discussion of famous literary texts, perhaps? If I recall, Miss Beecham had one such text in her possession the other day. Perhaps she could offer up the name of the volume for our discussion.”
“Well, Miss Beecham? What’s the name of this book Lord Wycombe is referring to?” The Countess turned toward her hostess a look of curiosity on her aging features. With her eyebrows arching upward, the old woman waited for Ivy to respond. Under the Countess’s inquisitive, bird-like gaze, Ivy was clearly disconcerted.
“I… Forgive me, my lady, but I don’t recall the name of the book.”
“Don’t recall the name of the book.” The older woman scoffed. “Poppycock, you’ve never forgotten the title of a book since I’ve known you.”
“Something to do with flowers, wasn’t it, Miss Beecham?” Simon said in a helpful manner. The moment he spoke, Ivy’s cheeks flushed bright with pink. She shot him a furious glare before returning her attention to the tall lady in front of her.
“For the life of me, Lady Effington, I’ve completely forgotten the book’s title.”
“Perhaps you’re flustered by the company you’re keeping.” The noblewoman arched an eyebrow at Ivy then deliberately looked at Simon. Avoiding the old lady’s gaze, he suppressed a grin as he saw Ivy’s cheeks deepen to an even lovelier hue. She cast him a quick glance as she shook her head.
“It would require someone of importance to cause forgetfulness on my part, and I’ve not met anyone of any significance lately,” Ivy said with a smile of satisfaction as she gave him a pointed look. “I confess my hostess duties have been most distracting for the past week.”
“Of course, that must be the reason you’ve forgotten the title of the book, my dear Miss Beecham. I know how exhausting these social events can be to plan.” Lady Effington’s voice held more than a trace of amusement, and Ivy’s smile faltered slightly before she regained her composure.
“If you’ll excuse me, I should ensure that supper is on schedule. I’m certain Lord Wycombe will prove adequate company this evening, my lady.”
Not waiting for a response, Ivy moved away from them with a quiet rustle of silk. Her back was straight as she walked away, and he knew she was furious with him at the way he’d teased her. A raspy chuckle echoed from the woman next to him. He turned his head and met the woman’s amused gaze.
“That woman, my boy, will lead you a merry dance.”
“I have no doubt of that. But I’m confident it will a pleasurable one,” he said with a smile.
Lady Effington laughed again, her fan tapping playfully against his arm as she sent him a broad wink. The woman was right. Seducing Ivy was one thing, taming her was going to be an altogether different matter.
Chapter 7
Ivy kept her gaze fixed rigidly on scenery outside her carriage window as a crisp silence filled the vehicle’s interior. Lady Effington had been relentless at supper with her efforts to get Ivy to confess the name of the book she’d been reading. She closed her eyes in self-disgust. What in heaven’s name had made her think pairing Simon with Lady Effington was a good idea? She gave a small start of surprise as she realized Lord Wycombe had suddenly become Simon in her head.
“You’re angry with me.” The amusement in Simon’s voice infuriated her. With a hiss of fury, she jerked her gaze away from the window to glare at him.
“And why shouldn’t I be? Lady Effington hounded me all through supper about that blasted book. I’m certain she knows it’s something thoroughly wicked.”
Before she could protest, Simon quickly changed seats to sit beside her. The moment he was next to her, Ivy’s chest tightened until it became difficult to breathe. The faint aroma of sandalwood drifted beneath her nose, and as much as she tried to ignore the scent of him, his nearness made it impossible to do so. She jumped again as his fingers trailed along
“Well, Miss Beecham? What’s the name of this book Lord Wycombe is referring to?” The Countess turned toward her hostess a look of curiosity on her aging features. With her eyebrows arching upward, the old woman waited for Ivy to respond. Under the Countess’s inquisitive, bird-like gaze, Ivy was clearly disconcerted.
“I… Forgive me, my lady, but I don’t recall the name of the book.”
“Don’t recall the name of the book.” The older woman scoffed. “Poppycock, you’ve never forgotten the title of a book since I’ve known you.”
“Something to do with flowers, wasn’t it, Miss Beecham?” Simon said in a helpful manner. The moment he spoke, Ivy’s cheeks flushed bright with pink. She shot him a furious glare before returning her attention to the tall lady in front of her.
“For the life of me, Lady Effington, I’ve completely forgotten the book’s title.”
“Perhaps you’re flustered by the company you’re keeping.” The noblewoman arched an eyebrow at Ivy then deliberately looked at Simon. Avoiding the old lady’s gaze, he suppressed a grin as he saw Ivy’s cheeks deepen to an even lovelier hue. She cast him a quick glance as she shook her head.
“It would require someone of importance to cause forgetfulness on my part, and I’ve not met anyone of any significance lately,” Ivy said with a smile of satisfaction as she gave him a pointed look. “I confess my hostess duties have been most distracting for the past week.”
“Of course, that must be the reason you’ve forgotten the title of the book, my dear Miss Beecham. I know how exhausting these social events can be to plan.” Lady Effington’s voice held more than a trace of amusement, and Ivy’s smile faltered slightly before she regained her composure.
“If you’ll excuse me, I should ensure that supper is on schedule. I’m certain Lord Wycombe will prove adequate company this evening, my lady.”
Not waiting for a response, Ivy moved away from them with a quiet rustle of silk. Her back was straight as she walked away, and he knew she was furious with him at the way he’d teased her. A raspy chuckle echoed from the woman next to him. He turned his head and met the woman’s amused gaze.
“That woman, my boy, will lead you a merry dance.”
“I have no doubt of that. But I’m confident it will a pleasurable one,” he said with a smile.
Lady Effington laughed again, her fan tapping playfully against his arm as she sent him a broad wink. The woman was right. Seducing Ivy was one thing, taming her was going to be an altogether different matter.
Chapter 7
Ivy kept her gaze fixed rigidly on scenery outside her carriage window as a crisp silence filled the vehicle’s interior. Lady Effington had been relentless at supper with her efforts to get Ivy to confess the name of the book she’d been reading. She closed her eyes in self-disgust. What in heaven’s name had made her think pairing Simon with Lady Effington was a good idea? She gave a small start of surprise as she realized Lord Wycombe had suddenly become Simon in her head.
“You’re angry with me.” The amusement in Simon’s voice infuriated her. With a hiss of fury, she jerked her gaze away from the window to glare at him.
“And why shouldn’t I be? Lady Effington hounded me all through supper about that blasted book. I’m certain she knows it’s something thoroughly wicked.”
Before she could protest, Simon quickly changed seats to sit beside her. The moment he was next to her, Ivy’s chest tightened until it became difficult to breathe. The faint aroma of sandalwood drifted beneath her nose, and as much as she tried to ignore the scent of him, his nearness made it impossible to do so. She jumped again as his fingers trailed along
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