The Ha'Penny Place (Ivy Rose Series Book 3)

by Gemma Jackson

  “Ivy, are you awake?” a soft voice whispered.

  “I am now.” Ivy rolled over in the big sweet-smelling bed. It took her a minute to remember where she was – in Ann Marie’s house in one of the guest bedrooms. The fire in the grate burned brightly – someone had crept in while she slept and tended the fire. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  “May I go in, now she’s awake?” Emmy obviously didn’t wait for permission. She bounced up onto the bed and grinned widely at Ivy. “Today is the day you marry my Uncle Jem.” Emmy’s long black hair was wrapped in rags Ivy had put in the night before to shape the hair into big fat ringlets. The little girl shook her head now, delighted with the fuss.

  “Is that a fact?” Ivy pushed herself up in the bed. Ann Marie rushed forward to arrange the pillows at Ivy’s back. Sadie entered the room with a well-filled tea tray. Betty Armstrong brought up the rear.

  “What time is it?” Ivy looked around at the smiling faces. How were you supposed to handle opening your eyes to so much company first thing in the morning?

  “It’s only just gone eight,” Betty Armstrong answered. “We have plenty of time to get you ready.”

  “No point in asking you if you want a cup of tea, Ivy,” Sadie Lawless, her rag-wrapped hair bouncing, said.

  They’d had a ladies’ evening in Ann Marie’s house the night before. Hair was curled, brows plucked, facials and manicures were given – all under Betty’s supervision. It had been a celebration of femininity.

  “I’m not going to drink tea in this bed.” Ivy was terrified of spilling tea on the pure Irish linen bedclothes. She had never slept in anything so beautiful.

  “While you go into the bathroom, me and my Clare are going to set up an occasional table here to put the tea things on. I told this lot,” Sadie gave a jerk of her head at the other two women, “that you would never agree to coming down to the morning room in your new lingerie.”

  “I’m not running around the house in me scanties!” Ivy yelped. “The very idea!”

  “Told yez,” Sadie grinned.

  “Your new negligee set is perfectly respectable,” Ann Marie said without much hope of shifting Ivy. She had bought the set as a wedding gift. It was in no way scanty. “And apart from one baby boy we are a totally female household at the moment.”

  “Give us a cup of that tea to take with me, please, Sadie.” Ivy waited to see if anyone would look away when she threw back the bedcovers. Every eye in the place was on her. With silent thanks for the cover of the long white nightdress she pushed her feet towards the floor. A quick shake of her body had the nightdress covering her from neck to ankle.

  “Wet your hair well and I’ll put the pin curls in now, Ivy,” Betty Armstrong instructed. She had washed and conditioned Ivy’s hair the previous evening but if she’d put the pin curls in then sleep would have been impossible. She was thrilled to be one of the bride’s attendants.

  Ivy took the tea from Sadie’s hand and hurried into the en-suite bathroom. She needed to relieve her bladder before she did anything else. She pulled the chain on the toilet with a wide grin. The luxury! She drank the tea, then bent at the waist to put her head under the hot-water tap. The water was only warm but that was fine. She wrapped a white towel around her head and with a deep breath stepped back into the fray.

  “Ivy,” Sadie said as soon as Ivy walked through the door, “have you the stomach for a full Irish breakfast?”

  “Surely not!” Betty Armstrong stared. “We don’t want the bride throwing up on her groom.”

  “Perhaps something delicate like a poached egg and a thin slice of toast?” Ann Marie suggested.

  “Would the lot of you relax, please?” Ivy tried not to snarl.

  They were enjoying themselves.

  “Something light before the service then back here for the wedding breakfast.” Ann Marie had arranged for the Skellys to be on hand to cater the wedding breakfast.

  “Sit down here.” Betty pulled the delicate white wrought-iron chair away from the matching dressing table. “I’ll put the pin curls in your hair now. The curls will be the finishing touch. Sadie, you better pour her another cup of tea or we’ll get nothing done.”

