THE DEFIANT LADY (17 page)

“Not as stunning as you,” he responded, as he peered into her eyes.

Her cheeks flamed under his intense gaze. Their tender moment dissolved as they heard voices in the hallway. Ivy watched footmen carrying dress boxes past the open door and up the stairs.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Cy said to the Duchess and Willow who came into the library. “Productive outing?”

Willow grinned. “Very.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some things to see to before the ball tonight. I will come at seven to escort you to the Langleys’.”

When he left, the Duchess asked, “Did you two have a nice visit?”

Ivy nodded and held out her hand to display her ring. “He came to give me this.”

Willow gasped in awe, and the Duchess peered at Ivy’s engagement ring and nodded as she said, “Exquisite.”

“It will go perfectly with the dress you are going to wear to the Langleys’ Ball,” Willow said.

“I imagine it will go well with every dress you own,” the Duchess remarked with a laugh.

Ivy’s grin stretched from ear to ear. It was going to be a wonderful night.

***

Cy walked into White’s, planning to meet the Count of Langley and his cousin, Lieutenant Beaufort, for a few hours before the ball. He saw two other likable men in his circle and said, “Good afternoon, Hargrove, Essex. Would you care to join Langley, Beaufort and me for a few rounds of cards?”

Essex fingered his cravat and said, “So sorry old boy, but I am afraid we were about to leave.” They got up quickly and scampered out the door.

Cy’s brow furrowed in confusion. News of the duel had finally died down, and Cy wondered what could have caused the two men to run away from him like he had an incurable, catching disease.

He found Langley and Beaufort in the corner enjoying a quiet afternoon brandy. “I just tried to invite Essex and Hargrove over for a few hands of cards, and they could not leave my company fast enough.”

Langley and Beaufort exchanged a look.

“Is there something I should know?”

Langley sighed and said, “May I speak frankly in front of Beaufort?”

“Of course.”

“Word got out about your father’s debt.”

Cy cursed.

Beaufort cleared his throat. “It seems people think you are living entirely on credit, and that you do not have any means to pay off his debt.”

“That was never true. I could have liquidated everything I own to pay the debt, but then been left with nothing,” Cy explained. “When I became engaged to Ivy, the debt was forgiven.”

Beaufort leaned back in his chair and thought a moment. “And now there is no refuting the rumor without telling the world the intimate details of your situation?”

Cy grimaced. “Not without Ivy finding out that I originally planned to marry her to rid myself of a long-standing family debt. It would destroy our relationship, not to mention Ivy’s fledgling relationship with her grandmother.”

“Who could have known about the debt aside from the Duchess of Cavehill and Langley? Did Fitzgerald know?” Beaufort asked.

Cy nodded. “We had discussed the situation in great detail. He knew I was no spendthrift. I was going to use his daughter’s dowry to pay the debt. My business investments are turning a profit. It would only be a matter of time before my former wealth was restored.”

“Do you think it was Fitzgerald himself that told?” Langley queried.

Cy shook his head. “Fitzgerald assured me of his discretion, and when I told him about the Duchess’s offer, he agreed it would be best to dissolve the engagement with his daughter.”

“Do you think he explained to Miss Fitzgerald why the engagement was called off?” Beaufort inquired.

“I do not think so, since it was none of her concern. Honestly, I did not think she cared one way or the other. She never showed me any partiality.”

“Maybe the chit really wanted to marry you,” Langley offered.

“Perhaps, but I still do not think Fitzgerald would be so careless as to entrust information about my personal finances with his young, title-chasing daughter,” Cy said. “And you are correct. I never felt that she cared one way or another about me, but it is possible I was mistaken. It is also possible she was upset about not becoming a countess.”

“Absolutely,” Beaufort remarked cynically.

Cy knew Beaufort had become a bit jaded due to women fawning over him for his potential title. His grandfather was still trying to make him his legal heir, but Beaufort refused to live a life of hypocrisy. He did not want to marry a woman who wanted nothing more than the prestige of what his title would bring her.

“I still think it started with Fitzgerald. If not him, then possibly his daughter,” Langley said.

Cy thought for a moment. “I suppose it is possible, but I really doubt it.”

