The house was a flurry of chaos. Servants rushed back and forth: luggage in footmen’s arms and ladies’ hats and coats carried by the upstairs maids. The high ceilings of the entryway reverberated with the voices of the guests. Leo stepped out of the way, allowing Miss Leighton to rush over to a tall, striking man with a dark mustache and olive skin. Her father, he assumed, given the similarities of their features. Certainly foreign. It was no wonder she was such an exotic beauty.
“Hampton!” A loud voice cut across the merry din, and Leo was smacked soundly on the shoulder by Owen Hadley.
“Hadley, I’ve never been happier to see you.” The familiar face of his friend eased the tension in Leo’s shoulders. He would have one ally in the midst of this social fray.
Owen laughed. “Good of your mother to invite me. I think she knew you would have need of me.” He nodded toward the mixed group of men and women in the hall. Leo recognized the faces, but they were all more of his mother’s friends than his. Aside from Owen, Ivy was perhaps the only person he was interested in. Had his mother done this on purpose? He’d insisted she invite Mildred and her parents for the party after he guessed her intentions, but how was he to treat both Mildred and Ivy equally during the party? His body wanted Ivy, but the rational part of his mind reminded him he needed to focus on his future bride. It was a bad predicament. One he was quite sure his mother had contrived deliberately.
Owen’s eyes twinkled. “What are you thinking about? You have that look in your eyes.” He leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching Leo with a piqued interest.
“My mother is scheming. I am merely trying to outmaneuver her.”
His friend laughed. “Scheming? Christ, aren’t you too old for that to be a threat? What’s the worst she could do?”
Leo sighed and nodded discreetly in Ivy’s direction. “That is her latest plan. Mother does not count herself among Miss Pepperwirth’s admirers and is determined to upset my plan to propose by distracting me with a lovely young woman instead.”
Owen’s face twisted in an unpleasant grimace. “Lord Pepperwirth’s daughter? Good God, man, do you hate yourself? Why tie the knot with such a…” He paused, caught himself, and amended more politely, “She’s a lovely lady, I’m sure.”
“I know full well Miss Pepperwirth is not ideal. Her temperament is severe, but her father’s influence in the House of Lords would be beneficial, and her dowry would keep Hampton well set for the next several generations. I need to consider that above my own desires.” He slid his hand into his pocket, rubbing his fingers over the smooth silver of his pocket watch. The little tick of its metal heart beat against the palm of his hand. Time was eternally moving forward, another second lost, another minute wasted. Leo’s gaze drifted back to Ivy and the tempting curve of her smile as she hugged her father. Such a warm, affectionate creature. Would she be the same with a lover?
“I never envisioned you as the martyr sort,” Owen observed.
It was a statement Leo would have agreed with before his father had died. But in the last year, he had been forced to change as he’d taken the reins of the estate after his father’s disgraceful passing.
“You’re fortunate you don’t have to worry about such things,” Leo said.
A footman rushed past them and Owen lowered his voice. “Of course I worry about this, more so than you.” His friend’s face was suddenly plagued with shadows and his eyes were haunted. “My own estate in the Cotswolds is in utter shambles. Ever since I returned from the war, I’ve been fighting to get it back on sound footing. I understand how you feel, Leo, I do, but I know you. Marriage to a sharp-tongued harpy won’t make you happy. It’s liable to drive you mad. I wouldn’t risk it, ol’ boy.”
Leo stared at Owen, shocked. How had he missed that his friend was in such poor circumstances? God, he was a bloody bastard for not knowing his friend was in a worse state than he was.
“Hadley, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
Owen shrugged but the movement lacked the carefree manner his friend used to have. “It isn’t your fault. The debts of our fathers’ estates are a burden to us all.” He glanced away for a long moment as though trying to hide his worries. Then he turned back to Leo with a forced grin. “So who is the lovely lady caught up in your mother’s schemes? Perhaps I’d like to get tangled in that web myself.”
It was then that Leo noticed Owen’s eyes were fixed on Ivy and the look was a little too appreciative. Owen loosened the collar of his shirt as his gaze ran the length of Ivy’s body.
