Ready Set Rogue

Home > Other > Ready Set Rogue > Page 13
Ready Set Rogue Page 13

by Manda Collins


  To her dismay, Daphne, Sophia, and Gemma followed behind her and without asking permission, filed in through the door to her bedchamber.

  Polly was there watching two footmen like a hawk while they filled the slipper tub in Ivy’s dressing room. Turning when she heard the door though, she rushed forward. “Miss, I’m glad to see you’re well. The rains came upon us sudden-like, and I just knew you were caught up in it.”

  Once the footmen were gone, and Ivy’s fellow scholars had seated themselves around the room, the maid led her like a child into the dressing room and helped her out of her wet clothes, tut-tutting and tsk-tsking all the way when she saw how wet her pelisse and gown were, and pronounced that her boots needed a thorough cleaning. “I’ll take these down, and you get into that hot bath at once.”

  Thanking the girl, and grateful for the chance to be alone after her ordeal, Ivy slid into the hot water, her cold skin stinging a little at the change in temperature. She closed her eyes and breathed in the lavender-scented steam, and was once more in the little cottage, Quill’s warm body heavy on hers. How could a few hours have changed her whole life so utterly? For though she hadn’t agreed to anything yet, she had a feeling that one way or the other Quill would get his way. From the moment they’d met she’d known he was a man accustomed to getting his way. And though she’d since learned that he didn’t lack the capacity for compromise, he was certainly not quick to change his mind. Or to admit defeat.

  A knock on the door broke into her reverie, and she called out for them to come in—for she had little doubt who had knocked.

  “Surely you didn’t think you could just hide away in here and escape us,” Sophia said cheerily as she stepped in, followed by Daphne and Gemma.

  “She’s relentless,” Gemma said to Ivy with an apologetic smile. “It is far easier to concede defeat in the face of her inquiries.”

  “How unloyal you are, Gem,” her sister chided. “I am perfectly reasonable. I simply have an inquisitive nature. That is all.”

  “That is what I try to tell people about me,” Daphne said, aggrieved. “But I am forever being called rude and impertinent. But why should I not ask questions when I have them? It is how one learns, after all.”

  Having grown up with a houseful of sisters, Ivy was used to a lack of privacy and to being interrogated. So she wasn’t particularly worried about her ability to keep her own counsel. Still, there was something familiar about being surrounded by inquisitive ladies that made her feel at home, and for that she was grateful.

  While they chatted amongst themselves, she washed her hair, and finally warm and ready to talk, she said, “If you’ll hand me that towel, Sophia, I’ll get out of the tub and we can go see if the sandwiches have been sent up.” As if to emphasize her words, her stomach gave a low growl.

  “By all means,” Sophia said, handing her the towel. Ivy stood and wrapped herself up in it and used another for her hair.

  Once she’d dried off and wrapped herself in a thick robe, she led the other three into her bedchamber, where a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches had been laid out on a little serving table near the fire.

  Bless Mrs. Bacon, she thought as she took a seat and bit into one of the sandwiches.

  Gemma, meanwhile, poured each of them a cup of the steaming tea.

  “I must confess that I thought for a while on the trek back that I’d never be warm again,” Ivy said after a few fortifying sips. “I’ve never been so happy to be indoors in my life.”

  “Did you get your letter posted?” Sophia asked with an ease that made Ivy suspicious. “It must have taken quite a bit of time, for you were gone for several hours.”

  “We looked in on the local physician so that Lord Kerr could thank him for all he did for Lady Celeste while she was ill,” Ivy said in what was not precisely a lie—Quill had thanked Dr. Vance. It was just that it hadn’t been all they’d talked about. “That took quite a bit, for his wife came to look in on us and we chatted for quite a long while.”

  “That was kind of his lordship,” Gemma said with approval. “I gather from what Lady Serena has said, he and his aunt were quite close.”

  “Then one would think he would respect her wishes and not be so difficult about her leaving Beauchamp House to us,” Daphne said, her lips pursed in disapproval. “It isn’t as if he is destitute without this house. According to Lady Serena, the Kerr marquisate counts seven estates and manor houses amongst its holdings. And that’s not counting Kerr Castle and the London townhouse.”

