Page 21 of An Earl by Any Other Name
“Half-lived lives are not worth anything. I know that men focus on tradition and custom; it gives you comfort without fear of change. But you have to ask yourself. What is gained if there is never any change? Women have never voted before, so why should we change it? If you had a daughter, one you loved fiercely, who was brilliant in her mind and her heart, would you condemn her to live a life with a man who would see her as a means to an end? Just property? Would you want your darling daughter to have no rights at all? What if she was smarter than your sons? Would you want her to have no equality simply because of her gender?” She turned to face him, liking the way he was solely focused on her, eyes intense and mouth slightly parted as though thinking of what she’d said.
“But wouldn’t my daughter have me or her husband to protect her and see to her needs?”
Ivy frowned deeply. Lord, getting him or any man to see light was an uphill battle she knew she would always face. “Imagine for a moment that your father was alive again and the restrictions he put on your life. Did you enjoy it?”
Leo shuddered. “Of course not. The man stopped me at every turn. I had no ability to do anything that I…” His words died away as he seemed to see her point clearly for the first time.
“Now you understand. It’s the same for women. We feel no less caged than men in such situations, yet it is our daily lot. Look at it from a slavery perspective. A hundred years ago, slavery was legal. Now it is not. Would you argue that we should never have ended slavery? Or say that it was not in man’s universal best interests to set him free? A woman without a say in her culture, her politics, her life, or her property is no better than a slave. The chains are invisible, but still they are there.”
Leo stared at her, a strange look of dawning comprehension on his face. A flicker of hope stirred in her chest. Did he finally understand?
“By God, you are quite brilliant,” he muttered, seemingly shocked at his own response. “I still think too many women are far too frivolous with nothing but petticoats on their minds. I wouldn’t know if I could trust them to think logically enough to vote.” He spoke carefully to her, not in the condescending way he had at tea when they’d first quarreled over the issue.
Ivy laughed. “Our sex will always prefer fashion—it is in our nature to look desirable—but men are just as frivolous with your obsessions over your clothes as well as hunting and gambling. Simply because a woman might not know everything to make an informed decision doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have the right. I have met plenty of men in London who know little of politics yet they still vote. A person shouldn’t be deprived of their rights simply because you don’t believe they are informed on the issues.” A chill breeze made her shiver but she was glad he was listening to her at last.
“Touché.” With a rueful shake of his head, he rose from the log and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“A hunting lodge. It’s not far,” he assured her. “I’ve been watching you shiver for the last half hour and can’t abide the sight of it any longer. You could use a warm fire.”
Ivy blushed. She was cold but didn’t want him to see her as weak.
“I’m fine, Leo.” His name slipped out again, and she hastily turned her face away, but not before she saw him grin as though he were privy to some secret and would not share it with her.
The wooded glen they entered a few moments later revealed a small brown stone lodge. It appeared well kept and inviting. Leo opened the door and gestured for her to enter first. A cozy bed was in the corner of the room and a brick fireplace stood ready for lighting, with logs and tinder already placed in the hearth. A small kitchen area provided an array of foodstuffs tucked in the cupboards. Ivy’s lips pursed as she realized someone had brought food as though the visit to the lodge had been planned.
Leo set his gun down by the door, shrugged out of his Norfolk shooting jacket, and removed his hat. He tossed it onto one of the comfortable-looking armchairs facing the fire. Then he knelt in front of the hearth and started to work on lighting the tinder. Ivy loved to watch him move as he rose and stepped back from the hearth, the fire now devouring logs. He glanced about the room, eyes taking in everything as though to assure himself it was adequately prepared for their stay. He was comfortable in their surroundings. It was obvious he came here often.
“Come over here,” he urged, pointing to the empty chair. She obeyed, biting her lip to hide a smile as he retrieved a thick woolen blanket from the bed and wrapped her in it like a child before he turned his attention back to the fireplace, stoking it with a poker. Sparks shot out and the crackling and snapping increased, as did the warmth that kissed her face and hands where they peeped out from the blanket.
“Will the others miss us?” Ivy suddenly realized the precariousness of the situation. It wouldn’t take much for the rest of the shooting party to notice their absence. She would be compromised, and Leo would be forced to marry her. It would ruin both their lives.
“They won’t miss us. Mr. Bramble, my head gamekeeper, will know to avoid the cottage. He will have the rest of the party chasing pheasants in the opposite direction.”
Had Leo intended for this to happen? To get her to a secluded location and compromise her without having anyone witness it? Surely he wasn’t so cold and calculating…Anger surged through her, sharpening her senses and heightening her awareness of the quiet solitude of their location.
“You planned this?”
He glanced at her, brushing dust off his hands with a small cloth before tossing it to the ground. The look on his face was an angry one, his brows bunched above his eyes as he glowered at her.
“Bramble knows I come here often and have no real taste for shooting. The lodge is always ready for me, and he keeps the other guests away so I might have a brief respite from the crack of gunfire.”
Deflated and embarrassed, Ivy looked away. It was then she noticed several framed sketches on the wall. Sketches by an artist she knew only too well…her mother.
“Where did you get those?” She rose, wrapping the blanket about her like a long shawl as she approached the nearest sketch. It showed a young girl, Ivy, playing in the shallows of a stream, caught up in wild abandon as only a child could be when tossing pebbles. Ivy closed her eyes as the vivid memory of that day took over. The warmth of the afternoon sun, just hot enough to turn her cheeks rosy but not to burn. The water, cold and crisp, nipping at her ankles like exuberant puppies. The way the light flashed and sparkled on the surface as the water broke over the rocks. Her mother had laughed and settled down on the grass close by the edge, sketching. Ivy had never known her mother had drawn her that day. She had been too lost in the delight of the moment.
Leo’s body heat warmed her from behind, and his hands fell onto her shoulders.
“One of my mother’s dear friends drew them. She passed away years ago, but my mother kept the sketches. They reminded her of a time when…” His voice roughened. “When there was happiness here at Hampton. I asked my mother if I might take a few of them and put them in the lodge. It was a place of refuge for me and the art seemed to fit.”
Ivy’s tongue felt thick and no words escaped her as she stared wordlessly at the art. The cruel loss of her mother seemed to resurrect itself at the worst possible moments. She desperately wanted to tell Leo who she was, to confess to the charade his mother had created, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned to face him, their breath shared in the small space between their faces. Last night she had convinced herself she wouldn’t go this far, wouldn’t betray her heart. Yet, denying it what it wanted was somehow crueler. To never know his love would be a worse fate than to know it and lose it. She had one chance to be with him before she forced herself to let him go.
“W-would you kiss me? Like you did before?”
He curled one finger under her chin, lifting her face as he studied her.
“I would do anything you asked.” The words were a promise of something more, something she could not fully understand, but it did devastating things to her heart.
