Page 15 of Taming Ivy
So, she would play his little game after all.
“Milord, if it pleases you.” Brody motioned for him to advance, stepping aside only when necessary to allow entrance to the music room.
Sebastian twisted to witness the wink the butler gave Ivy and her answering smile. In a repeat of seven years prior, his overcoat, hat, and gloves again went uncollected when he stood waiting like a commoner on the front steps. Now, he practically threw the items at the servant and with a tranquil smile, closed the door with a slow purpose in Brody’s abruptly scowling face.
Alone with his adversary, his heartbeat accelerated with pleasant anticipation. Leaning his shoulders flush with the wood panels of the door, Sebastian watched her.
Ivy sat at pianoforte of gleaming ebony, staring at a piece of sheet music. She did not lift her eyes, and although prepared for it, her beauty struck Sebastian. Clad in a sage and cream gown, she was as light and cheery as England’s emerging spring. The heart-shaped curve of her bodice dipped in a modest nod, revealing only the topmost swell of her breasts while a broad sash of pale lemon satin accentuated her tiny waist. Rather than a demure bun, a wealth of dark chestnut hair spilled down her back, almost touching the bow of the sash. Sunshine streaming through green and gold paneled drapes at the window caught her in shafts of light, illuminating all the honey colored tones in that beautiful hair. Without the romantic glow of the ballroom to lend a mysterious allure to her features, it was shocking to realize just how young the countess was. Ivy possessed the guise of a true innocent, an angel painted in a masterpiece, delicate and sweet, suddenly come to life.
Sebastian’s lips tightened. He knew hertruenature. This -this scene, staged for maximum effect, no doubt - marched in forceful contradiction to the truth.
He pushed off from the carved door, advancing with measured steps until he stood beside the bench. From this vantage point, he thought he could see her heart beating beneath the fabric of her dress. Ivy’s breath quickened, but she still refused to lift her gaze. A strange sense of expectancy permeated the room. If only she dared peek up, it was possible the earth and everything in it might shatter.
“The roses are quite lovely in this room.”Look at me, damn you.
“Hmmm. Thank you for sending the bouquet. It was very kind of you.” Ivy’s voice was soft but steady.
Where was the scathing wit of the woman in the reports he had received? This girl was too cowed to look at him. That challenging fire in her eyes last night must have been imagined.
Bach’sItalian Concerto Andanteflowed from the belly of the pianoforte, the notes echoing with a fitful melancholy. It reminded Sebastian of a funeral dirge.“I apologize for the delay in my arrival.” He was too ruthless; he must gentle his approach after all. What a skittish little mouse she was.
“I did not remember you were coming.” Ivy possessed all the sereneness of a nun during prayers, her fingers trailing over the keys. “Your tardiness is of little matter.”
Sebastian’s grin melted.
He itched to grab her shoulders. He wanted to shake her until she had no choice but to acknowledge him. He desperately wished to turn her over his knee and spank her little rump for the impudent manner she spoke to him just now. The salacious thought made his palm tingle.
“Terrible accident on Regent. I was forced to leave the carriage and make my way on foot. One can only hope my driver manages to find his way here before I must depart.”
“I hope you have no trouble departing as well, my lord.” The sly derision in Ivy’s tone, hidden beneath a layer of unfailing politeness, drove him to distraction. “I'd hate for you to stay a moment longer, should you feel yourself unwelcomed.”
Sebastian slid onto the bench beside her. It was large enough for two, but he spread his legs with deliberate intent, crowding her. With the pianoforte positioned close to a curved wall of windows, Ivy could not gracefully slip out the other side. Her fingers stilled on the keys when he pressed close enough to crush her skirts. It seemed an eternity, but finally, her eyes rose to clash with his. A scathing rebuke probably hovered on her lips, waiting to be issued with icy authority, but her mouth pulled into a thin line. He smiled at her veiled irritation, nudging her with his shoulder. “You must play exceptionally well.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You surely know this piece by heart, considering.”
“Considering?”
He indicated the music holder. “The sheet music. It’s upside down.”
Ivy’s fingers compressed into fists, dropping from the keys to her lap. “Do you play?” When Sebastian shook his head, her delicate chin tilted in the most stubborn gesture he’d ever witnessed on a female. “I’ve played since the age of four. I find this to be more challenging.”
“How interesting.” Her bravado was amusing even if her explanation was ridiculous. “I find the selection quite depressing for such a beautiful afternoon. Do you know something a bit more lighthearted?”
Just when he thought she might refuse, Ivy conceded with a stiff nod, launching into a lively concerto by Mozart. When necessary, she leaned across while Sebastian remained in his position with deliberate intent. He relished how her arm rubbed his, appreciative of the way her hair tumbled across her shoulders and down her back. A few of those glossy strands clung to his afternoon coat.
His close proximity flustered her. Each time she stretched to touch distant keys, Ivy chewed her bottom lip. Even if she was affecting him to the point of madness, he enjoyed her discomfort. The fragrance she wore, a questionable cross of oranges and lilies, teased his nose. He craved the opportunity to sink his hands into her hair. Would those unruly waves feel as silky as they looked? Would they wind about his fingers? Slide through his hands like heated honey? How many men had been entertained in this music room? How many sat on this same bench to gaze adoringly while she played? How proficient was she in other activities? Juxtaposed with this exquisite creature, the thoughts were ugly and black.
That her lovers’ identities remained unknown was vexing. Whispered rumors and conjectures ran rampant, but thus far, no hard evidence existed to condemn anyone. The tight-lipped fools were surely the most loyal and discreet group of noblemen to ever grace English soil and Ivy’s power ran deep to inspire such devoted silence. But he would unlock her secrets soon enough. With enough money and persuasion, it was possible to unearth any mystery.
Sebastian clapped with slow deliberateness at the end of the musical piece. Ivy’s hands dropped to her lap, curling into fists again. Before he could set the tone of the conversation, she took control, eyes bright with caution.
“Why did you come here today, Lord Ravenswood?”
Damn, her skills at putting him on defense were impressive. The possibility she could possibly outwit him was most alarming.
“Do you receive so many bouquets you haven’t time to read all the cards?” Sebastian teased. “According to society's guidelines, my intentions are quite clear.”
