The duke’s brow lifted in apparent shock at hearing Michael’s confession. “Trade?”
Michael gulped, and then choked out, “Copper mining.”
“I understand there’s a great need for cooper with the war,” Westbury began.
“A profitable endeavor,” Michael agreed with a nod, hoping with every breath he took that the man wouldn’t rescind his permission regarding his courtship of his sister. “Lady Ivy would never want for anything.”
At that, the duke released a bark of laughter. “My dear Lord Michael, my sister wants for everything, as we are being honest with each other.” Then he shook his head. “Though it may not matter at all as I believe you have much more confidence in your ability to secure her heart than I have.”
“She has my heart,” Michael admitted, glancing across the way to find Ivy staring quite pointedly at the two of them. Even as the words left his lips, he knew they were true. Ivy Dallimore did hold his heart in her delicate hands, which was the last thing he’d ever expected when he’d agreed to return to Cornwall. “So I do have to try.”
Westbury sobered a bit as he nodded in understanding. “In that case, I do wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, as I believe you will need every bit of it you can get.”
They were definitely talking about her, Ivy was certain of that. For one thing, Michael kept glancing in her direction, and for another he had absolutely nothing else in common with her brother. It wasn’t possible they were discussing anything else. Besides, Michael had said he wanted to court her.
Blast him.
Michael Beck had a scandalous reputation. So why would he be so proper about this and when it least suited Ivy?
Her stomach knotted, almost painfully. And then…
Of all the rotten luck!
Lord Hayfield, looking much chagrined, shuffled to over to her. “Lady Ivy,” he began, wincing slightly. “I believe I owe you an apology. I…”
Oh, he owed her much more than that, horrid man that he was. “Honestly, Lord Hayfield—”
“…believe I imbibed too heavily last night and…”
That was the excuse he was going to go with? He had smelled of alcohol, though imbibing too much was hardly an excuse for the way he’d manhandled her. If anyone had seen them, he could have completely ruined her reputation.
“…I would like to do the honorable thing, and…”
“No!” Ivy blurted out before he could finish that sentence! Good heavens! Had the insolvent earl set out to ruin her reputation on purpose? She thought she might be ill at the thought.
Hayfield blinked at her. “Well, I—”
“That is,” Ivy began, feigning ignorance to his deceitful little ploy, “I would never trap you in such a way, my lord, or leave your reputation at risk. And as no one stumbled upon us, then no one is the wiser. After all, I would never breathe a word to anyone, as that would hardly be fair to you.”
Somehow she got the words out of her mouth without gagging on them. She’d like to slap her hand across his face for putting her in such a situation, but doing that would only lead to questions from her brother that she wouldn’t want to answer.
“My dear Lady Ivy,” he started once more.
“Ah, Hayfield,” came a familiar voice behind Ivy, and she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
“Beck,” the earl clipped out.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Michael said.
Generally, his nearness struck a bit of fear into Ivy’s heart that she couldn’t quite explain, but in this she had no doubt that Michael would be more than willing to play the role of her champion if she should have need of one. She glanced back over her shoulder to find him leveling the duplicitous earl with an unhappy glare.
“I was, uh, just wishing the lady a happy Christmas.”
“How kind you are,” Michael continued. “And a happy Christmas to you and yours. I had promised my mother that I would gather Lady Ivy for her. You’ll excuse us, I’m sure.”
“Oh.” Hayfield glanced from Michael to Ivy and added, “I hope you’ll save me a dance this evening.”
Which was the very last thing in the world she wanted to do. “We’ll see,” she hedged. “I’ve been feeling short of breath of late. I’m not certain if I’ll be dancing at all this evening.” Then she threaded her arm through Michael’s and said, “It so fortuitous that Lady Halesworth wanted to speak with me, I’ve been meaning to speak with her the last little while as well.”
Chapter 10
“What was that about?” Michael asked, just as soon as he and Ivy were out of Hayfield’s earshot. There was something about the way the earl looked at her that Michael didn’t like in the least.
“Did your mother really want to speak with me?” she countered, glancing up at him.
Damn it all. There was nothing in the world that matched having Ivy Dallimore’s complete attention. “You don’t really want to speak with her, do you?” Not now, not that they had a few minutes to themselves, even amongst the sea of other wedding guests.
“Well, that only seems fair as you’ve already spoken with my brother.”
Michael bit back a smile. “Well, if you truly want to speak with my mother, I’ll be happy to take you to her.” Then he shrugged slightly. “In fact, I’m certain she’d be so distracted by your presence that I could even tell her the plans I have for my copper mine and she’d pay me no attention at all. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to tell her, and I do believe you may have hit upon the very best way, my dear.”
Ivy glanced up at him as though he’d lost his mind. “I hardly think your mother would be that distracted by me.”
“On the contrary.” Michael winked at her as they continued a slow path along the hall. “It would be impossible for her not to notice my devotion to you, especially as she has long wished for me to reform my ways.” Then he chuckled softly. “Actually, I’m wondering if there are a number of other things I should confess to her as well. Best do it all at once as long as you’re there to distract her.”
