Page 102 of Taming Ivy
“I love you, Ivy, love you, love you.” With restrained impatience, he whipped her damp chemise over her head, his hands molding her bare breasts to the shape of his palm before skating down her waist and flanks to grip her hips again. Holding her tighter so she was not injured on the smooth surface of the boulder, Sebastian stroked in and out, hard, then soft, then hard once more, carrying them to a place where desire, love, and lust jockeyed for position and intertwined with the other.
Ivy teetered on the brink again before he skillfully nudged her into dark, sweet depths. His lips covered hers, his mouth taking hers, swallowing her cry of fulfillment. When Sebastian found his release, she held him close, her hands soothing and warm. Their souls surely mingled on some mystical level, Ivy thought, raining kisses on his face, sighing as the whirlwind of their passion subsided and the world intruded once more.
But never once, in this magical, secret water garden, could Ivy bring herself to say she loved him. The fairies failed them both in that regard.
CHAPTER 36
Sebastian’s London home was a smaller, more intimate version of Beaumont, with darker wall colors and a heavier, more masculine feel. The furnishings were expensive and tasteful, their weightiness making Ivy feel small and delicate in comparison. The vast space contained a somberness, an unhappiness which seem to linger behind every door and in every cranny. Ravenswood Court did not possess the lightheartedness of Beaumont and this saddened Ivy. Knowing Timothy passed away within these very walls might well be the source of the uneasiness, but even that could not explain all of it.
Ivy was so glad to see Brody's face when the ornate doors swung wide, she impulsively embraced the man, ignoring the bemused frown Sebastian threw her. Her old butler’s grin and familiar wink bolstered her spirits, and he too, appeared unfazed by the earl’s faint objection to their unorthodox greeting.
Molly’s welcome was characteristically unreserved. Chattering gaily of the details in moving their belongings to Ravenswood Court, she enveloped her mistress in a warm squeeze then dipped an absent-minded curtsey to Sebastian. Arranged in a formal line to meet their new lady, the other servants observed the going-ons with raised eyebrows, horrified by this informality. Only after meeting the lady who’d snagged their beloved earl did the servants sigh amongst themselves in collective relief. Their new countess, it seemed, would be very pleasant to serve.
Gabriel was not present to welcome them. Attending to business, Sebastian informed her while Ivy found herself wishing for another familiar, friendly face. And when Lady Garrett glided downstairs like a silent, dismal raven dressed all in black, Ivy wished it all the more.
“I’m sure you will be happy here, my dear,” Rachel said, taking Ivy’s hand in a gesture of politeness.
“Thank you, Lady Garrett.” Ivy was jittery and Sebastian frowned, both at her nervousness and his aunt’s definite coolness. The remaining conversation was a stiff replay of their journey to London, and after a few moments, Rachel excused herself to check on preparations for the evening meal. Saying nothing in regard to his aunt’s flat reception, Sebastian dismissed the servants. He took Ivy’s elbow to give her an abbreviated tour of the home’s receiving spaces before leading the way upstairs. Once inside the privacy of their bedchamber, he pulled her into his arms.
Only a fraction of Ivy’s tenseness eased as he held her. Facing Rachel drained her, the animosity rolling from the woman nearly tangible. Could Sebastian not see and feel it? Maybe he did. It was still so difficult to know what went on behind those slate hued eyes of his.
"It'll be alright, love,” Sebastian said. "If she does not warm up within a reasonable timeframe, I shall have her moved to another estate, if you wish.”
Ivy's lips tightened.Thatdecision should not be hers. But instead of saying so, she shook her head. "I do not want her forced to leave her home. I'm sure things will grow easier.” Only, time would not help at all. Indeed, time would probably worsen things.
The next morning, her father came to have breakfast with them and Ivy suspected his visit was to determine her contentment. What he saw must have pleased him, for he undertook a lengthy discussion with Sebastian regarding the details of a new business venture. Had Jonathan Kinley any misgivings of this marriage, Ivy hoped he would never consider such a proposal, regardless of his admiration for his new son-in-law.
