Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,114

I shall call my footman to remove you!”

“Please do so.” He sat back, folding his arms.

Ivy quite literally had no idea what to do next, which never happened. She always had a plan and a mind that adjusted to any situation as it arose.

“Do you know what I think, Miss Redfern?”

She shook her head, as no words were forthcoming.

“That you have received word on how to find your brother but you are to come alone.”

“You can’t know that!” How had he known that?

“I’m devilishly clever, ask anyone.”

“My cook has no idea who you even are.”

“Anyone but your cook.”

“My maid—”

“Anyone who knows me,” he clarified. His eyes were laughing now.

“I—ah, I’m going shopping.” Ivy looked out the window.

“Are you in desperate need of a new bonnet perhaps? A Christmas gift for your sweet aunt?”

“I knew what you were about in there, sweet talking my aunt, Mr. Haddon. You’re one of those men who has to ensure every woman likes him.” Her mind had started working again and decided that perhaps if she annoyed him enough, he would leave,

“That’s very kind of you to say. I like you too.”

“Not me, I don’t like you!”

“You wound me.” He pressed a hand to his chest, looking hurt, yet his eyes still twinkled. “But let me assure you, I was entirely myself with your aunt. I like people, and people like me because I am a likeable character.”

“I believe the term is unctuous,” Ivy snapped.

His eyes narrowed. “I can be polite when required, but if someone crosses me, then my halo slips, I assure you.”

“You are no saint, Mr. Haddon, no matter what your family think of you.”

“Oh, they know my faults, Miss Redfern, I assure you. And now that you have run out of insults, let me just say that a woman of at least thirty summers should have a great deal more sense than you are currently displaying.”

“Are you being deliberately insulting?”

“I am returning the favor.”

“I am two and twenty. Now, leave my carriage.”

“So young? I had not realized.” He leaned closer to her. “That does go some way to explaining your rash decision making.”

“I am never rash!” Ivy only just stopped herself from shrieking.

A dark brow rose. “I’ll just say one word. Bastil’s.”

“Leave my carriage,” Ivy gritted out.

“While it is moving? How heartless of you.”

“When it stops!”

“Tell me where you are going, and don’t lie.”

“I don’t lie.”

“I’ve caught you out telling three in the space of an hour, so clearly you do. Plus, you said ‘I—ah’ before each.”

“I—ah, oh bother.”

“You did approach me last night, Miss Redfern. You asked me to help, and I am not the sort to simply forget that. I am worried for you and your aunt, and also Jackson.”

“Oh, dear.” She pressed her gloves to her eyes, as suddenly they wanted to leak. “Forgive me, I did not sleep well.”

“Which is entirely understandable, considering what you are having to deal with. Especially now I realize you are doing so alone.”

“I just want my brother back, Mr. Haddon.” The desperation she felt was suddenly overwhelming.

“I know. Let me help you to achieve that, Miss Redfern.”

“Very well.” Pulling out the note from her reticule, she thrust it at him. After all, he was clearly not going to give up, and she had to get rid of him somehow.

He took it and read the words slowly. This she knew as it was not a long note. Clearly he was reading and rereading it. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes now had a decidedly frosty glint. Ivy had the ridiculous urge to gulp and slide across the carriage so she could leap from it, no matter that it was moving.

Chapter Eight

Rory looked at the woman inching nervously along her seat. She wore a deep gray coat, the color of the foxes he saw at Greystone. It was buttoned to her chin, and her bonnet matched. Around her neck was wrapped an emerald scarf, the only sign of color on Ivy except for her lips, which were tinged blue because it was bloody icy out here.

“Where are you going, Miss Redfern?”

“Why will you just not leave? This is no concern of yours. I have absolved you of it.”

“And that means I’ll simply walk away and forget you, does it? Forget that note suggesting your brother’s life is in danger and that you are about to plunge recklessly into a situation in the hopes of finding him?”

“Yes.”

“You answered yes to all that?”

“Look, Mr. Haddon, there really is no point in discussing this further.