by Lauren Smith
“Traditional is exactly what I need, Mother. You’d have me marry some suffragette who’d tear down the laws and rules that keep our society intact? It would destroy my estate.” How the devil had his mother circled back to the topic he wished for her to forget?
“I think those women who fight for the vote are wonderful!” His mother’s voice rose a little and color deepened her cheeks. If he wasn’t careful, he’d upset her again and he didn’t want to do that. Best to concede some battles in order to win the war, as Owen Hadley would say. Owen would know, of course, seeing as how he’d fought in the war where battles had been all too real.
“They are indeed brave ladies, Mother. I wouldn’t disagree on that. I simply think they would not make the most respectable of wives. I need someone I can depend upon to support my decisions for the estate, not undermine them.” A woman with her head in the clouds, dreaming of voting and equal rights was…trouble. He could admire a woman for fighting for something she believed in, but he certainly didn’t want to marry a woman like that.
“You’d doom yourself to a life without love?” Her voice trembled slightly as though she were deeply wounded by his reaction. She made as if to stand, but he reached out, caught her hand, and held it.
“Mother, sit. Please.” Her words stirred something in him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea…to get so lost in another person that you could not live without them. His father had done that with his mistress, a woman who hadn’t cared for him the moment she knew her furnished lifestyle was at an end. Leo wanted to avoid such a fate with every fiber of his being.
Living a reckless bachelor life was one thing, but he’d never been foolish enough to allow himself to fall in love. It would be far too dangerous to open one’s self up to such a weakness. He didn’t want anyone to have power over his heart. His mother had loved his father, and she’d ended up perfectly unhappy when he’d abandoned her for a mistress. Love was a risk he would not take. He shoved the idea out of his mind, focusing on things he knew he could control.
“I think a house party is a wonderful idea, Mother. But do invite some people I know. I saw Hadley at the club yesterday. Drop him an invitation for me. In fact, invite the Pepperwirths as well.” He winked at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. He swore she muttered something about Mildred under her breath. Leo stifled a laugh. As long as his mother was in a mood to fence with him verbally, that meant she was all right and he hadn’t upset her too terribly by refusing to let her attend the suffragette meeting.
He wasn’t thrilled about the social obligations that houseguests would create, but he couldn’t deny he had been burdened lately with far too much work. A party might improve his mood if only for the distraction it would provide. It was a pity he was no longer able to indulge in old habits. The Leo Graham he’d once been would have made it his mission to bed every willing and lovely lady under his roof.
Damn being respectable. It was going to kill him.
I’ll have to find some other means of entertainment.
Keeping his mother from marrying him off to someone during the party would be his chief objective, and it would be amusing to see what schemes she came up with.
“You really insist I invite the Pepperwirths?”
He nodded, biting his lip to hide a smile as he enjoyed her squirming. He knew she liked Lord and Lady Pepperwirth, but she balked at his idea of marrying Mildred, simply because she found Mildred boring.
His mother threw up her hands and huffed. “Leo, shame on you. I expected more of a reaction than that. How is it you’re a child of my blood?”
She stood to leave, and he could only sit back in his chair and glance down at Ladybird. Her canine brown eyes met his, and she seemed just as perplexed as he was by the entire situation. Her tail thumped the ground rhythmically and she nudged his hand until he stroked her head.
His mother wanted him to run off with a woman who made his blood burn. He couldn’t afford to. Hampton needed its earl to be calm and in control. Many of his peers were not adjusting to the new age and thus were losing everything their families had built over centuries. His mother was too old-fashioned to see the changes sweeping England. Farmland was less valuable, and the tenancies on the estate weren’t prospering as they had in the past.
Leo couldn’t even begin to count the hours he’d spent working until the last candle burned out in his study. Or the endless meetings he’d arranged with his steward, Mr. Holmesbury, as they tried to salvage what they could of a crumbling way of life. Their way of life. Everything that mattered to him. They could lose it all if he didn’t succeed. Grand houses cost far too much, as did the servants they employed.
