Page 37 of Season of the Scoundrel
Still, by the time they’d returned to Blackbourne House, Ivy was still debating with herself whether she should insist they end their engagement sooner rather than waiting for months. He’dassured her that such a break would not harm his reputation, and whatever whispers there were about her would die down.
She’d never appeared in the gossip sheets before the incident and Lord Penrose’s, and she doubted she would again. Her intention was to build a life for herself that wasn’t reliant on the social circles of nobility.
Ivy waited until they were in the drawing room with the pocket doors pulled closed before turning to him, prepared to tell him she’d begun to doubt whether they should hold to their plan.
But when she turned to face him, he’d removed his suit coat and had a hand up to tug the knot of his crisp white bow tie loose. There was nothing particularly scandalous in it, yet somehow the intimacy of the act made her mouth water.
“Something’s troubling you. Tell me what it is.” He gestured toward the settee where they’d sat together yesterday.
Ivy walked over and settled on one end, and he sat closer than he had the day before.
She looked over at him and suddenly wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.
His nearness always scattered her senses and it was as if everything else faded.
The terrible thought came that if they ended the ruse, she’d have no reason to be here with him, sitting on his settee, close enough to reach out and touch him. Close enough to tug that loose fabric of his tie free.
“I’m not certain we’ve made the right decision,” she told him, her voice quiet and more tentative than she usually was with anyone.
He tipped his head, shifting so he was angling toward her. “What has given you doubts? The incident with Grainger?”
“No, of course not. But does it no trouble you that others whisper about us? That everyone’s wondering why you’d make such a rash choice?”
A frown pulled his brows down a moment. “No. Let them whisper. Let them judge. Trust me when I tell you they would do so no matter what we did. We are a morsel to chew on at the moment, and something else will soon be served up to distract them.”
“I’m not someone anyone could imagine as a duchess.”
His hand lay on the cushion near her left hand. He inched it closer, lifting his pinky to stroke it across hers, his fingertip brushing the ring he’d placed on her finger.
“I can imagine it,” he said in a husky murmur. “I have since the moment I met you.”
“How can that be?” Ivy’s voice was raspy too. It felt as if her heart had risen and lodged itself in her throat. “I wasn’t behaving like any proper duchess would that day.”
Ross smiled. “By whose measure? You showed courage and a great deal of mettle. Those are qualities any duchess would do well to possess.”
“I spent two Seasons as a wallflower, more interested in observing the nobility than ever truly being a part of them.”
Gently, he stroked his fingers over hers. Ivy instinctively turned her hand palm, and he fitted his own over hers.
“Did you ever see me at any of those balls or soirees?” he asked, his voice whisper low.
“No.”
“I prefer to spend my time with a circle of friends I trust or with my family. I understand my role, but I’ve always been determined to choose my own way of performing it.” He laced their fingers together, then looked up at her. “So could you?”
Ivy couldn’t look away, and the feel of her hand in his felt right, comforting and enticing all at the same time.
“But this isn’t real,” she whispered.
“May I confess something to you?” He hesitated a moment, licking his lips, drawing her gaze to his mouth a moment.
That yearning she felt whenever she was with him seemed to grow inside her like a hunger. She had the brazen thought of leaning in and kissing him before he could say another word.
“From the moment I suggested a betrothal, part of me wished it might one day be a true one.”
Ivy hadn’t known what she expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. A strange sense of panic seized her and she stood from the settee, looking down at him.
“You’d be making a mistake,” she told him vehemently. “There are dozens of other eligible, well bred, accomplished young ladies out there who would wish to take on the duties of a duchess.”