A sudden desire to punch his oldest friend nearly overtook Leo. His fingers curled into a fist and it took every ounce of his willpower to not haul back and strike the other man.
“Will you introduce me?” Owen asked, flashing Leo a wicked grin as though he could read Leo’s murderous thoughts. They were of the same height and muscular build. A battle of fisticuffs would be painful, and both of them knew it.
Through gritted teeth, Leo nodded. “An introduction, but nothing more. Try to behave yourself with my guest. She’s…” He’d been about to say innocent, not that he could explain why.
She was a stranger. He’d never seen her before until he’d pulled up next to her motorcar and found her glorious legs waving in the air, but he knew she was innocent to the ways of men. The memory of the kiss he’d stolen, the way he’d coaxed her into responding, taught her mouth how to move with his. Such a foolish thing, for him to kiss a woman he had no plan to marry, but he couldn’t resist. Not after the way she’d gazed at him as though he could give her the moon and the stars, and he’d had the strangest urge to tap the tip of her adorable nose…it was rather like a half-remembered dream, as though he’d done it a thousand times, yet it felt new.
There was no doubt in his mind that Ivy was crafted by the gods to tempt him. With those almond-shaped eyes fringed by long, sooty lashes and intoxicatingly lush lips…the way she’d dressed him down over the voting issue. He’d loved the verbal sparring. She lacked the acidity Mildred possessed, whose comments always seemed rooted in scorn for everything. He shuddered. Owen was right. Marrying Mildred would be a foolish endeavor on its own, but couple it with doubling Hampton’s estate…a man could overlook an ill-tempered shrew of a wife, couldn’t he?
Owen nudged his elbow. “Don’t leave a man out to dry, Hampton. I want to meet this lady.”
Leo shot his friend a cool look as they walked through the throng of guests, murmuring greetings until they reached Ivy and her father.
“Welcome to Hampton, Mr. Leighton. May I present my good friend Mr. Owen Hadley to you and your daughter? Mr. Hadley, this is Mr. Leighton and his daughter Miss Ivy Leighton.”
“Good to meet you, my lord. I’ve heard much about you from Lady Hampton.” Mr. Leighton offered a hand, the intimate gesture catching Leo off guard, but he shook it regardless and then Leighton was doing the same to Owen. Owen then turned the full weight of his charm on Ivy, whose blush made her slightly olive skin turn a beautiful dusky rose.
Leo had to force himself to focus on Mr. Leighton and not on his personal desire to throttle his friend, who was pressing kisses to Ivy’s gloved knuckles.
He directed his gaze to his guest. “I understand you own the London News Weekly?”
A knowing smile flitted across Leighton’s face and he rubbed his chin.
“I take it you are not a frequent reader of the Weekly? It’s not traditional like the Post, I know, but I believe people should enjoy what they read and be entertained. Not everything in life must be dull and boring. Some reading ought to be for pleasure.”
Leo laughed, genuinely surprised. Leighton seemed to be more agreeable than he had expected. The man knew of his paper’s reputation and wasn’t the least bit offended that Leo wasn’t an avid reader. It spoke well of Leighton that he could view his enterprise with an unbiased eye.
“Ivy says you rescued her when the Hudson gave out on the road? I thank you for the services you provided my daughter.” Leighton’s eyes twinkled with a fatherly merriment as though he’d had to face trouble his daughter had gotten into before.
Leo had to bite his tongue at the sudden image of offering other types of services to Ivy, primarily those best conducted in bed. He’d love to service her all night…Damn! How had the young woman gotten beneath his skin so quickly? He hadn’t been this affected by a woman since he’d been a lad.
“I was happy to help. Apparently, there was a problem with the petrol. My mechanic should have the motorcar ready for you tomorrow should you have need of it.”
“Thank you.” Leighton turned to his daughter and placed her hand on his arm. “Ivy, it’s nearly time for supper. We should go change.”
Leighton’s smile was more a baring of teeth and directed at Owen, who was gazing like a moonstruck calf at Ivy. But Leo knew his friend. Owen was more dangerous than he appeared. He was not a young beau swooning over his lady. He and Leo could both have predatory tendencies where beautiful ladies were involved. One smile from a willing woman and either of them would seduce her right out of her gown. But not Ivy—Owen could not have her. Leo wouldn’t allow it, especially not under his roof. It was a good thing Leighton was protective of his child.