Running the tip of his finger over the white china plates fringed with a blue flower pattern, he drew in a deep breath. A heavy weight settled over his chest and shoulders, an invisible burden he could not remove, not so long as he continued to love Hampton House and the people who lived within it. They were a part of this place, a part of its history, just as he was.
If any sacrifices could be made, he would fight to keep Hampton just as it was for as long as possible. He had made his plans. He would marry Mildred, use her fortune to sustain Hampton during the transitions taking place in England, and that would be the end of it. Nothing would change his mind. Nothing.
Wilhelmina, Dowager Countess of Hampton, peered around the door to the dining room, watching her son finish his luncheon in silence. Ever since he’d returned from London a week ago, he’d been glum and predictable in his daily routine. Working from morning till midnight.
Leo took another bite of his lunch before he reached for the stack of letters on the silver tray to his left, a soft sigh escaping as his shoulders drooped. Ladybird sat at his side, tail swiping across the floor in gentle swishes as she waited for crumbs. The dog whined softly and he petted her absently.
He painted a perfectly boring picture of country life, and it deepened the ache in her heart for him. Leo had been a wonderful child, always exploring, always questing for adventures and causing trouble, the way any good lad should. Mina hadn’t been deaf to the rumors of his many paramours or the broken hearts he’d left behind him. At least he’d been a man of passion and action.
Now he was…not. This new Leo was not a son she wished to call her own. He was world-weary, his eyes dark with sorrow and his lips perpetually pursed as he let worries and anxieties drown him. How could he not see that only the bold and courageous men would continue on in this new world, where the ancient houses were crumbling and being broken apart?
She shuddered. The Ashfords had heard their home would be gutted and the grand staircases, the tapestries, even the marble tiles would be sold off to different bidders. Nothing would be left of the grand house or the family who had lived there nearly as long as the Grahams had lived at Hampton House.
We are soon to be ghosts of a forgotten era. We must change; we must adapt. It was one of the reasons she was so determined to attend the suffragette meeting in the small village close to Hampton House. A good number of ladies were coming down from London to attend in order to escape the harsh reactions their gathering would draw in London. Things had to change; people had to change. Men needed to recognize that women were just as smart and as valuable in society.
Leo could not marry a traditional woman. He needed someone who would stand at his side and face the future without fear. Mina would do just about anything to see him married to a fierce Amazon who would battle at his side.
“My lady?” Mr. Gordon, the butler, whispered as he joined his mistress by the door.
She turned and placed a finger to her lips and pointed to Leo.
“Have all the preparations been made for our guests?”
Gordon’s face, usually a study of seriousness, softened with pride, and he puffed his chest a bit. “Of course, my lady. I received a telegram from Mr. Leighton. Miss Ivy is coming down early in her father’s motorcar.”
Mina moved back a few steps from the door
as she clapped her hands together in silent glee. Her plan was coming together perfectly. She’d invited Ivy down to Hampton on the pretext of attending the suffragette meeting together, and she’d convinced the young lady that visiting for the house party would be fun.
“Did Mr. Leighton say if he was able to tamper with the motorcar?”
Gordon frowned a little, concern darkening his expression as he handed her the folded telegram. He had known Miss Ivy as long as Mina had and the idea of putting her at risk seemed to upset him.
“Mr. Leighton assured me her motorcar would be close enough to the house but that she’d be stranded. We should make sure to suggest his lordship take a drive around half-past two on Friday. He’ll be sure to come across her on the main road.”
She hastily read the note herself, grinning a little before slipping it into her dress pocket.
Poor Leo. He was most determined to marry that awful Pepperwirth girl. If all went according to Mina’s plans, his intended betrothal would soon be at an end, and her son would fall in love with a woman far more worthy of him. A girl he’d known many years ago, one who’d loved him with all her heart before tragedy had forced their destinies apart.