Midweek, Sara came for tea and Ivy was relieved to see a friendly face. Sebastian was buried in his office with Gabriel, and Lord only knew where Rachel had taken herself off to. The woman was determined to avoid Ivy as much as possible; with the exception of that first night, Lady Garrett declined to take meals with them or spend time with them at all. Ivy was glad.
Agnes, the bustling, businesslike housekeeper poured the tea, and once the elderly woman exited the drawing room, Sara gave Ivy a wide grin. "This is a far better welcome than the last time I visited.”
Ivy smothered a helpless giggle. "Sara Morgan, you are terrible. When I think of you barging through the front door, pushing the poor butler aside, not to mention Lady Garrett, even I am shocked.” She reached to squeeze her friend’s hand. “But I am so glad you did. And I never thanked you for that night. After the way I treated you, for you to come to my aid means so much to me."
"Nonsense. I love you and I did what needed done. Besides, things seem to have worked out for the best. You look very happy. In fact, you are glowing, my dear.”
Sara’s statement carried an unasked question. Had Ivy forgiven Sebastian?
It was a question difficult to answer. A month of marriage hardly seemed enough time to forgive such deep betrayals, but deep inside, Ivy knew the answer.Only her damnable pride prevented her from admitting it aloud.
"You believe I’m glowing?" Ivy skirted the issue. "Careful, Sara. Should Lady Garrett hear of my contentment, or the earl’s, she’ll vow I've employed witchcraft to twist events to my benefit.”
Sara grimaced. "How I detest the fact you must live with her. Oh, Ivy, has she been terribly unkind?”
"Just in spirit and demeanor. That first night was a nightmare of awkward silence and Ravenswood attempting to make civilized conversation for the three of us. I understand her unhappiness, Sara, but I too, dread the thought of living with her six months out of the year.”
“I hope Ravenswood will make her mind her manners. I can’t imagine that he won’t. The man seems to worship you. Is it true he gave you one of his stallion’s offspring? And full possession of the estate jewels? They’re said to be worth a king’s ransom and all yours now. Is that brooch from the coffers? It’s beautiful and quite different.”
Ivy traced the tiny, gold filigree and diamond butterfly pinned to her shoulder. The collection of rings, necklaces, bracelets and brooches, tiaras and hatpins, bejeweled haircombs, all meticulously catalogued and stored within a huge safe in the master dressing room, was astounding. When Sebastian showed it to her, that first afternoon at Ravenswood Court, she’d been overwhelmed. Her interest was piqued by the butterfly jewelry, and hearing the story behind the understated piece, Ivy knew she could not allow it to be locked up in the safe again. It was one of the earliest pieces of jewelry commissioned by the first Earl of Ravenswood, presented to his new bride in 1067, the year after William of Normandy overtook the throne of England, pairing those loyal to his cause with the daughters of his enemies.
The brooch was not particularly delicate, due to the craftsmanship of its time, but it was intricately wrought and sturdy; the diamonds cut and placed so light was captured from all angles inside the filigree cage. During dinner that evening, Aunt Rachel had stared at the pin, a fixed smile on her features, and Ivy couldn’t help but wonder if the woman secretly coveted the item.
Sara took another sip of tea, frowned slightly and Ivy grinned. Whatever Lady Sara Morgan wished to say would not stay contain for long.
"This tea is rather strong. It’s from Ravenswood’s own plantation, you say? How interesting, but I’d prefer a different brew, if it isn’t too much trouble.” Sara waited until Ivy rang for another pot before readdressing the subject at hand. “Have a care around Lady Garrett, Ivy,” she advised, taking Ivy's hand and forcing her to meet her eyes. "Ravenswood will keep you safe, but please, do not lower your guard down around that woman. Is it possible she could live elsewhere?”
"And give her yet another reason to truly hate me? The best course is to stay out of each other's path in the attempt to maintain civility.” Ivy managed a brave smile. “But you are right. Sebastian will never allow any harm to come to me.”
Sara laughed sharply. "I’ve learned the lengths he will go to that end. It’s said Viscount Basford departed England with no plans to return in the near future.”
