Page 22 of Taming Ivy
“You weigh no more than a woodland sprite. Monvair will endure, and if not, others await anxiously to take his place.”
Along the edges of the ballroom floor, the Pack paced back and forth on tenterhooks. Visibly horrified by Ivy’s choice of a dance partner, they mumbled amongst themselves as if making plans to steal her back.
“You’ve upset the balance of things by stealing me from the count,” she said.
Sebastian swept her a glance from beneath lowered lashes. “You do not belong to him. It is not stealing.”
“I do not belong to anyone, Lord Ravenswood,” she shot back but he only smiled at her heated statement, as though he knew secrets she did not.
It made her nervous, that smile of his. She was swimming in deep waters, and the earl had far more experienced at this little game they played.
“We have the attention of nearly every guest in attendance.” Ivy nodded at the glittering crowd suspended along the edges of the marble floor. There was much whispering and passing of knowing glances. All concerning the two of them, no doubt. “You could not sneak a teaspoon out of here without someone’s notice.”
“Must I prove a point? I'm an expert in such things.” His arm tightened at her waist, his eyes hungry and hot. “And in other matters. I could show you.”
“I can’t imagine what you would gain from such actions.” From his slight frown, her bluntness shocked him.
“You cannot begin to fathom…” Sebastian took a deep breath. “I’m a selfish bastard so I assure you it would be well worth my effort.” His eyes flared with the confession and he seemed unable to conceal the desire lurking in those grey depths. “Would it be considered bad form to point out I just stole the waltz I wanted?”
Ivy laughed despite herself. As they danced, he had maneuvered her to one of the French doors opening to an elevated terrace with an overview of the gardens. Before the tune ended, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, leading her out into the brisk night air.
Taking care for the pale coral silk of her ball gown, Ivy leaned against a waist high stone wall bordering the promenade. Along with the help of a full moon, bobbing Chinese lanterns gave a magical glow to the shadowy expanse of lawn. A giggling couple, unaware of they were watched from above, strolled to the darkest of the garden paths winding through the estate and stood indecisively.
“Your actions embolden others,” Ivy rebuked as the couple below suddenly disappeared from view, holding hands as they eased down the obscurity of the path.
“Meaning the Pack follows where others might lead?” Sebastian rested his forearms on the top edge of the stacked stone. The heat coming from his body was comforting. She should have been cold in the night air without a wrap on her shoulders, but it was difficult to feel chilled with him standing so close.
“They are very persistent, and pursuit is a game to them. Attempting to corner me alone is a singular objective.” Ivy glanced at the earl’s profile. “When one succeeds, others try to emulate. I am the one who suffers their efforts.”
It was dangerous and exciting to be with Sebastian in the perfumed darkness. Ivy's heart pounded, which was unnerving and out of the ordinary. Her heart had never thudded with such confusing, wild exhilaration before.
“Demand they desist in their pursuit.” His jaw clenched.
“Their ears hear only what they wish. So, I frequently ignore their foolishness. Sara says I’m so far away sometimes it’s a wonder no one taps my head, searching for me,” she smiled. “The Pack can be relentless, but I’ve no wish to hurt anyone or crush fragile egos by refusing…” Her words trailed away, the harsh memory of Timothy Garrett stinging her like a slap to the face. “What I mean is…”
Sebastian pushed off from the wall at the sudden distress in her voice. If his thoughts shifted to her role in the death of his cousin, he gave no indication. “I understand more than you realize. Marriage-minded mamas and a few fathers use to pitch their daughters at my feet with alarming frequency. My doorstep was quite littered and ignoring them was not an option.”
Waiting for the earl to strike with cutting swiftness, Ivy wondered if perhaps hewassympathetic. The tenseness in her shoulders eased.
He had tangled his fingers with hers and staring at their merged hands, Ivy nearly forgot to breathe. His hand was huge, swallowing her palm. She felt tiny and fragile next to him. Was it possible Sebastian meant her no harm? Was she naïve to trust him? She shook away the doubts.
“I find I do not like the idea of you being hunted.”
A faint confusion threaded Sebastian's words but Ivy had no time to contemplate it when he moved with a sudden purpose, pushing until her lower back was flush with the stonewall.
What was he doing? Would he kiss her? Here? Now? Ivy sucked in a breath, waiting. He crowded her, but she did not mind. Far from it. She quivered with longing, her gaze drifting to his mouth.Cinnamon, he will taste of cinnamon.Sebastian’s head dipped and her lips parted with anticipation.
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Viscount Basford marched onto the terrace as if going off to war. From the depths of a deep tunnel, Ivy heard him inquire of a small group assembled near the open doors if anyone had the pleasure of seeing the Countess of Somerset or, perhaps, the Earl of Ravenswood passing through recently. A young lady giggled, pointing toward the darkened end of the terrace.
Sebastian stepped back. Her hand slipped from his.
Ivy stifled a moan of irritation.
“There you are, my dear,” Brandon’s tone held a proprietary timber as he strode toward them. “I had no idea you had wandered out here.”
If it were possible to slap the viscount across his smug face at that moment, Ivy would have. Obviously, he’d been searching for her and now that he’d found her, she was his by prior rights.
The two men gave one another perfunctory bows, a cool frostiness chilling the air. It lingered as Brandon took Ivy’s elbow, his grip tighter than necessary. He wished to demonstrate his favored position in the Pack. Most of all, he meant to remind Sebastian he was the outsider.