Leo and Owen watched the newspaperman and his bewitching daughter ascend the stairs. When they were out of sight, Owen chuckled. The sound was grating on Leo’s nerves.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this party.” His friend smirked. “You can have fun with Mildred. I plan to enjoy Miss Leighton.” He walked off, leaving Leo gaping and furious. Owen would bed the girl before the party’s end and move on to the next woman who caught his eye and leave poor Ivy ruined. She deserved better than that. She deserved a man who would respect her. Of course, she deserved wildness in bed, but out of it, complete respect. She wasn’t like other women of his acquaintance. He wouldn’t have cared overmuch if his friend had been out to seduce them. Ivy…was different.
And he couldn’t seem to stay away from her.
* * *
Supper at Hampton was an unexpected pleasure for Ivy. As the daughter of a lady’s maid, she had always dined in the downstairs hall with the other servants. Tonight, though, she was a guest, decked out in a blue gown with a yellow chiffon underskirt visible beneath the parting folds at the front of her gown. Her sleeves were made of fine netting and fell to her elbows in a kimono-like fashion she adored. The gown hugged her curves and flared at her ankles in a train, creating a lovely S shape that was all the rage in London.
Her hair was pulled back and up in a loose collection of waves about her face and gathered into a soft roll at the top of her head. Nestled just over the crown of her hair was a glittering band of stars, a piece of jewelry her father had bought during a trip to India a few months ago. Against the darkness of her hair, she knew the stars glinted and shone like the night sky. When she had come down for the evening, Leo’s lips had parted and his eyes had widened.
She had to admit, she did feel rather beautiful this night, but was she beautiful enough? Lacking self-confidence was unusual for her. Her father had raised her to value her mind, her intelligence, her compassionate heart, and beauty, but only to the extent that she did not focus on it beyond reason. She smiled, remembering what he often said: “There’s more to a woman than her figure and face. A man can only love a body so long. ’Tis the mind and heart of a woman that brings him to his knees and makes him love you.”
Did she want Leo to love her? If she was honest with herself, a small part of her did want that desperately, but the rest of her was stoutly against it. She had plans for her life that didn’t include marriage and certainly not love for a man who didn’t believe in her dreams. Still, watching his eyes on her as she had come down for dinner had filled her heart with a foolish hope.
She was seated in the middle of a long mahogany table in the dining room. Light gleamed off the polished silverware, and the flames from the many candles flared and danced. On either side of her sat Owen and Leo. Across from her was the infamous Mildred Pepperwirth with her parents, Lord and Lady Pepperwirth. Leo must have insisted that the Pepperwirths attend the house party because Ivy would have bet her most expensive diamond earrings that the dowager would not have wanted Mildred anywhere near Leo while her scheme to enliven his spirits was under way.
As the courses began to appear at the table, Ivy listened to the conversations around her. She selected a bit of the potatoes with caviar and crème fraîche from a plate offered to her. The Pevenlys and Athertons, both couples a few years older than Leo, were charming and amusing. They shared stories of fun nights with Leo in London that had him blushing and shifting in his seat. Apparently, if Mr. Pevenly could be believed, Leo was tone-deaf and had been forced to sing at a recent social gathering.
“I’m not a songbird,” Leo muttered darkly as everyone laughed.
“Indeed, it seems you are not. Neither am I,” Ivy admitted. “I play much better than sing, but still am only passable. A shame, isn’t it? Not as accomplished as other ladies, I suppose.” Now she was teasing him, and she knew he could tell because the fine lines at his eyes crinkled as he tried to hide a smile.
“Accomplishments are overrated. I’d take a decent conversationalist, even a suffragette, over a woman who could only sing or play. Good heavens, can you imagine?”
They both dissolved into a barely contained silent fit of laughter at the idea of him being married to a woman who only sang and played. It would be a dreadful bore to live a life with someone one could not converse with. She knew she could not survive such a match. Her husband, if she ever changed her mind on marriage, must be able to talk with her on a great many things and, more importantly, listen to her.
