Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,131

for all of us to travel in that carriage, as you very well know.” Ivy stomped her feet to keep them warm.

Snow touched the brim of Rory’s hat, and his collars were raised. Cold tinged his face with color, and Ivy felt the funny feeling in her belly again just looking at him. Large and vital, she thought, and extremely disturbing.

“I really won’t fit, Rory,” she said again.

His eyes went from her to the carriage. He then went to investigate himself, clearly not believing her.

“I did tell you I wouldn’t,” Ivy said, joining him in the doorway. Her aunt was pressed to Jackson on one side, and the other was squashed with servants.

“One of the servants can wait, and you can go,” Rory said.

“That’s hardly fair. No, I will stay with Timothy while you find someone to fix the wheel.”

“It’s not about being fair, Ivy.”

“I will not leave any of our servants here in the cold. Melanie has a sniffle anyway, and Lilly is my aunt’s maid and her age. Peter is—”

“I’m sure I could strap you to the roof.” Rory cut off her words.

“Extremely amusing.”

“I will ensure Ivy stays safe, and she has Timothy here also,” he said to Jackson. Before her brother could reply, Rory had closed the door and stepped back, taking Ivy with him.

Rory waved the driver to navigate around their carriage, then looked up. “The snow is getting heavier. I will take you up with me on my horse, and we shall follow. Timothy will have to stay with the carriage and horses. And before you open your mouth to argue, the answer is no. I won’t leave you here on the road unprotected.”

“I’m not sure that is proper.”

“And staying here with three men is?”

Ivy snapped her teeth together.

After ensuring the driver, Timothy, and the horses would be all right, she followed Rory to his horse.

“Will your horse mind?”

“Carrying you?” Rory took her hand and led her closer.

“Yes.”

“No, he likes pretty ladies, and you weigh no more than a child or the gun I strap to my saddle, so the strain will not be onerous.”

She could do nothing to stop the small shriek as he threw her up on top of the horse.

“A little warning, please.”

“Move forward.”

“I will sit behind you.” Ivy shuffled back.

He sighed, looking up at her.

“What?” Ivy quite liked this vantage point, looking down at him.

“Can you not just say, ‘yes, Rory’? Just once.”

“No, Rory. What if someone sees us?”

“Who will be out on such a day? Now move forward.” She did, and he climbed up behind her, and suddenly she was surrounded by him, his big body seeming to wrap around her, leaving Ivy with a very uncomfortable feeling deep in her belly.

Chapter Fifteen

He enjoyed holding her, knowing she was in his arms. She sat before him watching the road dappled in snow, pressed to his chest as the minutes ticked over and Rory thought he could keep walking for hours like this.

“Rory, how will this all end?”

“The threats?”

She nodded, her bonnet touching his chin.

“We have to find people who are not under that woman’s thrall to ensure she is tried without bias. That is, if we can take matters that far.”

“But why am I threatened and not just Jackson?”

He’d thought about that as he rode beside the carriage. Remembered Madam Layla’s threats where Ivy was concerned. For now he would not frighten her with all the details.

“You know that she mentioned your family.”

“Yes. But now we have Jackson back, surely he is the only target, as he can testify against her.”

“Perhaps she sees removing any Redfern will stop us wanting to go after her? And it’s likely she would have extorted money and an assurance to drop all charges for your return.”

“I don’t like that woman, Rory. She must be stopped before she hurts anyone else. The only good thing to come out of that entire horrid event is that Troy is so much happier, and he has only been in our household a few days.”

“Yes, she must be stopped. Who is Troy, Ivy?”

“The boy who left Le Plaisir with us.”

“I thought he was Roy now?”

“Parslip thought Troy more fitting.”

“Why?”

“I believe the city of Troy is now where the boy’s ancestors originate from.”

“And I ask again. Why?”

“Parslip said that Troy had no memory of his parents, or siblings, or anyone in his life, so he made a past for him. He and our cook, Mrs. Boodle, thought it was befitting a boy who had already suffered through too much.”

“That was