  Ivy felt her heart beat faster at hearing the extent of Quill’s estates. If she were to accept his proposal, lacking in finesse as it had been, she would be mistress of all those places.

  Never in her life had she longed for the sort of wealth generations of Kerrs had likely taken for granted. Oh, on occasion she’d wished her family had enough to own their own carriage or to buy some hat that had taken her fancy. But that wasn’t the same as wishing she could become a marchioness and move in wealthy circles. She found most social evenings tedious and would rather speak with a hundred impoverished scholars than one society fribble. The idea of being forced to do so for the rest of her life was disconcerting to say the least.

  “I suppose he has a sentimental attachment to it,” Gemma said with a shrug. “I’d be the same if strangers were to inherit our family home.”

  “They will,” Sophia said wryly. “Though we can hope that Papa will live for a very long time before Cousin Everett can even dream of inheriting.”

  “We can only hope,” Gemma said “It’s not the same as what’s happened here with Beauchamp House, of course, since he has his own estate, but I can understand somewhat his reluctance to accept his aunt’s decision.”

  “You’re quiet, Ivy,” Sophia said, her gaze intent. “And you’ve spent more time than any of us in Lord Kerr’s company. What do you think about his reaction to learning we’d inherited Beauchamp House?”

  Ivy blushed, hoping that her changed attitude toward Quill wasn’t as obvious to them as it was to her. “I can see why he would be disappointed, of course,” she said after a moment, with what she hoped was a careless shrug. “But I think he’s resigned himself to it. At least, that is what he implied this afternoon. We didn’t really talk much about it.”

  “What did you talk about, then?” Gemma asked, her curiosity making her eyes bright. “For I must confess I find him handsome as the very devil.”

  “Don’t swear, Gemma,” Sophia said reflexively as if used to correcting this impropriety on her sister’s part.

  Gemma rolled her eyes, confirming Ivy’s suspicion that this was a common argument between the sisters.

  Wishing she could latch onto their quibbling instead of answering Gemma’s question, Ivy decided that a direct response would likely be less suspicious.

  “We spoke about all sorts of things,” she said breezily. “He told me a little about how he and his cousins spent childhood summers here. And he told me quite a bit about Lady Celeste and her championing of bluestocking issues.”

  “You must have had a long time to talk waiting out the storm,” Sophia said with a speaking glance as Ivy realized that she’d been far less clever about hiding her feelings than she’d thought.

  “I suppose so,” she responded with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t really notice.”

  “Hmm,” Gemma said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “An afternoon alone, a convenient rainstorm. Just what did happen on the road from the village, Miss Wareham?”

  Chapter 16

  Ivy was saved from replying to Gemma’s question by Daphne, though perhaps “saved” wasn’t quite the right term.

  “Your gown was almost dry when you arrived back,” Daphne declared into the silence that followed Gemma’s query. “So you must have waited it out somewhere. The air is far too wet for it to have done so while you walked back. Therefore, you must have got wet, gone indoors with a fire, then set out once the rain stopped. Either that or you never got wet in the firs
t place.”

  Ivy bit back a frustrated sigh as she felt all three ladies staring at her with varying degrees of curiosity. So much for keeping the interlude in the little cottage a secret, she thought.

  * * *

  “As it happens,” she said raising her chin in defiance at her companions’ raised brows, “we did take shelter in a little cottage the shepherds use. It was quite rustic, but it was at least dry. Lord Kerr built a fire and that helped to dry our clothes.”

  “How cozy,” Gemma said with a twinkle in her eyes. “I might even go so far as to call it romantic.”

  “I do not know why ladies are so intent upon calling what is a perfectly rational response to being caught in the rain romantic,” Daphne argued. “We do not call it romantic when the wild animals seek out shelter from a storm.”

  “But we are not animals, Daphne,” said Sophia with a tilt of her head. “Indeed, such an interlude could be called scandalous in some circles. I certainly do not think Lady Serena would be pleased to know of it. I wonder if Lord Kerr will tell her. For it behooves him as a gentleman to do so.”

