Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,132

very kind of them.” His voice only shook slightly.

“Are you laughing at my cook and butler?”

“I’m trying not to.”

“It’s very kind of them. I found a book about Troy, and Parslip is reading it to the boy.”

She moved, twisting her body and pressing her bottom into his groin, which had his eyes nearly crossing, until she could look at him.

“I think it’s sweet.”

His eyes settled on her lips. “I think you’re sweet.”

She leaned in, one hand on his chest, and this time it was Ivy who kissed him. Luckily his horse was well behaved, because in seconds he’d dropped the reins, wrapped his arms around her, and was kissing her back.

Her lips weren’t skilled, she was innocent, and he was on fire in the cool air in seconds. Ivy ignited him like no other before her. As he took the kiss deeper, he thought that he really did know now exactly what he wanted to share with Ivy.

“Ivy.” He breathed her name against her lips.

“I need to be honest.”

“All right.” Rory kissed her quickly because he could.

“I like you.”

“That’s welcome news, as I like you also.”

“Very much, Rory.” She eased back, frowning.

“Again I sense a but.”

Their eyes locked

“I didn’t think that would happen to me.”

“That you would like me, or that I would like you?”

“Both.”

“And yet you are immensely likeable,” he teased her.

“According to Mr. Landish, I am odd.”

“Why does Mr. Landish think you’re odd?”

“He said I was one of those devilishly tricky well-read females no man would ever want as a wife.”

“I may have to seek him out on your behalf when we get back to London and explain that his views are wrong,” Rory said. “In fact, many men like well-read females.”

“I told him that he was one of those devilishly dimwitted men whose only contribution to a conversation was how short in the hocks a horse is.”

“How did he take that?” Rory could do nothing to stop his smile. There was just something about Ivy that made him happy… even when he was angry with her. Which made no sense to anyone but him, so he’d keep that thought to himself too.

“His face turned red and he looked like he was close to apoplexy, so I walked away.”

He tried to muffle the laugh, but it came out as a snort.

“So you see, I am not an easy female to manage.” Her eyes were solemn.

“How do you know I am an easy man to manage? Plus, I have no wish to manage you, Ivy.”

“Oh.” She turned away, completely misunderstanding what he’d said.

“I like you as you are, Ivy.”

“Really?” She turned back, smiling.

“Really.”

Her eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder.

“Rory, men!”

From behind them, five men were approaching. Rory could not outrun them, and if he tried, they could be shot. He thought furiously as he pulled his pistol from his boot. What to do? Had they followed them from London, sent by Madam Layla? He looked down at the woman in his arms. They would not get her; he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. Because she may not know yet that this was love, but he did.

“Mr. Haddon!”

“That’s a relief, it’s Lord Trockler,” Ivy said.

“Gentlemen.” Rory turned his horse and waited for them to draw near. Wrapping an arm around Ivy’s waist, he held her close.

“It’s just Lord Trockler, Rory.” Her hand patted his.

There was no “just” about it, Rory thought, looking at the nobleman. He remembered Jackson saying the man had offered his country house to them for Christmas. Could Trockler be under Madam Layla’s control also? He couldn’t discount it.

“You’re squeezing me tight, Rory—”

“Be still,” he whispered in her ear. “I can’t be certain, but it is possible Lord Trockler is close with Madam Layla.”

“Surely not?”

“We need to play along, Ivy, until we are sure. Do you understand me?”

She nodded.

“Do what they say for now, but stay alert.”

“I will.”

“Lord Trockler, how lovely to see you,” Rory said. If they were to play this part well, they needed to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “What has you out here in this weather?”

“My estate is not far from here, Mr. Haddon. We have been checking on the tenants. My grooms are keeping me company. What about you, Miss Redfern? Why are you with Mr. Haddon, alone?”

The man was scared. It was there in his face, all the signs that he was nervous. Rory had no idea where Trockler’s estate was but doubted it was nearby. Things were not adding up, and