“You are exasperating, Michael, are you aware of that?” Her fiery tendrils moved slightly as she shook her head.
But as she’d called him by his given name, Michael didn’t think she really found him exasperating. Or if she did, he thought it was quite likely that she found him so in the best of ways. “And you, my dear, are the loveliest girl in all the world. I’m quite distracted myself.”
She drew Michael to a stop and gazed up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, and Michael wished that all the other wedding guests were somewhere else in the castle and that he truly had her all to himself.
“You asked for permission to court me, didn’t you?”
Michael nodded. “Westbury doesn’t think you’ll have me, but he granted his permission anyway.”
“I was not prepared for you to ask such a thing of him.” She frowned at him. “I wish you hadn’t done so.”
And perhaps Westbury had been right that Ivy wouldn’t have him. But Michael did have to try. The pretty redhead did hold his heart. Only the weakest willed gentleman alive would give up so easily. “Have pity on me, Ivy.” He smiled slightly. “I have to act quickly as there’s only so many nights I can spend in a broken Gypsy wagon, exposed to rain and all the other elements.”
She lifted a delicate hand to her lips in surprise. “You were in the rain last night?”
Michael agreed with a nod. “Not sure how much sleep I got, but I survived the night.”
“Was it awful?”
“It wasn’t pleasant,” he admitted, “but I didn’t really have another choice once the rain began.”
Ivy shook her head once more and Michael ached to wrap one of her red tendrils around his finger, but with all the people still assembled in the great hall, behaving so familiarly with her would hardly cast her in the best of light. “You can stay in my chambers tonight,” she said softly.
She was going to let him stay in her chambers? Micha
el could not have heard her correctly. He blinked down at her, wondering if it was possible she’d said what he thought she had. But she stared back at him, seeming quite serious about the entire thing. Never in a million years would he have ever thought she’d make such an offer, but only a fool would refuse it. “I daresay we shan’t sleep at all tonight, but I’ll make it worth your while.”
A laugh escaped Ivy as she tugged her arm from his grasp. “I said you could stay in my chambers, Michael. I didn’t say I would share it with you.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” he replied. “Now you’ve got that image in my head, anything less will be a complete let down.”
“I’m certain you’ll survive,” she laughed again.
“Where will you be?” he asked.
Ivy shrugged in response. “I can share Frannie’s chamber. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done such a thing. And I would feel much better knowing you weren’t sleeping in that awful wagon.”
If he hadn’t already been in love with her, he would have fallen just then. She wasn’t at all the spoiled brat he’d always though her to be. Well, she probably was just as spoiled as he’d always thought her to be, but the fact that she cared about his wellbeing…Even his own brother hadn’t cared enough to do something similar. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to adore you any more than I do right at this moment.”
Her pretty lips twitched up to a smile. “You saved me from Lord Hayfield. We’ll call it even.”
Hayfield. There had been something going on when Michael had stolen Ivy away from the earl. He glanced back across the room to find the man eyeing the two of them with interest. “What did Hayfield want with you?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the earl.
“Honestly? I believe he’s after my dowry,” she said quietly, drawing Michael’s attention back to her.
Her dowry? “I beg your pardon?” Who the devil could look at Ivy Dallimore and see her dowry?
“He’s a fortune hunter of the worst variety,” she said. “And for some reason he has his eye on mine.”
A fortune hunter who was sharing his bed with his children’s governess, not that he was about to tell her such a thing. “I think you should keep your distance from the man, then.”
Ivy agreed with a nod of her head. “Indeed. Right before you interrupted us, I’d just decided to hitch Frannie to my side for the duration of our stay at Keyvnor.”
“Well, not that close.” Michael grinned down at her. “I doubt your cousin would let me get away with kissing you again and I have every intention of doing so. A number of times.”
She tipped her pretty redhead back regally. “And yet I haven’t decided if I’ll allow that, Michael Beck. So tethering Frannie to me might be two-fold in purpose.”
“Minx,” he accused good-naturedly.
And then across the way, Michael spotted Markham. Oh, thank God. The man’s daughter must have recovered. Now to find the best way to request his winnings from the duke.
Ah! So Markham was there. Ivy had begun to wonder if rumors of his attendance at Keyvnor had been greatly exaggerated.
Michael nodded his head in greeting and a twinge of something pierced her heart. She’d spent the first few days at Keyvnor trying to find a way to place herself in Markham’s path if he could be found, but now that he was there…
She glanced back up at Michael beside her and that twinge deepened. She was definitely losing her mind if she preferred spending her time bantering with Michael Beck instead of trying to engage Markham in anything.
“Your Grace,” Michael said as the duke reached them. “I hope your daughter is feeling better.”
But the man shook his head in response. “I’m just about to head back to her sick room, but Blackwater said you were looking for me.”
One of his daughters was ill? Was that why His Grace had been absent from everything ever since Ivy had arrived?
