Page 113 of Taming Ivy
Rachel came closer, perusing the shelf Ivy stared at blindly. “TryHamlet,my dear. Complicated, but a true masterpiece.”
Although she ground her teeth at the subtle jab regarding the infamous play centered on family and multiple poisonings and suicides, somehow, by the grace of God, or maybe the Devil, Ivy’s calm demeanor remained in place as her fingers glided over leather spines, tracing the titles etched in gold.
Realizing her prey refused to take the bait, Rachel sniffed in defeat and floated from the library in a cloud of black.
"I honestly did not know you were in here,” Ivy murmured as the silence stretched until it became a living, breathing entity inhabiting the library’s mahogany paneled walls. Deliberately skippingHamlet, she slidThe Tempestfrom its place. How difficult it was, ignoring Rachel’s insinuation she was little more than an interloper in Sebastian's household, or, even worse, that she might seek an affair with another man. Her fingers clenched with both anger and hurt, the pain a thousand times sharper because her husband failed to dispute his aunt’s suggestion.
"Why did you not tell me you rendezvoused with the Viscount Longleigh?"
Ivy turned, holding the book to her chest as though it were a tiny shield. "I met Lady Grace Willsdown during my ride. Lord Longleigh’s father serves as her guardian and the viscount provided her escort this morning. I did not meet them by previous arrangement.”
"Didn’t you?" The question was soft. "Was the mysterious Lady Willsdown at the ball last night? Is she now tasked with making your assignments? Longleigh was not one of the Pack, nor part of Clayton’s group. Why his sudden interest in you? Or does he simply facilitate your meeting someone else? He is very close to the Duke of Richeforte, although I’m sure you know that.”
"Lady Grace Willsdown is your fifth cousin and her father’s title passed to you years ago, had you bothered to take notice of it. I had no idea either she or Longleigh would be in the park this morning - "
Sebastian interrupted her with a snarl. "Damnit, Ivy. Do you take me for a fool?”
“It is the truth, or Gabriel would have told you otherwise,” she said flatly. “You are welcome to question Longleigh. Or, your newly discovered cousin, should you like.”
“Why did you not tell me you met him there?" The question was repeated just as gently as before, his voice containing a strange quiver.
Ivy’s eyes narrowed. "Because, I did notmeethim. There, or anywhere, for that matter.”
Sebastian’s hands shook the tiniest bit as he swallowed the rest of the brandy. His fingers clenched the glass hard enough to crack it before he tossed it into the fireplace with a muttered curse.
The sound of the glass shattering and the fire popping from the droplets of brandy was abnormally loud in the library’s stillness. Ivy’s heart twisted in abrupt recognition of Sebastian’s distracted jealousy. Perhaps Rachel Garrett was right. Perhaps her husband needed protection from her after all. Her own iciness, her unwillingness to melt; it was destroying him. She was doing nothing to erase his doubts. She was making things worse.
She was ruining them both.
Regret flooded Ivy. Flinging aside the book, she flew to him, her arms wrapping tight about his waist.
Breathing in the sweet, clean fragrance of her, Sebastian gave a broken sigh. His forehead dropped to rest against the top of her hair. Molly had pulled her curls back into a simple braid, the thick rope of it reaching to the small of her back and he toyed with the end of it as Rachel’s warning echoed in Ivy’s mind:You need protection…
Perhaps he believed his aunt. Maybe his obsession would lead to his downfall and she would provide the catalyst for yet another tragedy. A tear trickled down Ivy’s cheek. She buried her head against his chest until his shirt absorbed the bit of wetness. She did not want to be the reason for his heartache and she had no desire to intentionally wound him. Could he understand how terrified she was that he would hurt her?
When his arms tightened, Ivy drew in a deep shuddering breath of relief. Her emotions were so tightly strained that the slightest bit of kindness from him was enough to shatter her fragile composure. Stroking her back in rhythmic silence, Sebastian had no idea how close she was to crumbling.
Later that night, curled against Sebastian's side, Ivy let her arm rest lightly across the width of his abdomen. The rise and fall of his chest below her cheek and his steady breathing was calming. Unconsciously, her grip tightened around his waist. She snuggled closer.
But, even while holding her, she felt the faint chill in his embrace. He would not send her away, as evidenced by his own words, but he remained eerily distant.
Pulling herself to a sitting position, Ivy saw his eyes glittering in the dim light cast by the fire. “Do you believe I would be unfaithful to you?”
Sebastian’s voice was emotionless. “Many women find the constrictions of marriage to be a heavy burden. Some seek pleasure outside the boundaries of wedding vows, and there are men who will believe you to be one of those women. You should not encourage them, Ivy, no matter how innocent their intentions may seem. Fulfilling your duties to the Ravenswood title should keep you busy enough.”
Ivy stared at him. Beneath the carefully chosen words lurked the unspoken accusation. Sebastian believed she would strain against the reins of duty, rebelling against a marriage she never wanted and the responsibilities thrust upon her. He was suspicious, questioning if her escalating unhappiness might force her to another man’s arms. If she came to his bed out of a sense of obligation, she would abandon it just as quickly. She would betray her husband. Eventually.
“The same is said of men, although it is common for them to find pleasures elsewhere, both before and after vows are exchanged,” she pointed out. “Do not mince words with me, Sebastian. Do you believe me capable of betraying you?”
He was taut as a new bow awaiting its first arrow. Her accusation did not meet with denial as his gaze slid to focus once more on the ceiling. His jaw clenched so tight, she saw a muscle ticking in it, even in the close darkness of the room. They were both worn down to delicate shells of raw emotions, a state where every imagined slight carried the potential to erupt into a full-fledged battle. These two issues, obligation and betrayal, were so horribly entangled there seemed no rational way of dealing with one without confronting the other.
Ivy slumped, the tears impossible to stem. "Send me away, Sebastian. Please. Send me away before we destroy any feelings we have for each other with hurtful words and accusations. Send me away before I hurt you, before you hurt me. I cannot bear this any longer.”
Sebastian’s arm snaked about her so quickly Ivy exhaled in relief. Warm and naked, he surged against her, and although she wept with heartache, she welcomed him. No matter the argument between them, the fact he held her, his erection prodding her stomach, his lips gliding over hers, shot a thrill of excitement through her bones. He pulled her beneath him, sinking into her softness.
“I wish it were that simple, Ivy. I wish to God, I could send you away. I wish I could live without you. I told you - and I will tell you again and again, if I must. You are the very air I breathe, my heartbeat and my love. I cannot set you from me - damn you, I cannot. Do not ask it of me again, I beg you. No matter the different ways you demand it, I will always give you the same answer. No. You are mine.”
Deep slumber was damnably elusive. Ivy’s despair tore Sebastian’s heart to pieces and he lay awake until dawn, attempting to find a solution to the coil he had created.
