Page 35 of Season of the Scoundrel
“I was glad to accept his invitation,” Ivy said, vaguely recalling the woman from her last Season. Her beauty made her memorable, but Ivy didn’t recall ever meeting Lord Grainger at all.
“How is your sister?” Miss Grainger asked. “The duchess and I both attended the same tea a few weeks ago.”
“She’s well.”
“And pleased with the felicitous news?”
“Yes, of course.” Ivy felt a flare of irritation. She knew her match with Blackbourne would be scrutinized, but was it so unthinkable?
“You and the duchess must join me for tea soon. I’ll send an invitation.”
“Thank you.”
As the lady offered her a nod and turned as if to stride off and mingle with other guests, Ivy said, “Would you direct me to the retiring room, Miss Grainger?”
“Of course, my dear. To left, down the hallway. It’s the third door you’ll come upon.”
“Thank you.”
A pair of ladies, who’d been watching her on and off looked as if they planned to approach the moment Grainger sister stepped away, but Ivy wasn’t interested in more questions or even more congratulations paired with assessing glances.
What she truly wanted was to know what was transpiring between Grainger and Ross.
She tried not to bolt from the room and made her way with as much poise as she imagined a future duchess should possess. But as soon as she was in the house’s main hall, she picked up her pace, stopping at each door to listen a moment, hoping to hear the sound of Ross’s voice.
Then she heard a bark of male laughter to her left and stepped toward the closed door it had emerged from.
“Who has made such spurious claims?” Lord Grainger asked.
“Rumors travel in society, as you know,” Ross replied.
“Ah, yes, and you know that well, Blackbourne, considering your hasty engagement.”
Ivy closed her eyes, imagining what Ross’s response to that might be.
Just then a couple of ladies exited the retiring room one door down and Ivy took a few quick steps to tuck herself into an alcove behind a potted palm.
“I barely remember her from last Season. Did she make an impression on you?” one said to the other.
“Not at all, and here I thought Blackbourne was saving himself for a true diamond.”
“She seems rather plain…”
Their voices drifted off as they turned and made their way back into the Grainger’s drawing room, and Ivy forced herself to unclench her teeth.
For the first time since she and Ross had made this mad pact, she felt the error of it. No one was going to believe that he’d choose her of all the eligible ladies in London. Before meeting him, she’d never wanted to be chosen by anyone but a London publisher who might see merit in her work.
Perhaps they should end the ruse sooner rather than later. Then he could go on to find a lady who’d be the perfect duchess, and she could focus once more on her writing.
As her heart raced and her mind churned, she heard raised voices drifting out from the door where Ross and Grainger were cloistered. A moment later, Ross emerged from the nobleman’s study.
“Ross.”
He spun around, his face tight with anger. Then his expression immediately softened when he spotted her.
“We should depart,” he said with a glance back at the open door he’d just stepped through.
“Now? We’ve only just arrived.”
