My Fair Gentleman

by Nancy Campbell Allen

  He narrowed his eyes, his frustration rising. “At what point did you decide you were entitled to make decisions for me?”

  “It is for the best, Jack. You must admit it!”

  He gritted his teeth. There had been no mistaking her feelings for him when she had entered that bedroom and seen him sitting up, awake. He had realized then, on some level, that he wanted Ivy Carlisle by his side forever. To be his wife—his friend, his lover, the mother of his children.

  “Very well.” He still held fast to her arm. “We will return to London and have our wonderful parties, and you will look for other women you think I might find the least objectionable. And while we are doing all of this, you will be thinking of one thing.”

  “And that would be?”

  “This.”

  He pulled her into his arms and plunged his hand into her hair, lowering his mouth to hers and savoring the experience. He kissed her well and thoroughly and nearly groaned aloud when she responded. She might say all the right words she felt she needed to, but she couldn’t deny her heart. Had she objected to his kiss, he would have pulled back and given her the freedom she said she needed in order to guard herself from pain. Ridiculous, really, because he had no intention of ever causing her any. But she met him halfway and placed a hand at the back of his neck, as much a participant as a receiver.

  “So,” he said unsteadily against her mouth as he finally broke the contact, “while you are scouting the room for my future wife, you will think on the fact that you are handing her this instead of keeping it for yourself.”

  “Jack,” she whispered brokenly, “you are unfair.”

  “No, my lady, you are the one who denies not only yourself, but me as well.” He released her and looked at her kiss-swollen mouth and tear-filled eyes, fighting every urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he performed a feat of herculean effort and turned, leaving her in the gentle breeze.

  He made his way angrily into the house and searched for Fuddleston, who was in the library. “You mentioned visiting the tenants?” he said.

  Fuddleston looked up from his ledger and blinked at him before nodding. “Yes,” he answered. “I believe it would be a wise thing to do before returning to the city.”

  “We shall go now, then. How soon can you be ready?”

  Fuddleston opened his mouth and closed it again, glancing down at the books. “Now, I suppose, sir.”

  “Stop calling me ‘sir.’ I told you to call me ‘Jack.’ Now fetch your coat and whatever else we will need.”

  Fuddleston rose from the desk with a nod, although he eyed Jack with some suspicion. “Is everything well, my lo—Jack?” He flushed.

  Jack raised a shoulder, tempted for a moment to confide in him. He finally shook his head. Fuddleston would have no better insight into a woman’s mind than he did. “I am fine,” he finally said. “Let us do this before we lose daylight. I should like to see the condition of the tenants’ housing. If my grandfather’s legacy with my family is any indication of how he cared for those on his land, I am guessing there is much work to be done.”

  Besides, he was going to have to keep himself busy while he plotted his future. And contemplate the most effective ways to convince a woman to follow her instincts rather than habit. Because if there was only one certainty in life, he had realized it was this: Ivy Carlisle was his, and he didn’t want any other. And he would crawl through Dante’s proverbial pit before seeing her with another man.

  Lady Ivy had set out to create a gentleman, and she was going to find she had succeeded. After a fashion, at least. His frustration gave way to determination as he began to formulate a plan. By the time he left the house with Fuddleston, he was whistling. “Clarence, my good man,” he said as he clapped the baffled solicitor on the shoulder, “let us do some good today.”

  Chapter 26

  Fear is frequently the most powerful of

  motivators; to defeat it is wise.

  Mistress Manners’ Tips for Every-day Etiquette

  One week passed in a flurry of comfortable activity, and Ivy smiled as she passed the library on her way to the parlor where she was to meet Sophia. Jack and Fuddleston were elbow-deep in documents and drawings of the tenant housing, planning improvements to many of the old structures and replacements for others that were uninhabitable. Jack had returned from his initial inspection of the properties on his land the week before, his face an absolute thundercloud. Fuddleston had looked equally grim, and ever since, they had been men obsessed with a worthy cause.

  It came as no surprise to anyone that the old earl had neglected his tenants to an extreme. Jack had reported to Ivy, Sophia, and Mary that there were entire families living in absolute squalor. Jack had a new air about him, a true sense of purpose. She was able to picture him at sea, running an entire ship and its rowdy crew. She had hopes that this venture might provide him with that sense of meaningful pursuit he seemed to have been struggling to find in London. But she couldn’t shake the feelings she’d had when they had toured the maritime museum, the impressions that his first love would always be the sea, and that it was where he truly belonged.

  Ivy entered the parlor to find Sophia reading a letter, pacing before the hearth. She glanced up at Ivy and said, “We must return to London if we wish to secure the property for the school. The owner is threatening to sell it to someone else if we do not claim it immediately.”

  Ivy nodded and tapped her finger against her lip. “I believe Jack and Fuddleston are finishing their business for now. They need to go back to London to secure materials for the tenant repairs. It’s as good a time as any, I suppose. I hate to take your mother back so soon, though.”

  Sophia nodded. “I agree. Perhaps she’d like to remain here.”

