A Notorious Proposition

by Adele Ashworth

  That disclosure seemed to calm her a little. Then shrewdly, she asked, “If the authorities didn’t know about the blackmail, how is it possible that you do?”

  He hadn’t thought of that, and without a better idea of what was happening now in Winter Garden, with Sharon and the diamonds still missing, her brother’s lock of hair still clutched in her hand, he simply couldn’t divulge everything. He needed more time—more time with Ivy, and more time to uncover the truth.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he replied, “Your brother came to me personally and asked for my help in preventing the theft of the diamonds.”

  She shook her head, confused. “So…you’re telling me my brother went to the Marquess of Rye, divulging this blackmail scheme, and the diamonds were stolen anyway?” She furrowed her brows. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “It’s complicated—”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He eyed her thoughtfully. “A week before the betrothal ball, your brother and I, with the marquess’s good wishes apparently, made a plan to confront Benedict soon after the party and have him arrested while explaining that the marquess was fully aware of the blackmail scheme and there were no diamonds to give him in exchange for his silence.” He rubbed his jaw with his fingers. “Instead, the diamonds were stolen at the betrothal party anyway, and how, or why, or where they are, nobody really knows. Days later Ian sent word from London that he had been following Benedict, had confronted the man, and that Sharon said he’d exchange the tiara for money, since apparently he’d come to realize he wouldn’t be able to sell the diamonds quickly as they were. The Home Office knew about the theft by then, which was why you were brought in. Our intent was to confront Sharon at the church and have him arrested, hopefully with the diamonds in hand, or at least a confession as to where they might be. But the authorities were never called, never waiting at the church. After I was attacked, the only conclusion I could arrive at was that your brother was involved in everything from the beginning.”

  “You used me,” she whispered, her lips curled, gaze filled with vehemence.

  “No,” he countered at once. “What took place between you and me was never about your brother or the diamonds, you know that, Ivy.”

  She faltered a little in an attempt to believe him, he supposed.

  “What happened at the church, Garrett?”

  She’d asked him that so softly that he barely heard the words. But he knew she was attempting to piece together her own version of what occurred that night with all this new information.

  “You have to trust what I’m going to tell you,” he replied, his voice low and grave.

  She sniffed and shook herself, though her gaze never wavered. “I’ll decide that after you explain it to me.”

  He almost smiled. “Very well,” he agreed as he moved back to the log.

  Lowering his body, he placed his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him as he dropped his gaze to the forest floor.

  “Your brother arranged the meeting place, and I suppose he chose a church because it was quiet, dark, and Sharon wouldn’t question the solitude of the place,” he revealed softly. “I arrived early to meet Ian, but he wasn’t there, and neither was Benedict—or at least I never saw or heard him. I do recall seeing…someone…a woman, I think, standing in the shadow.” He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “And then I was struck on the back of the head. I remember nothing else about that night. For weeks I remained in a hazy dream, in intense pain, uncertain of time and what had happened.” He lifted his lashes and looked up, locking his gaze with hers. “My memory has been damaged, Ivy. Much of it has slowly returned, but—but I don’t remember exactly what happened in the hours before I was struck. I don’t remember the details of being with you.”

  The mixture of shock and anguish to cross her features in that instant nearly took his breath. Within seconds she’d gone from fury and confusion about her brother to disbelief and utter pain.

  “Ivy—”

  “Stop it. Just stop lying, Garrett,” she seethed in a whisper, eyes closed as she brought her fists to her mouth.

  Slowly he stood, but he didn’t move toward her. For a full minute or more he just watched her, not knowing what to expect as she attempted to come to terms with all she’d just learned from him. He understood the ache she felt within, but he couldn’t allow her to wallow in her own pain when so much was still at stake.

  Finally, he said, “I admit I’ve held back many facts from you, Ivy, but I haven’t lied. I’ve never lied to you.”

  Suddenly her eyes flew open, and she laughed, a bitter aching laugh that tore through him. She threw her arms out wide and glared at him.

  “And this is what has become of my well-ordered life,” she blurted, her voice filled with amazement.

  He shook his head and replied, “Your life was never all that well-ordered. What I’ve told you today will at least enlighten you as to the facts, that’s all.”

  She gaped at him. “You remember nothing of me? Of the night you seduced me?” She chuckled again and turned away from him. “How very convenient for you, Garrett.”

  “It hasn’t been convenient for me at all,” he retorted, trying to control his own inner turmoil. “Don’t forget that I was also a victim in this distorted, evil plan. And I have absolutely no idea who set me up to fail.”

  For a long moment she said nothing. Then, in a tone of great sorrow, she maintained, “The difference is that you’ve spent all these months attempting to remember what happened that night, to try to find reason in why you were attacked and by whom, distrusting me in your vain attempt to retrieve those precious diamonds.” Over her shoulder, she whispered, “For me, Garrett, I’ve spent the entire time trying to rid my thoughts of you.”