  “Ivy,” Clare Lawless, her hair in rags and a baby on her hip, entered the room, “Jem telephoned – he wanted to know if you had a bag packed. He sounded very nervous.”

  Dora Lawless had chosen to remain in the kitchen with Eleanor Skelly.

  “I have, thank you.” Ivy and Jem were going to spend the first days of their marriage at Ann Marie’s Dalkey estate.

  “I told him that if there were any problems I’d let him know,” Betty Armstrong said through a mouthful of hairgrips.

  Ivy looked and listened to the fuss going on around her. The quiet, private wedding ceremony she imagined had grown into a major event. Her wedding day seemed to have taken on a life of its own. She felt powerless to stop what sometimes felt like a runaway train.

  William Armstrong insisted he should be allowed give the bride away. She wasn’t fooled into thinking he gave two hoots about her. He was out to impress Ann Marie and, through her, her social circle. Still, with all the help he’d been settling the matter of the aunt’s body how could she refuse? He’d organised for a judge, a personal friend of his, to conduct the ceremony in his chambers. John and Jem had spent the night at the Baggot Street house with William Armstrong having a ‘gentlemen’s evening’.

  “Will you miss me?” Emmy came over to stand by the dressing table and watch.

  “We won’t be away for long.” Ivy smiled at the young girl’s image in the mirror.

  “I’ll miss you.” Emmy didn’t want to be left behind.

  “We’ll have a big street party when we come back,” Ivy promised. “Perhaps Ann Marie could teach you a new party piece?” Emmy had taken to performing like a duck to water.

  The morning passed in a rush with everyone getting in on the act. Ivy was punched and poked until she wanted to scream. Everyone seemed to have set ideas on what was needed.

  She stood before the mirror with a crowd of beautifully dressed, tearful females at her back. Ann Marie had insisted that a new dress for the bride was essential. Ivy had thought to buy a second-hand suit. She stood before the mirror in her dress, admiring her own image. The dress was the shortest she had ever worn. It was a dropped-waist, violet underdress covered by an overdress of gleaming white broderie anglaise. The white fabric was artfully gathered inches above the hem of the violet underdress. The sleeves were broderie anglaise, revealing her arms underneath. Her white lace cloche hat framed her face.

  “Well,” Betty Armstrong stood back from Ivy and admired her own handiwork, “you have something blue in the violet of your dress, I suppose. The new of course is everything else. For something borrowed I have some pearl earrings.”

  “Oh, that would be perfect.” Ann Marie took her hand from the pocket of her own coffee-coloured silk suit. She pulled out a string of pearls. “I had thought to offer these, but they can be considered something old.”

  Ivy could only stare openmouthed. Pearls – I ask your sacred pardon. Who did they think she was – the Queen of the May?

  “You put these on, Betty.” Ann Marie passed the pearls into Betty’s hands. “I’m going to go set up my camera.” She almost ran from the room. Ivy looked so beautiful. She wanted to record every precious minute of this day.

  “Me, Papa, me, me, me!” Emmy ran between the newly married couple. She stood grinning broadly while the photograph was taken. Edward had been drafted in as Ann Marie’s assistant.

  “Am I the world’s worst because I want to wrap the bloody camera around Ann Marie’s neck?” Ivy hissed from behind clenched teeth and a forced smile.

  “Just grin and bear it.” Jem too was fed up. He wanted Ivy to himself. They were married. He wanted to act like it.

  “I don’t know these people.” Ivy continued to smile, glassy-eyed. The reception felt like a punishment. “I notice the Lawless fam
ily left as soon as they could. Everyone else seems to be having a great time impressing each other.”

  “Armstrong is having the time of his life, glad-handing Ann Marie’s relations.” Jem obeyed the order to put his arm around Ivy’s waist.

  Ivy had been surprised to see Ann Marie’s uncle and his family here.

  The dining room was being cleared of the remains of the bridal breakfast. The group were gathered in the festively decorated second withdrawing room. People were standing about sipping champagne and chatting.