With the cold weather outside, the cook had outdone herself with a wonderful creamy butternut squash soup. She caught Leo watching her as she tasted the soup.
“You like it?” he whispered.
“Hmm, yes.” She couldn’t help the little noise of pleasure escaping her lips. Mrs. Beedle had often cooked this particular recipe when Ivy had been a little girl. She desperately wanted to know if the cook still worked here. She hadn’t thought to ask Gordon earlier. The upsetting idea of Leo marrying Mildred Pepperwirth had quite erased all other thoughts.
“Mrs. Beedle has been making this dish since I was a lad. It’s perfect for the weather, don’t you agree? Just the thing for warming up one’s…body.” His whispered words made her shiver a little. She couldn’t help but remember the sinful embrace in the garden, how his body had warmed hers. Butternut squash soup warmed her up, but not nearly as effectively as Leo’s lips upon hers, and she had a strange notion that he meant to remind her of their kiss. He opened his mouth to speak but a footman appeared between them, serving duck confit covered in garlic, thyme, and bay leaves. Ivy took the opportunity to focus on the duck and avoid the temptation of Leo’s focus on her.
Mrs. Atherton and Mrs. Pevenly were entertaining and witty, sharing thoughtful discussions on social news, whilst their husbands touched on the politics of the day. Ivy’s father was lost in an intimate conversation with the hostess, and unfortunately, Ivy was all too well aware that she and Mildred had not uttered a word to each other since they’d been formally introduced.
Ivy shot glances at Mildred. Her hair was a rich chestnut and pulled up in a tumble of delicate knots and waves above her head. A diamond circlet rested in the crown of her hair and she bore it with all the pomp and dignity one could expect from a viscount’s daughter. Yet despite her naturally lovely looks, as even Ivy had to admit she was fair, there was a cold distance in her features, as though the idea of descending from the clouds of Olympus to interact with mortals was impossible. Not only impossible but also distasteful.
It was the sort of attitude Ivy never had cultivated. Whether that was because her mother had been in service, or her father was a Gypsy, a foreigner, she wasn’t sure. The idea of holding herself above others was simply not possible. The silence at their part of the table was starting to draw attention. The two women were focused far too much on consuming the beef Wellington and roasted parsnips.
The food was sumptuous and seemingly endless. Ivy placed a hand on her stomach, all too aware that dessert hadn’t yet been served. Her father ran a tight household, not out of a desire to deny them both of fine dinners, but merely because he didn’t believe in living to excess. Fine clothes were a must, but wasting food was unheard of. As a Romani, he was raised to respect what he had and never to indulge beyond what was necessary. She respected her father all the more for clinging to the values of the life he’d left behind.
When he had first seen her the day he had picked her up from Hampton House, he had treated her like a young lady, not a child, and told her the truth. He’d never known she’d existed. After a secret and wildly passionate affair with her mother, he realized he had to make his way in the world of the Gadjie in order to be able to have a wife. By the time he’d made his fortune, he’d just learned of her mother’s death but hadn’t heard about the child until a month later when Leo’s mother had sent him a letter. Ivy shook off the dark memories of a time that still made her heart ache and tried to focus on conversation with Mildred.
“I hear you were educated in Paris, Miss Pepperwirth. That must have been quite an enjoyable experience,” she said as she nibbled on a dark chocolate truffle.
Mildred turned a caustic eye on her. “Of course.” The barest hint of a cruel smile appeared. “You were not educated there?”
Ivy prayed the heat in her cheeks did not become a full blush.
“No, I was privately educated in London.”
“Oh, that’s a pity. Everyone can benefit from proper schooling.” The way Mildred emphasized everyone came out too patronizing for Ivy to stand. She had inherited more than looks from her father. She had his quick temper and could not suffer fools.
“I agree. Everyone should have such opportunities. I have spent the last three years attending lectures at Oxford University and have sat for several examinations. I hope someday soon I will be able to obtain a degree.”
Conversation at the table died and Ivy inwardly cursed herself for having made such a foolish comment. A soft, stifled chuckle to her left revealed Mr. Hadley laughing into his glass of wine.