Ivy Leighton was a modern woman who shared Mina’s views on women’s rights and would be the best match for her son. Assuming he could see past the fact that she was a suffragette. Mina’s lips twitched. No doubt when he met Ivy again, he would find her very grown up and very much changed from the little girl who used to stare at him with stars in her eyes and her heart on her sleeve. She only hoped he would see Ivy as Mina did, as the woman who could save his soul and save Hampton House.
Perhaps I am a meddlesome mama, but Leo should know that I won’t leave his choice of wife up to fate.
Chapter 3
Ivy Leighton swiped at the billowing black clouds smothering her. Coughing, she removed her driving goggles and tossed them onto the seat of her new Hudson Speedabout. The broken speedabout. Her father was going to be furious. She’d asked to drive it, and only a few miles from her destination, the engine had made a ghastly screeching sound like a dying falcon. Dark smoke plumed out from beneath the yellow hood, painting a dark picture against the deep blue sky.
“Oh dear,” she groaned.
She wiped her brow with the back of a gloved hand and it came away dirty. A cool September breeze teased at a loose tendril of her hair from beneath her flat hat. She tried to brush it away, but the thick veil tied around her hat made it more than a little complicated. She unbuttoned her tan linen duster, feeling a little flustered by the Hudson’s sudden failure.
What on earth was she going to do? Walk to Hampton House? Why had she thought coming early by herself was a good idea? Because she was plagued by curiosity. Sixteen years ago she had left Hampton, her mother’s body barely cold in the ground. How much had the place changed? How much had he changed?
Leo…his name still made her shiver.
Handsome, charming Leo. When she’d been eight, he’d been sixteen, and a lifetime seemed to have separated them. Now she was twenty-four and he had to be…she did the math. Thirty-two? Would he still have the ability to consume her soul with those fathomless blue eyes? A part of her was afraid to see him again after all these years. Had her girlhood memories been the stuff of fantasies or was he still the man she’d always loved?
After six Seasons in London, she hadn’t found anyone who measured up to Leo Graham, the Earl of Hampton, and she feared she never would. But…what if she arrived at Hampton House and found that he wasn’t the man she believed him to be?
With a little shake of her head, Ivy recalled the way he used to tease her, tap the tip of her nose with a finger and call her Button.
“Button indeed,” she muttered.
Her nose was no longer buttonlike, at least not completely. Leo hadn’t seen her since she’d outgrown her oversized eyes, knobby knees, and pert nose. Ivy tried to quell the fleet of butterflies that stormed against the battlements of her stomach.
She was nothing like the English beauties who were so favored by the gentlemen at the balls during the Season. That was the problem with being half Gypsy rather than a full-blooded English rose. Still, she knew she was pretty, in an exotic sort of way, but would Leo think her desirable? Ivy had been a favorite of many men. Her father’s position, as well as her own heritage, made them believe she had no morals.
A non-Romani or gadjo’s sense of Gypsies was always wrong. Women of the Romani culture were anything but loose. Still, that awful cultural misunderstanding led to more than one man to offer her a position as his mistress. An offer that she had to politely refuse without making a scene, even though such a request deserved a slap.
Hopefully Leo would be different.
Not that I should truly care, she reminded herself. She was only coming to Hampton House to see the dowager countess and to attend a suffragette meeting with her. Lady Hampton had insisted that Ivy stay for the house party. She’d reminded Leo’s mother that she wasn’t coming to husband hunt but to see old friends. Ivy firmly believed a modern woman couldn’t have a husband, at least not a man born into the British peerage. They stood against women’s rights and that was something that she could never reconcile.
She’d watched her mother work tirelessly as a servant for years in a world where her voice hadn’t mattered. Witnessing her mother’s inability to live the life she truly wanted before she’d died had changed Ivy. Without the right and the power to speak, a person ceased to exist.
