Ivy tilted her head to one side. “I never really considered that, but I suppose you’re right. Very well.” She smiled. “Colly it is. And you’ve been calling me Ivy quite comfortably for most of this discussion, so let’s continue as we go on.”
“Agreed. So when can we visit your grandmother?”
Ivy dropped her head and sighed.
Chapter Seven
The Duke sat quite comfortably in his carriage, enjoying the spring scenery as it passed the windows. They were making their way to Siddington Castle, exactly as he had planned. It had taken several days to arrange matters, during which time he’d enjoyed some brief excursions with his bride-to-be, and made sure the appropriate brief announcement had been entered into the public record via the Times despite the fact he’d yet to obtain formal permission for the wedding. He felt confident that there wouldn’t be a problem accomplishing that task, arrogant though it sounded, even to his own ears.
A drive in the park along with Prudence, a trip to Hatchard’s…escorted by Ivy’s maid…and tea at Davenport House. All very proper and conducted in exactly the way Society would expect from a Duke upon his announced engagement. Although the comments and observations had been a little more intense, given the circumstances. But these outings had also given them both chance to let it be known they were headed for Siddington Castle shortly, for a brief visit. And at last they were on their way.
His future wife wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as himself about this whole trip, but his arguments had been straightforward and he knew her to be a woman of good sense and logic. He had decided, in fact, that she would make an excellent Duchess, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually tell her that yet. He would bide his time.
“I still think this is a mere tempest in a teacup, your Grace, and I’m sure Elvina would agree with me.”
He frowned. “Colly, please. I’m going to get rather annoyed if you continue to use my title.” He glanced at her. “We are engaged, you know.”
Elvina Ashrayn, who sat across from Ivy as was proper, bit her lip. “I believe Ivy is well aware of that fact, sir.”
He nodded. “Good. Then please help me persuade her that using my given name will not bring down the wrath of God on her head?”
He got a wry grin in response. “My charge has a somewhat determined attitude, as you may have noticed.”
“Would you say stubborn?”
The older woman rolled her eyes. “If pressed, probably yes.”
“I am here, you know,” Ivy observed. “And I can hear every word you’re saying.”
“In that case, start calling me by my given name and let’s move on to other matters, shall we?”
He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but for some reason he needed to hear Ivy speak to him on another level now. No longer should he be “his Grace”. He was her fiancé, dammit.
She sighed loudly. “Very well, Colly.” She shot him a sideways look. “Happy now?”
“Much better.” He grinned. “Of course, in public I suppose I will be Maidenbrooke.”
“Indeed.” She shrugged. “The whole business of titles can get awfully confusing sometimes.”
“As my Duchess you will become used to it,” he said airily.
There was a sort of growling sound, followed by silence.
Elvina broke it. “Do you have family to notify, your Gr—er—sir?” She laughed. “Now I’m not sure what to call you either.”
Pleased at her comment, the Duke smiled back. “It is a bit annoying, isn’t it?” He looked at Ivy’s chaperone. Her smooth skin belied her white hair, and her green eyes rivalled Ivy’s. “Mrs Ashrayn, might I ask, at the risk of being impolite—do you have some Irish in your heritage? I’m sure Ivy’s tired of hearing that question, but the green eyes you both share, not to mention her fiery hair—”
Elvina raised her hand, stemming what could have been a snippy comment from Ivy, who subsided immediately. Ignoring the byplay, she replied to the Duke’s question.
“I do, sir. My family…what’s left of it…still resides in Southern Ireland. I believe there’s an ancient association with the Siddington family; some of our branches crossed a few hundred years ago, but I have no clue in what capacity.” She shrugged. “It’s become tradition for an Ashrayn to serve the Siddingtons. My father was estate manager for Ivy’s grandfather.”
“That’s right, he was,” added Ivy. “I’d forgotten that.”
“You were very young,” said Mrs Ashrayn. “We retain the name, you know. I was married when I was scarcely older than Ivy. But sadly my husband died of a fever. It is the custom for those who ally themselves with the Ashrayns to become Ashrayns in name as well. So my husband became an Ashrayn and I stayed one.”
The Duke watched her, her luminous green eyes strangely compelling, drawing his focus. “An unusual arrangement,” he commented.
“We are an unusual family,” she responded quietly.
For a moment, Maidenbrooke’s vision blurred and he blinked, trapped for a heartbeat in some sort of strange moment filled with vast green hills under a huge moon.
“Er—”
“I believe we’re almost there,” said Ivy, leaning forward a little and looking out of the window. “Oh—look—” She pointed with one hand, putting her other one on the Duke’s sleeve and tugging. “Here’s your first glimpse of Siddington Castle, Colly. It looks quite impressive from this angle—”
Pleased that she’d used his name, the Duke also leaned forward, staring out the window in the direction she indicated. Moving back, she let him move nearer so that he could see better.
Her scent drifted up into his nostrils, a soft flowery mix of roses and Ivy. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the freshness, the unique aroma