  He sucked in a breath as her honesty hit home. In a low, grave voice, he replied, “And in my quest to find the diamonds, all I’ve been able to do is think about you.”

  Slowly, she turned to look into his eyes, the breeze blowing loose tendrils of hair into her face, tendrils that went unnoticed.

  He took a step toward her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his twine coat, never dropping his gaze from hers.

  “I don’t remember details, Ivy, but I remember softness,” he admitted in a deep whisper. “I remember that I felt…enchanted by you, and that I desired you from the first moment we met. I remember a scent of lilacs and the sheen of long, auburn hair. I remember a face of exquisite beauty and a gentle laugh.” He bit down hard to contain a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t identify in himself. “I now remember that we made love, that it happened, but so help me God, I don’t remember how it felt, how you felt to the touch, if you enjoyed our time together, and if I pleased you in bed.” He drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. “And right now, even more than I’ve ever wanted to find the Martello diamonds, Ivy, I want to remember every single second I spent with you intimately. I would trade everything for that one detailed memory of you lying naked in my arms.”

  He had no idea what to expect from her after such a heart-wrenching admission on his part. For seconds he remained still, his eyes closed as he thought of his bed in his rented town house in London, of how she must have looked between the sheets, of how he had deceived her and how she must have wanted him as much to risk her future for one night with him. It was all there in his mind, waiting to be retrieved, but edged in a blackness that eluded him.

  “I won’t be your lover again, Garrett.”

  The words, barely heard, crashed down on him, awakening him to the reality of the present, though he noted she’d said them with far less conviction than the last time.

  He opened his eyes as he straightened his posture, his heart sinking into a river of ice as he locked his gaze with hers. She’d grown aloof, her expression flat, and he had to wonder for a moment how she could remain so unaffected by his honesty.

  “What did I do, or say, that hurt you so much two years ago, Ivy?”

&nbs
p; Her eyes widened just enough for him to realize he’d surprised her with the question. She hadn’t considered that by not remembering the specifics of their lovemaking he also didn’t recall much else that happened between them on that night. And right now, for the first time, he realized there had been more involved between them than simply taking her virginity.

  Suddenly she dropped her eyes and hugged herself again. “It’s getting colder. I need to get back to the house.”

  “Answer me first,” he insisted, trying like hell not to sound desperate.

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “Yes. It does.”

  She eyed him candidly, her shoulders squared, features hidden now in a fading twilight. Then she inhaled deeply, and said, “You asked me to marry you, Garrett. You teased me, made love to me, and then asked me to marry you before leaving me alone and uncertain if I carried your child. I waited for you to return, worried beyond reason. I had nobody to turn to, and when I finally discovered days later that you were in hospital, instead of embracing me, or apologizing, or even just allowing me to help you recover, you accused me of being part of the scheme that got you injured.”

  Nothing she could have said would have startled him more. He took a staggered step back, his mind a blank, his head reeling. “Ivy…I—I didn’t—”

  “You didn’t know because you don’t remember,” she interjected in a harsh murmur. “Whether that’s true or not, I will probably never know. But I remember, Garrett. I remember every detail. And now you’ve returned to my life expecting me not to hate you? To understand what you went through? To forgive you and help you find the precious diamonds?”

  “I’m sorry…” he breathed.

  She reached up to close the neck of her pelisse tighter around her throat. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for what happened to you two years ago, and I’m sorry that you can’t let go of the past.” She straightened with determination. “But for right now my only concern is for my brother. Someone here in this small village knows something of him, and he is in danger.” She walked forward until she stood directly in front of him, her expression set with fortitude. “And now I’m going to tell you a secret, Garrett. Someone is blackmailing me.”

  For a second or two, he thought he’d misheard her. And then as her words sunk in, all self-pity and remorse evaporated. “What did you say?”

  She gave a caustic laugh. “Can you believe it? I’m being blackmailed for the Martello diamonds, Garrett. And wouldn’t it be funny if you were the culprit—”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her to him. “I would never threaten you with anything, Ivy, you know that. So tell me exactly what’s going on. Now.”

  She seemed a bit unsettled by his sudden, forceful demand. “Let me go.”

  “Tell me first,” he muttered in anger.

  Her lips thinned with complete indignation. “Before I arrived, I received a note from the Marquess of Rye, through his London solicitor, asking for my assistance in finding the jewels. He didn’t want me to look for ghosts, Garrett, he wanted me to find the Martello diamonds, using my ability as a seer as a false pretense for being here.” She looked him up and down, then with a smirk said, “I know you’re laughing inside, and you can stop it now.”

  “I’m not laughing. Go on.”

  She squirmed in his hands, and he let her go.

  “When I arrived,” she continued through a shiver, “I received a second note, this time sent by post directly to me at the house, stating that in exchange for the Martello diamonds, I can guarantee Ian’s safety. I—I didn’t know what to think of it at first, but then…” She raised the lock of hair, still sitting in her palm. “Then I find this, and I’m starting to think the Marquess of Rye is involved in all of it—everything. He’s the only person we have yet to see or meet in this sordid tale between us, Garrett. He’s the only one who knows my reason for being in the house.” In a drawn-out murmur, she maintained, “And now, according to you, I learn he also knows you, and Ian.”