After her mother died, she’d been reunited with her father and it had become clear just how powerless she was as a woman. Although he loved and adored her, even he could not give her power over her own life in the way men had. She could not even control her own inheritance; it had to be held in trust by a man. It seemed like everywhere she turned was a dead end. No way out. To be ensnared in a gilded cage meant she was still trapped. The thought made her recoil. Marry a man who would trap her and destroy her independence? No, she would never agree to that. But still…seeing Leo again after all this time would be nice.
Turning her attention back to the Hudson, she knew she’d have to leave it on the shoulder of the road for now. As she reached for her valise, the gravel on the road slipped beneath her boots. A panicked cry escaped her lips as she fell headfirst into the space behind the driver’s seat. Her legs wiggled in the air as she struggled in vain to propel herself back upright.
“Blast and hell!” she cursed, fighting wildly to get her body into a position that could leverage her back down. Her dress and coat tangled around her knees.
The purr of another motorcar’s engine made her freeze. A cool breeze caressed her where her travel dress bunched around her thighs. Whoever had just stopped on the road had a prime view of her legs.
The motor died. Footsteps crunching on gravel warned her of someone’s approach, and her body went rigid in apprehension. Fear ratcheted up inside her until she was gasping for breath and thrashing to get back on her feet.
“Er…excuse me, miss. May I help?” a rich, smooth voice asked.
“Oh, yes, please. I’m in a spot of bother it seems.”
“I’m going to touch you, miss. Please do not panic.” The man’s gloved hands settled on her ankles, then slid to her calves as he pulled her down. Tingles of awareness shot through her body, making her twitch in the oddest places.
Ivy tried not to let it ruffle her that some strange man’s hands were on her legs. She’d never liked feeling vulnerable, and this was perhaps the most exposed she’d ever been in her life. It was unsettling to say the least. She slid down the side of the Hudson, her face heating and the blood pounding in her ears. When she turned to her rescuer, her heart skittered to a stop, and she sucked in a breath.
Leo.
For a long moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She was a girl again, crying as her mother lay dying. Leo’s long, muscular body had been solid and warm behind her as he held her while she wept. He’d been comfort and
heat and light where she’d only endured darkness in her mother’s last hours.
Of course it would be him. He’d be the one to find her covered in road dust, legs flailing in the air, and stuck with a broken down motorcar. She was always at her worst when he was around. Lady Fate evidently didn’t like her.
Is there no end to my bad luck?
“Thank you,” she said, uncertain if she should say her name. Would he even remember her? Surely not…
With an unexpected deftness, he adjusted her hat, which had been knocked slightly askew during her tumble into the motorcar, and pushed the sides of the veil back as though to get a better look at her face. His lips kicked into a grin, and her heart fluttered back to life. Lord, the man was handsome. His aquiline nose and strong jaw, lips a little thin, but no less appealing, and a halo of golden hair blowing in the breeze. And those eyes, eyes she’d dreamt about for years. More beautiful than she’d remembered.
“You’re welcome, Miss…” He waited for her to introduce herself.
So he didn’t remember her, then? It stung, yet perhaps that was for the best, given the secret mission Leo’s mother had entrusted her with. It was best he did not recognize her and she did not wish to be remembered as “Button.”
“My name is Ivy Leighton.”
Her name had no effect on him, not that it should have. She’d taken her father’s surname after she’d left Hampton and she couldn’t remember a time when Leo had called her Ivy. Perhaps he didn’t even know it was her name. She hadn’t mentioned her mother’s maiden name, Jameson, so there was the real possibility he wouldn’t recognize her at all. Ivy wasn’t a unique name, not really.
Leo captured one of her gloved hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Leighton, even under such trying circumstances.” His lips twitched at the last few words as though he was doing his best not to tease her. “I see you are having some difficulties with your automobile.” His eyes roved over the state of the smoking motorcar behind her, assessing the situation.