  At this idea, Ivy sat up straighter. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d promised.

  “However,” Sophia continued, “I suspect he will not. Unless something untoward happened while you were there.”

  Ivy’s guilt must have shown on her face, for Gemma clapped her hands. “It did! Did he kiss you? Of course he did. A man like that would never let an occasion like that—being holed up with a pretty girl—pass by without taking some sort of liberty.”

  Despite herself, Ivy felt the need to defend Quill. “You must have a very poor opinion of Lord Kerr,” she said with a frown.

  But far from being abashed, Gemma shrugged. “Not particularly, but he is a man who seems to know what he wants. And one would have to be blind not to notice how he looked at you last night.”

  “And how was that?” Ivy asked, half-dreading the answer.

  “As if he wanted to bed you,” Daphne said baldly.

  At the collective gasp from the other ladies, Ivy scowled. “It was obvious that was what he wanted. Men are quite transparent about that sort of thing at times. Ridiculous society rules mean we cannot speak openly of such things, but I thought you were all too smart to fall prey to those things.”

  “Daphne, dearest,” said Ivy after a muffled laugh, “we might all of us think that society rules are silly at times, but that doesn’t mean we should speak whatever crosses our minds. It might prove uncomfortable for one’s companions. And one doesn’t wish to make others uncomfortable, does one?”

  “I can hardly be held responsible for how another person feels,” Daphne said with a shake of her head. “For one thing, I have a very hard time knowing what others feel to begin with. But I will agree that I do not wish to make others unhappy. I simply cannot seem to figure out why plain speaking is so wrong. If we are to understand one another, why not be as precise as we can be?”

  “It’s all right, Daphne,” said Sophia, squeezing the other girl’s arm. “We are private here, so you haven’t offended anyone. And your assessment of Lord Kerr’s looks at Ivy is accurate. I would have put it more delicately, but that’s beside the point.” Turning to Ivy, she continued, “I find it very hard to believe that a man who gets what he wants most of the time would not take the opportunity to steal a kiss at the very least while you were all alone together.”

  Knowing that if she did not tell them, they’d continue to harass her until she confessed, Ivy sighed. “Yes, he kissed me. Are you happy now? You have winkled out my secret.”

  “I knew it!” Gemma said with triumph. “Especially when the two of you could barely look at each other when you returned. A word of advice for the next time this situation befalls you, my dear. Do not avoid the gentleman’s gaze. It quite gives you away when you do that. You have to behave as normal no matter how much you might balk at the thought.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I must take shelter from a storm with a handsome gentleman, Gemma,” Ivy said wryly. “I thank you for the advice.”

  “It is unlikely that such a thing will happen again,” Daphne said. “The odds are quite steep.”

  Ignoring the other two, Sophia eyed Ivy with a suspicious eye. “Men have been called out for less, Ivy. Unless of course he offered to make things right.”

  Not liking the direction Sophia’s enquiry was taking, Ivy changed the subject. “I almost forgot the most frightening part,” she said, hoping that the others would forget about her confession about Quill. “We were almost run over by a runaway cart.”

  That had the effect Ivy had been looking for.

  “In the village?” Gemma demanded, her brow furrowed.

  “Was this before or after you were caught in the storm?” Sophia asked, looking concerned. “Either way, it’s no wonder you were out of sorts, you poor thing.”

  “I was once almost trampled by a horse,” Daphne offered with a sympathetic nod. “It was quite unpleasant.”

  Grateful that her subterfuge had worked, Ivy couldn’t help but recall that the incident had been unsettling. “Lord Kerr was able to get me out of the way in time, but it was a near thing.”

  Speculatively, Sophia tilted her head to look at Ivy. “That explains the kissing, then,” she said with an air of one who knows.

  “What do you mean?” Ivy asked.

  “Danger,” Sophia said firmly. “It brings out the baser passions.”

  Thinking about just how passionate Quill had been in the little cottage, Ivy couldn’t help but agree. Still, she didn’t want to go down that conversational road again. “I find myself quite exhausted after this morning’s ordeal,” she said, and was then overcome by an actual sigh of exhaustion. “Do you mind very much if we discuss this later?”