  “When we return, I will accept invitations to the last few balls of the Season, and we can then consider you and Jack well and truly launched.” She smiled at Sophia, who rolled her eyes and then looked at Ivy for a moment in clear speculation.

  “What are you going to do about Jack?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Ivy, you cannot fool me, so do not try.”

  “He kissed me again,” she admitted.

  Sophia’s eyes lit up. “I should hope he did! He watches you every moment of the day, you know. And when you leave a room, it is as though his mind has gone with you.”

  Ivy’s heart thumped in response, and to her dismay, she felt herself sinking into the abyss. She absolutely would not fall in love with Jack Elliot.

  Sophia folded the letter she’d been reading and brushed her skirts. “You can deny yourself happiness, but I’m sure I don’t understand why you would.” She made her way to the door.

  “I am finding my feelings most conflicted,” Ivy said softly.

  Sophia paused at the doorway and turned back to Ivy. “In what way?”

  “I am afraid.”

  “There is an element of fear in every worthwhile endeavor, is there not? We can never escape it entirely.”

  She left, and Ivy stood alone in the parlor, feeling bereft and miserable and desperately wanting comfort from the one man she was trying to avoid. She touched her fingertips to her lips and remembered the kiss and the breathlessness that had ensued. She had nearly sunk to the ground when he’d left her outside, her knees weak and her heart pounding.

  She was playing a dangerous game with a man who was probably sincere in his affection for her but who might well tire of his responsibilities on land and leave for good. There were no guarantees, and Ivy had lived her life on guarantees. If she did everything that was expected of her, if she bridled her passions, reined in her sense of humor and her impulsive side, she would make a suitable match to a suitable gentleman and then they would together have suitable children.

  Jack Elliot had turned her well-ordered existence on its head.

  He was suitable in that he was an earl, of course, but he made her laugh quite loudly, he teased and cajoled, he regaled her
with stories of adventures on the high seas that he really shouldn’t share with a lady, and he kissed her until she thought she would die from the pleasure of it. He drew out of her the impulsive aspect she’d worked so hard to control, making her believe it was perfectly acceptable to put one’s schedule aside and enjoy a picnic instead.

  And he supported her writing. True to his word, he had not told a soul that she was the voice behind Mistress Manners, but he occasionally asked if he might read her drafts, and he made comments that drew laughter from her along with flushes of pride. She found herself wanting to make him smile and was ridiculously gratified when she achieved it.

  “Ivy?”

  She turned at his voice in the doorway, and her breath caught at his appearance. He was dressed as a lord of the manor, the bruises on his face fading. The scar across his eyebrow and onto his nose only made him all the more handsome, which made absolutely no sense to her whatsoever. She had thought to pity him, had wondered if she would need to reassure him that he would still be attractive to eligible females, and instead she found herself marveling at the fact that he was more dashing than ever.

  “Yes?”

  “Sophia has told me we must return to London?”

  Ivy nodded with a sigh. “This has been a rather lovely holiday from the city, has it not? I hate to return.”

  He eyed her for a moment, and she could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye. “Well, we have much to accomplish upon our return. Sophia and I are most anxious to be presented officially to the ton.”

  Ivy gave him a flat look. “Indeed.”

  “If you believe you can manage it, we will pack up and leave by morning’s first light.” He gave her a bright smile and tipped his head in a bow to her before leaving the room.

  What on earth was he about? She didn’t trust the look in his eye for a moment, but she shook her head and left the parlor, making her way upstairs to her bedchamber to begin preparing for the return trip to London. She was agitated and couldn’t define exactly why, only that she knew something odd was on the horizon.

  Ivy’s mother smiled when she returned home, and Ivy wondered if perhaps some of the sting of Caroline’s behavior was finally receding. Her mother asked questions about the earl’s estate and holdings, of course, but also asked after Mary’s welfare. She then told Ivy to be sure to attend the Norringtons’ ball on Thursday evening because it was certain to be an absolute crush.

  It was just as well that Ivy had already been planning the Norringtons’ event as the perfect place for Jack and Sophia to make an official appearance. They had yet to attend a large function, and this would be the first that also involved dancing. They had only had a few rounds of lessons; she hoped desperately that it had been enough.

  Ivy left instructions for her maid to unpack her trunk and then went to Sophia’s house. Mary had stayed behind at the country estate, and Ivy genuinely felt it was just as well. Mary’s acceptance by the ton was not as crucial as Sophia’s if the older woman’s intention was to live the bulk of her life outside of London.

  Sophia was just exiting the front door when Ivy arrived, and Sophia climbed into the carriage next to her with a light in her eye and a becoming blush to her cheeks. “We are about to do something amazing, Ivy!”

  Ivy smiled, feeling the excitement settling into her bones. “This is the first monumental thing I’ve done, Sophia. Nana is so proud!”

  The ride to the building they had selected was quick and uneventful, and when they arrived, Ivy’s optimism faltered just a bit. “There is much to be done, isn’t there?” she murmured.

  “Take heart.” Sophia linked her arm within Ivy’s. “We can do difficult things.”

