Page 6 of An Earl by Any Other Name
So he didn’t remember her, then? It stung, yet perhaps that was for the best, given the secret mission Leo’s mother had entrusted her with. It was best he did not recognize her and she did not wish to be remembered as “Button.”
“My name is Ivy Leighton.”
Her name had no effect on him, not that it should have. She’d taken her father’s surname after she’d left Hampton and she couldn’t remember a time when Leo had called her Ivy. Perhaps he didn’t even know it was her name. She hadn’t mentioned her mother’s maiden name, Jameson, so there was the real possibility he wouldn’t recognize her at all. Ivy wasn’t a unique name, not really.
Leo captured one of her gloved hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Leighton, even under such trying circumstances.” His lips twitched at the last few words as though he was doing his best not to tease her. “I see you are having some difficulties with your automobile.” His eyes roved over the state of the smoking motorcar behind her, assessing the situation.
She tilted her head to the side. Something was different about him, and it wasn’t simply that he’d grown into a man and left the last traces of his boyhood behind. No…he had changed, and she couldn’t put her finger on how. There was a seriousness to him, a grave solemnity of a man who’d suffered tragedy and loss and now bore a heavy burden. It gave her a bittersweet longing for the young man he’d once been and a respect for the man he’d become now. One thing that had not changed was the effect of his devastating smile. He could have made a fortune bottling it and selling it to lonely hearts throughout England.
In his unbuttoned Burberry motoring coat, trousers, and cap, Leo looked every inch a man of leisure. Yet a silver pocket watch chain glinting in the sunlight lent him an air of authority and precision. An altogether different impression from the boy he’d once been who’d spent an evening capturing glow worms with her in the garden or comforting her after she’d had a rough day and scraped her knee while running about.
She remembered grinning at him so broadly her cheeks hurt as he bent down to show her a captured insect between his palms. The green light had illuminated his face as he studied the black insect. In that moment, they’d been bound together by a spell of twilight and an effervescent glow. Having to stay still, breaths held, so as not to frighten the shy glowworm into darkening her shine. Her heart clenched in longing for warm summer nights like those again. She swallowed the sudden sense of homesickness for a place she’d forced herself to try and forget.
“It was very kind of you to stop and help a lady in distress.” She offered a smile, hoping the action would lift her spirits. She had to put memories of that sixteen-year-old boy with merry, twinkling eyes and a tempting smile behind her or she’d be lost. He’s not for you; you cannot fall in love with him, not again. The Leo she faced now was businesslike and polite, with only a hint of that charming, troublemaking boy she remembered so well.
What had changed him? Had his mother been right that his father’s death and the pressures of running the estate had turned him cool and passionless? She’d heard some of the rumors about his father but wasn’t sure if they were true. Given how the whispers of his father’s mistress had persisted, it had likely affected his reception with most of the respectable families in the city. Even now she could see a hint of that resigned expression in his beautiful eyes. Where was the fiery young man who’d stolen her heart? No wonder Lady Hampton begged me to come visit him.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I am the Earl of Hampton. I would be delighted to help, though I confess to knowing nothing of motorcar engines. If you permit, I shall escort you to your destination and send my mechanic to repair your automobile and return it to you.” As Leo spoke, he leaned in, placing one hand against the car beside her hip, and she shivered at the scent of him and his warmth. She had always been aware of him; like a planet hugging a distant star, she was connected to him in ways she’d never been with any other man. And that was what made him so dangerous to her. He was perhaps the one man in all of England who could tempt her into falling in love. And love would ruin all of her dreams for a brighter future as a woman with rights. Still, she had promised Lady Hampton she would visit the house and see Leo; she simply needed to guard her heart while she was here.
“My lord, it seems we are both fortunate. My destination is in fact Hampton House. I was invited by the countess for her house party.”
This caught him by surprise. His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze swept her body. Within her tan duster covered in dirt, Ivy must have looked a fright. Not that she could have helped her appearance, but she would have loved to have met him again under better circumstances.
Comprehension showed in the widening of his eyes as he made some mental connection. “My mother invited you? You aren’t the newspaper fellow’s daughter, are you?”
The newspaper fellow? So Lady Hampton had mentioned her coming, then. Over tea, Lady Hampton had outlined a scheme to play a game upon Leo that required some level of discretion as to Ivy’s identity. Leo’s mother was convinced he would be too well behaved if he realized Ivy had once been the child he’d looked after. It would be better to hide her identity for a time so she could be treated like any other lady he might meet. The idea of deception hadn’t set well with Ivy, but she had to admit she did not want him thinking of Button during the house party.
I’ll tell him who I really am, after he has a chance to know me as a woman.
“My father is indeed the newspaperman.” She chuckled. He wasn’t the first to react that way to her father’s background. Leo’s eyes were still fixed upon her face and she tried not to wriggle under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. It made her feel warm in the oddest places, and it was much more like the Leo she’d known as a girl.
“Fortunate indeed that I found you, then.” He looked over her shoulder into the motorcar. “Your luggage?”
Before she could step out of the way, he moved, accidentally pressing her against the door. A flush of heat coursed through her in a sudden rush when he didn’t immediately step back. His eyes blazed with an unexpected interest that made her feel small and vulnerable. As though he could see through her, pick apart her soul, and study the pieces and understand her. What a terrifying thought…Never had she wanted a man to evoke such a feeling, but with him, it was exciting, rather than frightening. Ivy licked her lips and his eyes tracked the movements the way a lion would a mouse.
“Your”—he breathed deeply—“bag,” he murmured, sliding past her to reach into the Hudson. He retrieved it without any of the trouble she’d had. “This way.”
He gestured toward his auto, which was parked next to hers.
It was a lovely black Stanley Touring motorcar. Her father had almost bought the same model instead of the Hudson, but in the end he’d opted for the striking yellow auto, valuing the flash more than the extra seats.
Leo walked ahead of her, placing her luggage behind the front passenger seat.
Ivy retrieved her eye goggles and hastily got into her side of the Stanley, which earned her a raised brow by Leo, who had only just turned to try and open the door for her. For some reason, she needed a moment of space between them, at least long enough to get her breath and her good sense back. How was a woman supposed to concentrate around such an irresistible man? When he was too close, she seemed to think only of him and wonder if his lips were as soft as they looked.
Once they were driving back down the road, he turned to look at her.
“Are you traveling alone? Mother mentioned your father was coming. I’m sure she would have insisted you be escorted.” There was a note of disapproval to his voice that she didn’t like.
She hesitated before replying. “My father is coming tomorrow afternoon on the train, and he’s bringing my lady’s maid and his valet. Your mother said one of her upstairs maids could wait upon me until they arrived.”
“So was that your father’s Hudson?”
The question prickled her because his tone seemed to imply a woman could not own a motorcar. It was her father’s but only because she insisted they share a vehicle, when he offered to buy her one of her own. They didn’t need two; that would have been silly.
“It is,” she replied a tad stiffly. “But I have plenty of experience driving it.”
Let him think what he will about that.
