Page 46 of A Most Unlikely Lady
Something about saying the words aloud gave them power. Like incanting a spell. He felt a rush of energy flow through his body.
Philippa’s cobalt eyes flashed. ‘I knew it. A word of advice.’
She wasn’t asking his permission, but Edward nodded anyway.
‘Some fears must be faced alone. Others require the support of a friend. Be a friend to her before you are anything else.’
Damnation. I hate when she is right.
‘I’m not sure I’m the kind of friend she needs.’
Philippa tapped a finger against her lip. ‘I’m not sure either.’ Before he could respond to her encouraging show of confidence, she continued speaking. ‘But there is only one way to find out. I wouldn’t keep her waiting much longer. If I know Ivy, she’ll find her own way home soon.’
‘Right.’ Edward gave Philippa an abbreviated bow, then walked to the door.
‘Oh, and Edward?’
He paused in the door frame.
‘I will cut you open and hang you from London Bridge by your own entrails if you hurt her.’ Philippa’s smile was stunning. ‘Fair warning.’
And how does one respond to that? Certainly not a handshake or a hug.
He settled for a nod. ‘I would expect nothing less from you.’
11
The carriage ride home was a silent, uncomfortable affair.
How dare he assume he can control my actions? I have lived years of my life under the thumb of my father’s wishes. My brother’s wishes. Society’s wishes. Never once have I been free to make choices based onmy ownwishes.
But she’d done that today. A simple visit to Gunter’s felt like crossing a line. Despite knowing Edward didn’t want her to venture out alone, despite society deeming such behaviour brazen, and despite even Philippa disapproving of Ivy’s actions because of Olivia’s involvement, she made a choice based on her own judgement.
Certainly, a note had been slipped into her pocket. And yes, she might have been in some danger, but danger could find a young lady anywhere. A carriage could lose control on a sunny street in Mayfair, she could slip out of her saddle while riding her horse, fever could sweep through the city, claiming peers and paupers alike.
I can’t live my life constantly fearing all the things thatmighthappen. Past trauma and tragedy have yet to break me. Must I be so afraid of future trauma and tragedy?
‘No,’ she said aloud.
‘Pardon?’ Edward asked.
She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t speaking to you.’
After a protracted moment, Edward nodded. ‘Of course. There are only two of us in this carriage. How silly of me to assume you might be addressing me.’
‘Yes, exactly,’ Ivy agreed.
And what did Philippa wish to speak with him about?
She wouldn’t dare lower herself to ask, though curiosity made it hard to focus on anything else. Forcing her gaze out of the window, she took in the beautiful summer afternoon. The ladies of Mayfair were out in full force, no doubt returning home from their social calls. Ivy determined she would spend the remainder of the carriage ride counting floral hats. A far better pastime than speaking with the pompous ass of a commissioner. And it gave her something to watch other than him during their carriage ride home. Whenever she did look at him, she found her eyes drifting to his mouth, which was neither helpful in maintaining her ire, nor was it beneficial to her overall equanimity.
His lips had firmed into a hard line, and she was not considering how they might feel pressed against her own mouth. Nor was she imagining how his fingers, which were currently drumming a staccato beat on his muscled thigh, might coast over her skin. Ivy forced her gaze back to the window once more and resumed counting.
Twelve hats draped in flowers. Thirteen if I count that debutante with those unfortunate drooping daisies.
The carriage barely rolled to a stop before Ivy leaned over and pushed open the door. Not waiting for the driver to clamber down and set the step, she nimbly jumped to the gravel drive and crunched her way to the front stairs.
If Edward protested, she didn’t hear him. Sailing into the orphanage, Ivy refused to look behind her to see if he followed. The children would just be finishing their time in the yard. Ivy made her way through the mansion, letting herself onto the back veranda and gardens beyond. The sound of laughter and shouting greeted her, as did the scent of honeysuckle and hyacinth.