  Ivy felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She obeyed the order to stand with her hand on Jem’s shoulder when someone had produced a chair for him to sit in. She’d seen stiff wedding photographs like this in many of the homes around The Lane. She was surprised Ann Marie would want something so formal.

  “That group Armstrong is leading over to Charles Gannon must be his wife and children, don’t you think?” Jem stood up when ordered.

  “Just a few more.” Ann Marie could see the storm-clouds in Ivy’s eyes. Her friend didn’t like all of this attention. But this was an important day in a woman’s life. She wanted Ivy to have a record of the occasion. She was determined to get a family picture involving Ivy and all of the Armstrongs. It was past time that connection was recognised. If Ivy’s family were going to use her to their own ends then they could claim her as a blood relation. She’d explained the situation to Edward. He was organising the group picture at this moment. It only needed the bride and groom.

  “No.” Ivy dug in her heels when she saw where she was being led.

  “Ivy!” Ann Marie urged.

  “No.”

  “Ivy,” Jem bent to whisper in her ear, “Betty will be going back to America soon. Let her have this picture to take with her.” He saw the refusal on her lips. “Think of the explanations Armstrong will be forced to make to his family after this. Besides, love, you can send a copy to your Shay over in America. I’m sure he’d enjoy seeing everyone together.”

  “Can we leave soon?” She could feel people staring at her. It was making her skin itch.

  “Just as soon as Ann Marie has her family photographs we will run out of here,” he promised.

  “I’m starving,” Ivy whispered.

  “Sadie packed a basket for us.” He’d known Ivy wouldn’t be able to eat with all of these people looking at her. “It’s in the back of my automobile.”

  “Let’s be doing this then.” She put her chin in the air and with her head held high walked over to join her father’s relations.

  “Oh, oh!” Jem recognised that light in her eyes.

  “Ann Marie, shouldn’t you introduce me to these people?” Her smile could have cut glass.

  Ann Marie, a polite smile on her face, performed the introduction with style. It gave her great pleasure to see the shock on the faces of Armstrong’s family when she included the family connection in the introductions. Let him talk himself out of that!

  Ivy allowed herself to be pushed into position – well aware of the cat that had just been put among the pigeons.

  Betty Armstrong stood by her brother’s side, delighted with life. She planned to have a copy of this photograph framed on her New York mantelpiece.

  “That is it.” Ivy had had enough. Ann Marie had run out of film. She wasn’t going to wait until the camera had been reloaded.

  “Time for the bride and groom to leave!” Jem said loudly, grabbing Ivy to his side before she could say more. “I hope you all enjoy yourself. Thank you for coming.” Without another word he pulled her from the room. “I don’t know if that is how the thing is done,” he whispered to his glaring bride. “I don’t care though. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 41

  “We should visit Dalkey Island while we’re here.” Jem didn’t take his eyes off the road in front of him. “Ann Marie said that the fishermen will take people out to the island for a few pence.”

  Ivy kept her eyes focused on the sea that ran along one side of the road in a stormy grey path that seemed to stretch into infinity.

  An uncomfortable silence settled over the pair.

  Ivy was scared. She’d never found it difficult to talk to Jem. Why was she feeling tongue-tied now?

  “Did I tell you that you looked lovely today?” He wished he’d taken the time to remove his suit jacket.

  “You didn’t look so bad yerself, Mr Ryan.” She wanted to scream. They were acting like strangers.

  The whole day had been strange. She’d wanted to walk into the registry office, get the words said and leave. Was that so wrong? The reaction of her friends to her plans had seemed extreme to her. She’d finally stepped back and allowed them to take the matter out of her hands. Their wedding guests had been mostly strangers. Now look at them. They were acting like polite strangers who had been forced to spend time together.

  “Do you think Ann Marie got enough photographs?” Jem said slyly, his eyes still on the road stretching in front of them.

  “It was lucky you pulled me out of there.” Ivy looked over at the man who was now her husband and grinned. “I was thinking of making her eat her infernal camera.”

  “I thought I saw smoke coming out your ears.” He moved one hand from the steering wheel to pat her thigh.

