Page 25 of Season of the Scoundrel
“Give me a day to alert my mother,” Blackbourne said. “I’ll have a telegram sent to Sussex.”
“Of course,” Lily told him with a smile. “Will she be told the truth too?”
“I think not.” Blackbourne glanced at Ivy, then added, “As far as I’m concerned, you are the only two who shall know the truth of his arrangement.”
“And Nell,” Ivy whispered.
“And Nell,” Blackbourne agreed.
“I don’t like the notion of lying to the Duchess of Blackbourne.” Griffin cast a look Lily’s way, as if for moral support.
“She’ll be thrilled at the news,” Blackbourne assured him.
“And when she learns it was a contrivance?”
“She won’t,” Ivy put in. “We will end the engagement amicably and as quietly as possible.”
“Then it’s all settled.” Lily came forward and reached for Ivy’s hand. She looked as pleased as if Ivy had truly agreed to marry a duke.
“Lily…” Griffin started. Clearly, he was still not entirely pleased with the plan.
She tipped a look back at him. “Let’s talk about it later,” she told him.
He frowned, but Lily turned a beaming smile back at Ivy and then Blackbourne.
“I suppose you can no longer decline our invitations, Your Grace,” she said teasingly.
“I shall look forward to your next invitation.”
Blackbourne turned to leave the study, and Ivy followed him out, then led him toward the front hall.
“There’s something I forgot,” he said to her quietly, looking behind her as if to be certain no one observed them.
For a breathless moment, Ivy thought he might kiss her. His eyes held hers so intently and then flicked down to her lips.
“You must have a ring, Miss Bridewell.” He took her left hand in a gentle hold, never lowering his gaze from hers, then slid a ring onto her finger.
The metal was cool against her skin, and she glanced down to find a faceted oval emerald surrounded by diamonds sparking like crackling flames in the gaslight.
“Good grief, Blackbourne, it’s too much,” she said, her voice suddenly full of emotion. “And you must call me Ivy now.”
“Then you must call me Ross.” He still held her hand and stroked her fingers. “And you must have this one. Otherwise, my mother won’t believe our engagement is genuine.”
The of it being genuine flashed in her mind. What if a man like Blackbourne chose her? What if his feelings for her made how ill-fitted to be a duchess irrelevant?
She pushed the thoughts away. They were silly and fantastical, and it wasn’t like her to give into fancies like something out of the romantic novels her sisters favored.
“I’ll be careful with it until I return it to you. I promise,” she told him.
He smiled at that—one of those warm, magnetic, wits-scattering smiles.
Not until that very second did Ivy truly recognize the danger in their plan.
They would feign being enamored with one another, and yet what happened if she truly lost her heart?
CHAPTER 7
Ross had a telegram sent to his mother the moment he returned to his townhouse, and he suspected it might prompt her to buy a return ticket to London. He could well imagine what she would have to say about his choice of duchess. How could she not approve? Ivy was the sister-in-law of a duke, whose family was secure in their wealth and free of scandal.
