her all the ways she’d longed to kiss. It was the sort of kiss the upstairs maids whispered about, the kind that made a woman lose her head…and her heart.
This is a terrible idea. I should stop him…but…The will to break the kiss faded like morning mist. Once upon a time, there had been nothing more she had wanted in her life, a kiss from her sunny-haired prince. But she’d changed; she’d grown up and a man’s kiss shouldn’t have been so potent that it cast a spell over her. Yet, Leo’s kiss was exactly that, a spell that bound her to him in a way she feared would break her heart.
He nipped her lips, and she felt his mouth curve into a smile against hers before he finally drew back. His eyes were dark with passion, and his breathing was rough and warm against her face. Their bodies were so close, the intimacy making her feel like there was nothing outside of them in that moment.
“Why do I have the feeling you are going to be trouble, Miss Leighton?” Leo chuckled, suddenly drawing a fingertip down her nose and tapping it lightly, the way he had so often all those years ago.
“Trouble?” she echoed faintly. Still shaken by her first kiss and the shivery warmth spreading through her limbs, she dared not move for fear of falling. Love was dangerous; love ruined a woman’s dreams. And Leo was the one man who could tempt her into falling in love.
“Oh yes. Just when I have everything planned, you come along and remind me of why I used to be so wicked.” He bent, feathered one last kiss to her lips before he took her arm in his and escorted her back to the house.
Ivy did not look at him. She felt changed. Their secret moment had awakened her and melted whatever defenses she’d thought she’d built against his charm. How was she ever going to think clearly when all she wanted to do was relive that kiss? The carefully crafted battlements around her heart quivered, trembled, the walls crumbling.
Oh dear…