  Ivy smiled at her friend, noting not for the first time her incredible beauty and realizing that Sophia’s inner glow was all the more stunning. She had arisen from the ashes of gut-wrenching poverty and was turning her experiences into something worthwhile. “I am most fortunate to know you, Sophia Elliot,” Ivy said with a burning sensation in her eyes. “And I am so grateful to call you my friend. I’ve never really had one, you know.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened, and she shook Ivy’s arm with her own. “No tears, Ivy! You mustn’t start this, or we will simply sit down here on the roadside and cry!”

  Ivy laughed as Sophia bustled them ahead to the doorway, but not before she saw a sheen in Sophia’s eyes that matched her own. As they toured the rundown building and began making notes for improvements and redesign, the only negative lurking at the back of her mind was a worry that by bringing Jack back to London, they had also brought him back to the lions’ den. She only hoped that the guards Anthony Blake had secured could keep him safe. The alternative didn’t bear contemplation; the thought of repeating the agony that had accompanied Jack’s last accident was more than her heart could manage.

  Chapter 27

  Accidents can be horribly frightening, but one should

  endeavour to handle them with grace and dignity.

  Mistress Manners’ Tips for Every-day Etiquette

  Jack entered his town house library and extended his hand to Lord Anthony Blake. Fuddleston had informed him that Blake had taken the attacks on Jack’s life most seriously, and together the two men were hunting down every possible lead they could find.

  “Glad to see you looking so well, Jack,” Blake said.

  “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf,” Jack said, motioning toward the seats flanking the hearth. “Have you learned anything new?”

  “A few things of note.” Blake settled into the chair. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I believe your father’s cousin may indeed be behind the attempts on your life.”

  Jack’s heart sank a bit, and it surprised him that he felt a sting of betrayal. “I suspected as much. What makes you believe it to be true?”

  “I ran down the contact who communicated with your cook’s assistant through a few eyewitnesses who saw him on the night in question. He eventually gave up the name of another ‘businessman’ who frequents haunts on the docks and takes bribes from noblemen to conduct their dirty business. He confirmed that a missive originating from Percival Elliot’s home was behind both the poisoning and the nail under the saddle.”

  “And would we be able to secure an arrest with this information?”

  Blake thought for a moment. “We do not have the original note,” he admitted, “and without the written evidence, all else is just hearsay, the word of a dockside thug against a nobleman. But Fuddleston and I do have one other plan,” he continued. “We’ve offered a bribe of our own to this dockside ‘businessman.’ If your cousin should make another request, we can nab him or his representative in the act.”

  Jack nodded. “I do worry about my family. I have a guard accompanying Sophia all hours of the day, but I confess, I would not be surprised if my cousin attempted to use my sister as leverage against me.”

  Blake nodded solemnly, and Jack saw his jaw tighten at the mention of danger to Sophia. “We will be vigilant, Jack, be assured of it.” He rose and turned to take his leave. “Have a care, then, and I will inform you at once should we discover anything pertinent.”

  Jack slowly walked over to the large hearth and leaned his shoulder against the mantle. So it had been Percival all along. He was not in the least surprised. The fear in his gut for his family, however, was very real and he felt a sense of frustration at his helplessness. It would hardly do to tip his hand and confront Percival directly, although he dearly wanted to. The man would deny everything, of course, and then all hopes of catching him in the act of hiring an assassin would be lost.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand across the bridge of his nose, which was still tender. He wanted Ivy. Wanted to talk with her about Blake’s comments, would relish the fact that she would simply be there with him. He had no idea what her choice of phrase might be, but he knew the tone she would use. It would be calming and full of reassurance. And he would look at her and become delightfully distract
ed and then kiss her again. . . .

  What a complicated tangle his life had become! He was watching for killers over one shoulder while trying to win the affections of a woman who was afraid to trust her own feelings. Throw the welfare of his beautiful, feisty sister into the mix, not to mention his ailing mother, and he had his hands quite full.

  Life at sea was ever so much simpler.

  Ivy and Sophia had just completed a most successful meeting with the man who would oversee the repairs and redesign of the girls’ home building. As they had described their needs, he was at first reluctant to take orders from two women, but then Nana had arrived at the offices and taken the situation in hand. Before Ivy really knew what had happened, the man had gathered all of their notes and diagrams and promised to have a plan drawn by week’s end.

  Nana winked at the girls when they left the offices, kissed Ivy, and then announced she was fatigued and must return home. The girls stood next to Ivy’s carriage for a moment, watching as the dowager climbed into her conveyance and left them as quickly as she had come.

  “Well,” Sophia said, “I am duly impressed.”

  “Indeed. And I can guarantee you, she’s not fatigued.” Ivy said. “I only mentioned to her briefly that we were scheduled to conduct this meeting today and told her we would care for the bulk of the details ourselves. All we require of her and Jack in the next day or so is to sign the official documents and arrange for the funds.”

  Sophia knit her brows together. “She must have realized we would encounter resistance.”

  Ivy nodded. “And now she has removed herself again so that we might do this on our own.”

  “She is a lovely lady,” Sophia said.

  “That she certainly is.” Ivy smiled at the empty street where Nana’s carriage had stood. She and Sophia were preparing to climb into their own carriage when a scream echoed down the crowded street.