  Sophia shook her head in disappointment, but did not press. “I can only imagine,” she said softly, and Ivy was quite certain that Sophia had guessed the truth.

  Her sister, meanwhile, rose and gave Ivy an impulsive hug. “I’m quite jealous, you know,” she said with a grin that removed any sting from the pronouncement. “If he weren’t obviously dazzled by your beauty, I would have tried to catch his eye myself. But I don’t think he would be the sort to enjoy digging around in the sand for fossils, so I’ll concede gracefully.”

  “You are pale,” Daphne said, eyeing Ivy as if she were one of Gemma’s fossils. “And there are dark circles beneath your eyes. You should rest.”

  After Gemma’s praise of her beauty, Ivy almost laughed outright at Daphne’s plain speaking. “Thank you, Daphne. I will endeavor to rest so that I will look better at supper.”

  “Don’t think this is over,” Sophia said into Ivy’s ear as she gave her a hug. Then, with a saucy wink, she followed the other two from the room.

  Ivy shut the door behind them and fell back against it with a sigh.

  It seemed years since she’d gone down to breakfast this morning. But rather than dwell on everything that had happened, she padded on bare feet over the thick carpet and climbed into her bed, which Polly had turned down for her before she had slipped out.

  She was asleep almost before she could pull up the coverlet.

  * * *

  After he’d had a bath and changed into dry clothes, Quill made his way downstairs in search of Serena. He might not divulge the whole of what had passed in the little cottage, but he would at the very least let her know that he meant to offer for Ivy. Let her make of that what she would.

  He found his cousin in her private sitting room going over the household accounts with Mrs. Bacon. As soon as he stepped into the room, however, the housekeeper rose and gathered up the ledger she and Serena had been looking through.

  “I’m pleased to see you’re none the worse for wear after your soaking, my lord,” she said with the ease of someone who had known him since he was younger than Serena’s boy. “I’ll just come back later to finish up with these, my lady,” she said to Serena before leaving the room with a
curtsy.

  “I hope that Ivy, too, is none the worse for wear,” Serena said wryly after the door had closed behind Mrs. Bacon. “For I had the feeling when you both returned that something more than just being caught in the rain had occurred. Of course, that may have been my imagination. Please tell me that is the case.”

  Moving to stand before the fireplace, where he made a closer-than-necessary examination of a fatuous-looking shepherdess figurine, Quill was silent for a moment before turning around to meet Serena’s eyes.

  “Perhaps,” he said with a slight shrug. “But that is between Miss Wareham and myself.”

  Serena’s eyes narrowed. “Since I have been entrusted with her care while she is under this roof,” she said with raised brows, “then I believe that is not quite true.”

  “And because you are her chaperone,” he said calmly, “I have come to tell you that I mean to offer for Miss Wareham’s hand. So the particulars of this afternoon are not the point.”

  But rather than being placated, Serena was so annoyed she rose from her chair and began to pace. “I should never have agreed to let her go with you this morning. I knew one of them would likely get into some scrape while I was in charge of them, but I never imagined it would happen in the first few days of their residency. In Ivy’s case, it’s only her first full day in Beauchamp House. That must be some sort of record!”

  “Do not take on so, Serena,” Quill said, stepping in his cousin’s path to stop her agitated trek across the carpet. “It’s no reflection on you as a chaperone. These things happen. You could hardly predict that a storm would force us to take shelter alone in an uninhabited cottage.”

  “Oh god,” Serena groaned. “Could you be any more of a cliché? A cottage in the rain, Quill? It might have been penned in a Minerva Press novel, it’s so trite. I might have expected it from you. But I thought Miss Wareham was much more sensible than to fall prey to your charms. And you, as the head of the family, know better.”

  Something about her dismissal rankled with him. Perhaps it was a cliché, but it had been damned cozy in that cottage. A damned sight more than this room at present, he thought. “I will thank you not to speak about my betrothed’s sense—lacking or otherwise,” he said through clenched teeth. “And I am well aware of what my duty is. Which is why I intend to marry her.”

 

‹ Prev