The dowager countess came to her rescue. “Miss Leighton is quite the star pupil, or so I’ve heard. I’m always most excited to hear about her academic progress.” And just like that, the guests were forced to murmur their agreements lest they incur her displeasure. It was expected that no one would quarrel on a subject their hostess was eagerly ready to champion. Leo leaned close, his breath stirring the fine wisps of hairs close to her ear as he spoke.
“You truly are the center of trouble, Miss Leighton. I shall have to dine with an educated suffragette like you more often.”
She shivered as his hand accidentally, or so it seemed, ran the length of her right thigh.
She leaned ever so slightly toward him so she could whisper a reply. “Why would you subject yourself to such a problematic dining arrangement? Would it not be better to enjoy a cold and boring evening with a companion like Miss Pepperwirth?” She shouldn’t provoke him, but damned if he didn’t rile her spirits.
Leo moved back enough that she could see his face clearly as she studied him from beneath her lashes.
“Are you jealous, Miss Leighton? We are but new acquaintances.” There was a thread of insight in his gaze. She certainly didn’t like the idea of her charming prince from childhood settling down with someone like Mildred, but it was not because she was jealous.
“You are!” he accused playfully. “There’s a hint of emerald in your lovely brown eyes.”
She bristled. “I am not jealous, merely confused that you would so quickly turn from distaste to interest where I am concerned. Surely you would have to agree, such an abrupt alteration in your behavior is a little unsettling. Furthermore,” she hissed, with a quick glance about to see if she was being watched, “I believe we have moved beyond new acquaintances; otherwise, I might wonder whether you go about kissing all women you’ve just met.”
He had the nerve to grin, and she was torn between slapping him and…kissing him.
“Distaste? Never. I am merely unaccustomed to such honest discussions by ladies, especially regarding matters of a political nature.” He slid closer, just a threat of invasion of her space, and her skin heated and her breath quickened. “And as for the kisses…you, my dear, were made for kissing. I simply couldn’t resist the temptation.”
Made for kissing? She wasn’t sure if she was furious with him or delighted by the idea. He was made for sin too; that was certain. Just the gleam of more secret meetings when their lips and hands might explore each other again had her heart racing. But she couldn’t let him do that to her again. She had to stay on course and not let Leo distract her from her goals. Letting him seduce her was not something a strong, intelligent young woman would do. Her friends in the Women’s Social and Political Union would be mortified to know she’d let her body succumb to a man’s sensual influence.
“Ahem,” Mr. Hadley interrupted from the seat on the other side of her. They both looked over at him. “You’re drawing attention,” he hummed in a low murmur before smiling at another guest and taking a bite of chocolate truffle. “Best to talk to someone else or Miss Pepperwirth will have your guts for garters.” Mr. Hadley gave the barest hint of a nod in Mildred’s direction. Her scowl was fierce enough to drop a wolf dead in its tracks.
Ivy quickly turned her attentions to Mr. Hadley and allowed him to distract her from thoughts of Leo, until she felt Leo touch her beneath the table. A single fingertip tracing the length of her hand, the whisper of his skin upon her black gloves. The heat of his palm burned deliciously through the silk, and her eyes fell shut for a moment as he lulled her deeper into his subtle enchantment.
“Miss Leighton?” Mr. Hadley’s deep voice broke through and her eyes snapped open. The others at the table were getting up and leaving.
“Excuse me, what were you saying?” she asked. The touch of Leo’s hand vanished and she sensed rather than heard his laugh.
“Would you care to dance?”
Ivy blinked in shock. Footmen were clearing the table. The other guests’ voices echoed down the hall as they headed toward the ballroom. Only she, Leo, and Mr. Hadley remained in their seats.
“She’s dancing with me,” Leo announced. His sharp tone made her look over her shoulder at him.
I am, am I? She huffed and turned back to Mr. Hadley. “Actually, I am not dancing with you, my lord, at least not for the first dance, since you have not officially asked me.” She angled her body away from Leo and toward Owen. “I would be delighted to dance with you, Mr. Hadley.”
She placed her hand in his as they rose and started toward the ballroom. She didn’t have to look back to know that Leo was furious. One kiss didn’t give him any right to her, however she might have wished differently.