“It can wait, then, Markham,” Michael replied. “Once she’s on the mend, set aside some time for me, will you?”
“That sounds fairly enigmatic,” the duke said with a frown.
He did frown a lot, actually. Ivy had forgotten that about His Grace. Of course, she supposed, he hadn’t had very much to smile about this last year. But even before tragedy had struck his family, an air of seriousness had always surrounded him, almost the exact opposite of Michael’s easy nature.
“Nothing to worry about,” Michael assured the duke. “And a happy Christmas to you and your girls.”
A hint of a smile touched the duke’s lips. “And to you, of course.” Then he finally glanced down and met Ivy’s eyes and said, “And you, my lady. Happy Christmas,” before turning on his heel and making his way from the great hall.
There had been nothing in the look Markham had cast her. Ivy’s heart hadn’t raced, her breath hadn’t caught, and her belly certainly hadn’t flipped. Of course none of those things were required in securing a decent match, but…
She cast Michael a sidelong glance and realized that he had made her feel all of those things and more. Blast him. She had set out to be so sensible in all of this, and it was quite a lowering thought to realize that in the end, she was no better than Persephone or Ophelia. And being like her sisters, ending up like Ophelia had been the one thing in life she had been quite determined to avoid. How was it possible that she had fallen for the third son of a marquess who was going into trade? It was almost like God’s cruel joke.
“Is something wrong?” Michael asked, turning to face her and looking at her with such concern, she felt it in the core of her soul.
Everything in the world was wrong. Every single thing. But Ivy pasted on a smile and shook her head instead of giving voice to the thoughts plaguing her. “What sort of dealings do you have with Markham?” she asked, mostly to distract herself.
Michael looked surprised by the question, but shook his head a moment later. “That’s between His Grace and me.”
How very odd. He’d been so forthcoming about everything else, things Ivy wouldn’t think any self-respecting person would want to divulge to anyone, which could only make her wonder how awful his dealings with Markham must truly be. “You’re really not going to tell me?” she asked, and batted her lashes for good measure.
Michael’s expression turned to one of amusement and somehow lightened Ivy’s heart just a bit. “I would be quite happy to tell you, but I don’t believe His Grace would appreciate me doing so.”
So Markham had done something awful, otherwise there would be no reason to keep it a secret. And then Ivy thought she had it. Michael had come to Castle Keyvnor to collect his winnings, hadn’t he? “He owes you money,” she guessed aloud. And when he simply stared at her and didn’t react in any sort of way, she was fairly certain she’d been right. “That much, is it?”
He shook his head. “I have said nothing to either confirm or deny your suspicions, my dear.”
“You don’t have to,” she said breezily. “I can see it written quite plainly across your face.”
“Is that a fact?” he asked as his gaze turned a bit smoldering.
Ivy shrugged instead of answering aloud.
“Well, my darling Ivy,” he began, lowering his voice until it was loud enough for only her to hear, “what do you see written on my face now?”
His wicked blue eyes seemed to look straight through her and his jaw tightened the tiniest bit. He looked like he meant to kiss her again, but with all of the people still gathered in the great hall, that would be more than scandalous. “That you actually prefer sleeping in dilapidated Gypsy wagons and you don’t intend to take me up on the offer of my chambers, after all?”
Michael laughed and the rich sound seemed to warm her from the inside out. “No, no, no. You’ve already made that offer. No taking it back now.”
Ivy took a step away from him. “Then I’d best go warn Frannie that she’ll be sharing her quarters with me. Excuse me, will you?”
“You will save me a dance this evenin
g, won’t you?” he said as she took another step backward.
Dance with him? And have him touch her in such a public setting? She’d probably fall into a puddle at his feet, especially if he kept looking at her as he was doing now. So Ivy shook her head and repeated what she’d told Hayfield, “I’ve been short of breath of late.” And then she quickly quit the great hall without a glance back over her shoulder as her heart pounded in her chest.
Belatedly, Ivy realized that Frannie was still in the great hall with the other wedding guests. She couldn’t go back in there and face Michael. She’d look like a blasted fool if she returned right now. Probably better to take a peek in her chambers anyway, especially if Michael was going to be staying there. She’d have her things moved to Frannie’s chambers, but…Well, it would probably make sense to give it a once over, just in case.
She quickly navigated the corridors and was in the process of climbing a flight of stairs when something hard pushed her from behind. She let out a scream as she lost her footing and crashed onto the stone steps and the world went dark.
Chapter 11
Ivy ached. Her head pounded. Her leg throbbed. Her arm even hurt as though she’d fallen on it. What in the world had happened to her?
“She’s breathing normally, but she has a concussion,” an unfamiliar voice said. “You need to keep an eye on her, make sure there’s no change to her breathing.”
“Yes, of course.” Ethan’s voice. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“I’m keeping a close watch on the Duke of Markham’s daughter. So if there’s any change with Lady Ivy, do send for me.”
Ivy blinked her eyes open and the brightness of the light streaming into her room made her wince. “Ouch,” she whispered.
Kissed at Christmas Page 18