“We must find out,” Beaufort said.

“Yes,” Cy agreed. “Ivy cannot know about this.”

“You love her, do you not?” Langley asked.

“Yes, I love her,” he replied simply.

Beaufort quirked an eyebrow. “Did you tell her?”

Cy threw his friend a look and replied, “One problem at a time, my friends.”

Chapter XIV

London, England, July of 1815

Cy’s eyes scanned the ballroom, his mind barely registering the splendor of the decorations. Long tables set with food and drink and the whirling couples dancing to a waltz did not distract him from his cause. He was looking for the Duchess in hopes that he might have a few minutes alone to inform her of the situation that had arisen.

Earlier in the afternoon, he had sent a note to the Duchess’s townhouse stating an urgent matter had occurred, and he would be unable to escort them to the ball, but would meet them there.

The gentlemen had come up with a plan. Beaufort was to get close to Miss Fitzgerald, gain her trust and query her for information to find out all that she knew. They were certain she was the culprit, but they did not know how she came about the information.

Langley wanted to tell his wife about the plan thinking they could enlist her help to ensure Ivy did not hear the gossip. Cy was adamant that the less people who knew the entirety of the situation the better.

Cy was not concerned that news of his father’s debt had spread like wildfire. He was, however, worried that Ivy would hear the rumors and wonder about his true motives in marrying her. She was a smart woman, and she would put the pieces together. Realizing it was a lot of trouble to go through to keep her in the dark, he knew the
ton
and how they would react. Ivy would be humiliated and ridiculed, and Cy would not let that happen. Ivy trusted him to take care of her, and he would.

Ivy entered with her grandmother and Willow, and even from a distance her eyes seemed to glow, and they matched the emerald green ball gown she wore. Her molten curls were pinned up, her graceful neck displayed for the entire world to see. It was an instant reminder of what Cy stood to lose, and it propelled him to action. He immediately went to her side, grasped her hand and boldly kissed it. When she smiled, anger twisted in his gut. He loved her, but if she found out the truth, she would doubt his feelings.

“I am sorry I could not escort you this evening. Something came up at the gentlemen’s club.” Though it was true, he hated to lie by omission.

She waved away his excuse. “Do not concern yourself. We are together now.”

Lord Michael Seaton used that moment to ask her for a dance. She looked to Cy; he nodded and watched as she was swept away into Lord Seaton’s arms. Seaton was a good, respectable sort, and Cy did not worry about Ivy learning anything while she danced with him.

A handsome eligible gentleman asked Willow to dance and she was immediately whisked away, leaving Cy alone with the Duchess.

“I must speak with you in private,” he said urgently.

She turned her elegantly coifed head, full of mostly gray hair and said, “By all means.”

He went to Langley’s study, let the Duchess enter before him and closed the door. Without any hesitation he said, “My father’s debt has become public knowledge.”

“Does Ivy know?” Her eyes widened in horror.

Cy shook his head. “I would like her to remain ignorant.”

“She is sure to examine the reason behind your sudden engagement,” the Duchess said. “I agree. It is best she know nothing about it.”

Sighing in relief that he could count on the Duchess, Cy said, “I think I know the perpetrator who spread the information. I am hoping she only knows about the debt and not about the agreement you and I made.”

“She? You think it is a woman?”

“Yes. I think it is Miss Emily Fitzgerald.”

The Duchess scoffed. “The girl is not intelligent enough to pull this off, and much too proper to even consider such a thing. Why do you assume it is her?”

Cy’s gray eyes went cold. “Only Langley, Fitzgerald and you knew of the debt. It was private and unhandled by creditors.”

“What about your solicitor?”

“Crosby has been my solicitor for years and I trust him completely.”

“How do you think Miss Fitzgerald found out? Do you think her father told her so she would understand why you broke the engagement?”

“Damned if I know how. I can live with the truth of my father’s mistakes surfacing in society. I can even contend with acquaintances refusing to associate with me until they realize I am in fact quite solvent. I will
not
have it found out, however, that the reason I became engaged to Ivy was to clear a debt. And I sure as hell do not want Ivy to think the marriage wager was all for show.”

“Wager, you say?” the Duchess asked, perplexed.