  If her revelation about his marriage proposal hadn’t astonished him so much, left him so troubled, he might have been able to summon a plausible excuse for her flawed reasoning. But in all truth, it wasn’t flawed. He’d sent her the original note, of course, to get her to come to Winter Garden in the first place, but never would he stoop to threats or blackmail. And under normal circumstances she might believe that—but this wasn’t a normal circumstance at all. If he disclosed his identity now, not only would she despise him forever, she would probably trust him less than ever, especially as he attempted to explain.

  But she was right. The most important thing at the moment was the fact that someone knew something about her brother, and after discovering the lock of hair, he was beginning to believe the man might truly be in danger, regardless of his involvement or lack thereof in stealing the diamonds two years ago. Details could be worked out later.

  Yet beneath it all, nagging him in the far recesses of his mind, he still had to wonder if Ivy and her brother were actually playing him for a fool. He just didn’t know what to believe—her explanations about their past, his proposal of marriage, or his sparse memory of two years ago, which really told him little and filled him with suspicion.

  One thing was certain: He would make love to her again. He’d known it from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her in Winter Garden. Now she knew it, too, deep down. Desire was something he could sense in Ivy. She would never be able to deceive him in bed, and getting her to succumb to him again might be the only way to ensure her forgiveness for everything when he finally revealed the truth.

  “I’m staying at the house from this night forward,” he said matter-of-factly.

  She snorted. “You absolutely are not.”

  He dragged a palm down his face. “Ivy, someone has access to your bedroom, someone who may not hesitate to hurt you. Leaving a lock of your brother’s hair wasn’t simply to scare you. It’s a message letting you, and maybe even me, know we’re being watched, and that whoever it is can get to you. Someone is toying with us, and regardless of what happened in the past, I simply cannot allow you to stay in your room at night alone.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “I’m not alone. Mrs. Thurman—”

  “—and everyone else is below stairs. They probably wouldn’t even hear you scream.”

  She seemed to waver with that remark, biting her lower lip and casting a swift glance toward the house, now shadowed in darkness.

  “No,” she tried again, sounding less convinced, “you simply cannot stay in the house, Garrett. It would cause a scandal, and I’d be ruined.”

  “Not if nobody knows I’m there.”

  Confusion lit her brown eyes. “How—” And then it dawned on her. “You plan to enter through the tunnel?”

  He smiled satisfactorily. “Indeed. Through the tunnel.”

  She hesitated just long enough for him to know he’d won the argument. In a softer tone, he amended, “You’ll have the privacy you need, but I’m taking control from this moment forward. From now on we are working together to solve this mystery.”

  She sighed. “Garrett, I don’t trust you, and I don’t like you.”

  “Yes, I know,” he replied nonchalantly. Then with little fanfare, he inhaled a breath for confidence and strode forward to place his palms on her cheeks. Startled, she could do nothing but stand there and stare into his eyes.

  With a trace of a smile on his lips, he leaned over and kissed her, gently at first, then deeply, with a passion built from years of frustration and desire for the return of every memory they’d shared. And she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave in to the need, as she heated his blood with the softness of her mouth and a whimper of longing that pleaded for more.

  His cold thumbs caressed the warm skin of her cheeks as he cradled her head. Her breasts, hidden beneath layers of clothing, teased his chest and struck him suddenly with a vague image of silky skin and hardened, rosy nipples he ached to t
aste once more. Just one more time…

  Very gradually, before he lost control of what sanity he still possessed, he pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. For moments they said nothing, their breath mingling in the icy air. And then he felt a tear on his thumb, and it seared him inside.

  “You can’t fight destiny, Ivy,” he whispered.

  She shook her head quickly in tiny movements. “I won’t be your lover again.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Let’s solve one problem at a time.”

  She didn’t reply, but allowed him to take her hand as they made their way back onto the path and headed toward the house.

  Chapter 12

  Ivy was restless, and growing more worried by the day. It had been a week since Garrett’s decision to invade her privacy and sleep in her bedchamber with her each night. Thankfully, true to his word, he’d been a gentleman about the entire thing, leaving his day clothes on and sleeping on the small settee beside the grate. He couldn’t possibly be comfortable, but then his comfort remained the least of her worries.

  He arrived each night after Newbury lit her fire, and left each morning before Jane awakened her with her tea and bath. He’d kept to his word about allowing her privacy by staying away from her withdrawing room while she attended to personal needs. She’d also chosen to wear her most discreet nightgown to bed along with her lightweight robe, which she refused to remove. He’d teased her about it the first night, though he hadn’t mentioned it since.

  Tonight she had news for him, and in waiting impatiently for his appearance through the secret entrance, she paced the floor.