  “Still and all, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.” A wedding breakfast. I ask your scared pardon, she thought. Who had come up with that nonsense? They’d been standing around like shop dummies. She preferred a good funeral herself.

  “They’ll have more fun now that we’ve left.” He took her hand in his and returned their joined hands to the wheel. “I believe that’s how it’s supposed to be anyway.”

  “More power to them.” She stared at their joined hands for a moment. “It’s been a funny aul day. I don’t know if I’m on me head or me heels.” She gave herself a silent lecture about relaxing and enjoying herself before turning her attention to the passing scenery.

  “We’ll stop for a picnic on the way,” he said. “I’ve a blanket and the basket of food Sadie packed in the back.”

  “Jesus, Jem,” Ivy stood in the open doorway of the bedroom Ann Marie had prepared for them, “this room is nearly the size of the bloody livery!”

  She exaggerated. The long wide room had beautiful bevelled windows directly across from the entrance. Yellow embroidered Chinese silk curtains opened onto a view of the sea. A small table with two dainty chairs sat in the nook formed by the bend of the window.

  “Not quite.” Jem too was overcome with the luxury of their surroundings. When they had visited the estate to see where they would be staying he’d been gobsmacked. The place intimidated him.

  “I feel like the country cousin even though we’re city people.” Ivy tried to take everything in.

  A four-poster bed draped in yellow silk stood proudly inches away from the wall that stretched from the doorway to the window. A huge black marble fireplace, a turf fire set ready for a match in the grate, was to the left of where they stood in the open doorway.

  “Well, we can’t stand here like statues.” He took her elbow and led her into the luxurious room, closing the door at their backs.

  “It was good of Ann Marie to loan us her house.” Ivy wanted to laugh hysterically. She walked over to the dressing table. Standing in front of the high mirror, she began to remove the hat pins from her lace-covered white cloche hat.

  “It’s been quite a day.” Jem slowly walked to the wide window. He put his hat and cashmere overcoat onto the small table. He stared out the window at the white-capped grey waves that raced towards the house. There wasn’t another house in sight. A soft whisper of sound had him glancing back over his shoulder. Ivy had removed her shoes and was reaching under her dress to remove her silk stockings. He stared at the unexpected intimacy for a moment before returning his eyes to the view outside.

  “I don’t know what to do with meself.” Ivy’s naked feet were tickled by the rich Persian carpet under her feet. She joined Jem at the wind
ow, both staring out at the sea view.

  “There’s neither of us accustomed to having time on our hands. I’ll put a light to the fire.” He went to take care of putting a match to the kindling in the grate. “I suppose you want a pot of tea,” he said over his shoulder.

  “I can wait.” She picked up Jem’s coat and hat, carrying them over to the freestanding wardrobe. She turned the key in the lock and opened the door. A whiff of some kind of perfume wafted out of the hidden depths of the wardrobe. She didn’t know what it was, never having smelled sandalwood before in her life. “Me head is still a bit off from all that champagne Ann Marie poured down us at the wedding breakfast.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Jem picked their cases up from the floor just inside the door. Ivy’s he put on the dresser. He wasn’t touching her things. He put his own case on the blanket-box at the end of the bed. He hadn’t known what to pack. What did anyone else wear on their honeymoon? He knew the nobs seemed to change their clothes every two minutes but he and Ivy wouldn’t have enough clothes for that kind of malarkey. Was he supposed to put his unmentionables beside hers in the dresser of drawers? He wouldn’t be having these problems if they’d stayed in their own place.

  The knock on the bedroom door frightened the life out of Ivy. She looked around frantically, almost tempted to jump into the wardrobe. She wouldn’t think of allowing a man not her husband to see her naked legs – she pulled open a door she’d only just noticed and almost jumped into the open space.

  She stood with her ear pressed to the door, listening to Jem tell Martin Skelly that they would tend to themselves. More power to him – she wouldn’t want to do it. She turned her attention to the space around her. “In the name of all that’s good and holy!” She stared in openmouthed surprise at the most decadent bathroom she’d ever seen in her life.