“That rumour is much easier to deal with, my dear,” he soothed. “I have to travel difficult and possibly dangerous roads into an area that is rife with civil unrest. Were I to take my bride with me, I’d be branded a horrid wretch with little thought for his most precious treasure.”
Her eyebrow rose in a sardonic expression of disbelief. “Really? Is that the best you can do?”
He chuckled. “Honestly, Ivy, if I could see my way clear to taking you with me, I would. But it won’t be an easy trip. And yes, there is a lot of unrest, plus a proliferation of social ills that I’d rather you not see.” He leaned toward her over the syllabub dish. “People are starving. Literally starving. And I know you well enough to understand how hard it would be for you not to help. And right now the problem is too great for just two people.”
Ivy swallowed. “I’d heard about it.”
“Plus, Prudence will return at the end of the week. I’d feel a lot better if I knew you were both here at Hartsmere. It will help matters if we are seen to be acting as is to be expected. I am responding to the unpleasant whispers, and you are here to care for Prudence and Hartsmere House, as the new Duchess.”
“Hmm.” She thought about that.
“In fact, it would be of great benefit if you could continue planning for Prudence’s birthday? That’s not far off now, so anything you can to do appear as if nothing untoward is happening…well that would help a lot.”
Ivy sighed and pushed her plate aside. “I know you’ve a library. I suggest we adjourn and indulge in a brandy. I refuse to leave you alone, I don’t want tea and I think we both need chance to discuss all this comfortably.” She glanced at the servants standing quietly at the far end of the room. “And privately.”
He nodded and stood. “Brandy in the library, if you would,” he told the head footman.
“Yes, your Grace. At once.” He signalled to another man and the process began, amusing Ivy somewhat with the smooth ease and immediacy that appeared in response to the merest request from the lord and master of the house.
She rounded the table and took the arm he held out to her. “Your staff is to be applauded, Maidenbrooke,” she said, trying out the formality of his address. “They’ve also been very kind.”
“I would not expect otherwise,” he approved.
“Colly?” She leaned against his arm. “Don’t be pompous.”
“Shh,” he grinned. “I have to be pompous. The staff expects it.”
Sure enough, a tray holding a decanter of brandy and several glasses awaited them, along with the butler, poised to pour.
“We’ll care for ourselves, thank you, Woodleigh.” The Duke nodded at the lad.
“As you wish, Your Grace.” A rigidly correct half bow followed. “Please ring if you require anything else.” He turned to Ivy and executed another flawless bow. “Your Grace.” After which he departed.
“Goodness,” observed Ivy taking a chair. “It is going to take a bit of getting used to—all this formality…Woodleigh is quite intimidating.”
The Duke shrugged. “He’s been here as long as I can remember. And he’s probably more familiar with the requirements of being a duke than I am. But it is the way of things, Ivy. It’s what’s expected of us.” He poured a liberal amount of the richly deep liquid into a glass and passed it to her.
She eyed it. “You’re anticipating a difficult conversation, I see.”
He took a seat across from her and lifted his glass in a silent toast. “Only if you insist on accompanying me north.”
She acknowledged the gesture with one of her own and sipped, sparing a moment to enjoy the excellent liquor as it eased its way down her throat in a warm river of decadent flavours. “I should insist, Colly. I really should. Since I’m your wife now, I should be at your side, no matter the circumstances.” She sighed.
He watched her, remaining silent, his gaze on her face.
“But…and yes, you knew there was a ‘but’ coming…what you said before, about Prudence and carrying on normally in the eyes of the world. Those things are also correct and I can see the value of both of us behaving as if nothing is amiss.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “Some will wonder that we’re not enjoying a few weeks together in the country or something.”
“At Maiden Shore?”
“Where?”
“My house on the south coast. Lovely place, especially in the summer. We have a beach, and a dock. I don’t sail much, but I always enjoyed a holiday there.”
Distracted, Ivy sat up straight. “You know I’ve never asked about your other properties.”
The Duke smiled. “I know. And in an odd way I find that both charming and satisfying.”
“Why?”
“Because, my sweet, I am encouraged to believe that you wed me not so much for my estate or my assets, but for myself.”
“Well of course I did,” she shot back. Somewhat unwisely.
His expression changed, his eyes narrowing as he stood, put down his glass and held out his hand.
“What? What is it?” She took another quick sip of brandy and then put her glass down, rising to put her hand in his.
“It’s this…”
He pulled her to him, his arms going around her, clasping her firmly against his chest. “We haven’t had our wedding night yet, Ivy. I’d like to believe that we’re about to remedy that situation.”
He put his hand beneath her chin, lifted her face, and then kissed her, softly at first, but then more passionately, encouraging her lips to part and grant his tongue access to hers.
Her breath caught and she willingly welcomed him, finding her arms already locked around his neck and her feet almost off the floor as he held her
