Page 86 of Taming Ivy
"We shall make our own.”
A half memory, perhaps something he witnessed his own parents do once long ago when he was a boy, flashed in Sebastian’s eyes. Placing one hand in the small of her back, he rested it there for a brief second then drew her closer into him.
Sensation, hot and thrilling, shot straight from his hand to Ivy’s very core. Maybe he knew how the simple gesture affected her, but Sebastian only smiled and gathered her, his hands moving to the proper places. Humming the tune of an unknown waltz, he twirled her around the gleaming oak floor with its inlaid swirls and center medallion emblazoned with the Ravenswood crest.
They created a haunting beauty. Anyone peeking in would have been enthralled by it. Ivy’s chestnut curls tumbled to feather the tops of Sebastian's hand resting in the hollow of her back. He cut a dashingly handsome figure in dark brown breeches and a simple white shirt. No pretense existed between them at that moment. No glittering crowd, no witty repartees, no clinking champagne glasses and double innuendos. Best of all, a lack of clever banter and a blessed absence of chatty gossip drifted in their wake as they floated across the ballroom. Only the two of them inhabited that moment and it was simple, perfect and honest.
Ivy hummed the tune with him until it faded and they stood in awkward silence in the cavernous room. Sebastian drew her closer, his arms wrapping completely about her waist. The corner of his lips lifted with a wistful smile. "I shall always remember this.”
Ivy had the impression of being dragged into something warm and encompassing, a safe harbor she could trust if only she allowed herself to do so. "As will I.” Her admission was reluctant but truthful.
"Oh, Ivy. I do love you, you know” His lips touched hers. “Too much for my own sanity, I think.”
Ivy knew he felt her melt, knew he tasted her hesitation as it eased away and she kissed him back. But before, when he might have deepened the kiss, sliding into something darker, more passionate, this time he did not. When she made a longing noise low in her throat, Sebastian again was the one to step away.
Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to it, easing the sting of his retreat. "Little butterfly, we have so many things to explore…”
Ivy tried to gather her wits. Did he refer to something more intimate? She could not seem to think straight, and that was not likely to change if he insisted on kissing her in every room of this huge mansion. But still, she mused, glancing about the ballroom, this, this was her favorite moment of the morning.
Sebastian's expression when he said he loved her caused an odd little pang in her heart. He was destroying her defenses in the most devious of ways. Soon, she would dissolve in a puddle of weak foolishness and then where would she be in this game of cat and mouse?
Ivy mustered up a cool degree of aloofness as they continued through the house and Sebastian frowned in amusement as she skillfully kept herself out of arm’s reach. He knew precisely what she was doing but allowed her to play the little game with a shrug. It was only when they entered the room doubling as both nursery and schoolroom, did her improvised strategy unravel.
A sturdy swinging cradle crafted of smooth rosewood, adorned with a few wispy spider webs, sat in forlorn abandonment in one corner. It was a piece of art, with all its intricate carvings. The crest of the Ravenswood earldom formed the head of the cradle, the split shield containing roses, trailing vines and a raven with widespread wings carved on one side, a long stemmed curved rose in full bloom climbing the other.
"Did you sleep in this as a babe?" Ivy inquired, her fingers trailing over the carvings.
"I did.” Sebastian touched the side of the cradle so that it rocked gently. "So did my father. And his father. And his before him. Whatever previous Cain children slept in was destroyed in the fire. This cradle is still sturdy enough to hold a dozen children, I believe.” When she blushed, his laugh was almost bitter. "Do not fret. I've no intention of burdening you with so many.”
Her head tilted. Of course, he would want children. At least one. Having an heir was necessary and inevitable once they shared a bed as husband and wife. A wave of remorse swept her. Her childish efforts to maintain a distance between them was selfish. Not many husbands would allow such headstrong and foolish behavior. Nor be so patient.
Sebastian had hurt and betrayed her. Truly, she must guard her heart, but the fact remained she was his wife. Her duty was to provide his successor. She gave a vow, before God and witnesses, to be his in every sense of the word. Eventually, she must honor that vow.
Ivy reached for his hand, untangling his fingers where they gripped the side of the cradle. "Half a dozen then.” Her fingers meshed with his, her mouth curving into a smile.
Sebastian blinked. He was silent for a long moment. "There is only one way to ensure such a brood.”
"Yes.” She acknowledged even while holding her breath.
He did not say anything else although his hand closed firmly over hers. Ivy knew he did not miss the slight sway of her body, the little intake of breath as her face tilted to his. A flash of pleased triumph appeared in his gaze.
"Why don't we make our way downstairs for lunch? Then I shall take you to the west gardens. They were my mother's favorite. I think you shall adore them as well.” Sebastian abruptly turned, pulling her toward the nursery’s door.
Frowning at his unexpected defection when she would have willingly allowed him a kiss, Ivy followed him from the dusty nursery in contemplative silence.
CHAPTER 29
Three days passed and during the nights following their conversation in the nursery, Ivy hoped Sebastian would sweep her into his arms, to make love to her.
He did not, adhering to the vow of making her beg for his attentions. Night after night, desire bubbled beneath the surface, and night after night, each remained silently stubborn, unwilling to be the one to bend first.
Catching sight of Gabriel striding across the wide lawn, Ivy gave a desperate wave for the man to join the two of them. It was early afternoon and refreshments were set upon the expanse of green stretching between the house and the stables. A tea tray, the remnants of a few cucumber and watercress sandwiches and an awkward silence were all that remained between Ivy and her husband. Gabriel’s presence was a godsend.
Sebastian leaned back in the wrought iron chair, his brow furrowed upon seeing the seriousness on the other man’s face.
"I should not interrupt.” Gabriel protested.
"Nonsense,” Ivy said quickly. "It is little trouble to fetch an extra cup. Besides, we require more tea anyway.” She reached for a little brass bell on the tray, and in rapid fashion a fresh pot, and cup, and a new plate of sandwiches were procured.