Cy smiled in a moment of remembered brevity. “When she came to Fenton Hill to return the mare I gave her, I asked if she played cards, and we made a wager. If she won, I was supposed to stop courting her and find a ‘more worthy female’.”

When the Duchess shot him a devilish look, he held up his hands and said, “Her words, not mine. Anyway, if I were to win, she would have to marry me. She pulled the high card, but I managed to convince her to marry me anyway.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I asked for a chance to prove to her that she would never regret marrying me. I cannot fail in this.” His tone was hard.

“You love my granddaughter.”

Cy’s gaze was bold and unwavering as he admitted, “Yes.”

“I have done right by insisting you two marry,” she claimed. “No doubt people will be gossiping and whispering about the debt, but I will do everything in my power to deflect the news from reaching her ears. If she finds out, what should I tell her as well as the rest of the members of society? What are we circulating as a counter rumor?”

“That the debt has been cleared due to some risky business ventures that paid off. If I had never had the debt in the first place, I would be a very wealthy man now. As it stands, my finances are only modest. For the time being, that is.”

“You are a wealthy man,” the Duchess remarked. “In all the ways that matter.”

Grinning wryly, he replied, “Yes, but I plan on having both kinds of wealth. I wish to shower Ivy with anything she could possibly want. She deserves it.”

“No one will doubt your genuine feelings. You fought a duel for her,” the Duchess pointed out.

“If Ivy finds out the truth, I might have to remind her of that fact.”

***

Lieutenant Beaufort threw back the rest of his champagne, steeling himself to approach Miss Fitzgerald and ask her to dance. He was not nervous, not in the least. He loathed this plan, and he silently cursed Langley and Stanton. He had ignored Willow the moment he entered the ballroom, and when he saw the rejected hurt in her eyes, he turned away. To ensure their plot succeeded, he would have to pretend he had eyes for no one except Miss Fitzgerald, even though his gaze strayed to the tall, beautiful blonde across the room.

He sighed and then advanced towards Lord and Lady Fitzgerald. “Good evening. May I dance with your lovely daughter?” he requested. He glanced down at the young woman whose hazel eyes were lit with warm appreciation.

“Absolutely,” Lord Fitzgerald said with approval.

Beaufort tried not to sneer, hating that Fitzgerald was sizing up his potential. Everyone knew Beaufort was the heir to a title, if he could ever be convinced it was in his best interest.

Taking Emily into his arms, Beaufort spun her toward the dance floor, as if they had both rehearsed it a thousand times.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” Miss Fitzgerald said with a polite smile.

“Thank you. As are you,” Beaufort said. “You are the epitome of what a gentle lady is meant to be.” Beaufort tried not to choke on his obsequious words. “Other women simply do not compare to your elegance.” He made a point to look directly at Ivy when he said it, hoping Miss Fitzgerald would notice.

“Are you referring to Miss Ivy Sinclair?” she assessed.

 
“I am. Have you met her?” Beaufort inquired.

Miss Fitzgerald nodded. “I have. Just recently, in fact. She seems…nice.”

Beaufort chuckled. “Come now. Let us speak as friends. She has an uncommon background, and now she is engaged to the Earl of Stanton. Surely you do not approve, do you?”

“Perhaps the Earl prefers an un-pedigreed redhead as his future wife.”

Beaufort laughed, and Miss Fitzgerald’s face glowed. “You have a sparkling wit. May I ask you something a trifle forward?” Beaufort tried to appear seductive.

Her gaze was open, and curious when she nodded.

“There was some talk a while back that you were about to be the next Countess of Stanton. Was the rumor true?”

Miss Fitzgerald thought for a moment. “It is. The Earl had approached my father for my hand in marriage, but when he discovered the Earl’s debt, he refused to let me marry him,” she said with such sincerity that had she been dancing with anyone other than Beaufort, she would have most assuredly been believed.

Beaufort had his answer. He guessed Miss Fitzgerald masked her true nature behind her beautiful façade. She was a vindictive, manipulative shrew, and she had somehow found out about the debt.
 

Beaufort sighed in mock relief.
 
“Your father is a wise man. Perhaps Miss Sinclair and the Earl deserve each other.”