Secret Pleasures

by Cheryl Howe

  “Ivy, come dear,” called Lilian. “Look at you. I hear our boy has converted you into a country lass. But what else should I expect from Darien’s betrothed.”

  From another, Ivy would take the comment as a slight. Darien’s sister seemed genuinely pleased that Ivy shared her brother’s residence. Instead of relief, Ivy’s face felt inordinately warm though she hadn’t actually blushed in years. A portion of Ivy’s scandalous reputation had been rumor, but some of it had been based in fact. No matter Ivy’s justifications, she had been a paid mistress, and now, a paid companion, though Darien did not know that. Perhaps Lilian Fitzgerald did. Ivy licked her chapped lips.

  “Mrs. Fitzgerald, you are as beautiful and gracious as your portrait. I regret we did not meet prior to today. Currently, I must look a mess.”

  “I think the country air suits her, don’t you?” Darien wrapped his arm around Ivy, presenting her to his sister, allowing no room to misunderstand their relationship.

  “I prefer it myself, though Ireland’s air is much sweeter.” Lilian opened the carriage door and Darien helped her down. “Of course, my son claims London’s libraries have their own special appeal. I can hardly persuade him to come home anymore.”

  “Well, you made your journey in vain because he’s not here, either.”

  “There’s to be wedding festivities at Westhaven.” Mrs. Fitzgerald handed Darien a crisp envelope. “Or perhaps you haven’t heard. Here is your invitation.” She glanced at Darien’s crumbling stone dwelling. “I see you put on a new roof and cleaned the windows. Very nice.”

  “Ivy’s been furnishing the inside.” Darien patted the edge of the envelope roughly against his palm. “Lilian, how can you so easily go along with our father’s marriage to a girl young enough to be his granddaughter?”

  “May I have the grand tour?” Darien’s sister ignored his question, showing no signs of distress as she glided across the lawn.

  Ivy panicked. How would she explain Melody? Whatever Lilian Fitzgerald’s falling out of the past was with her father, they obviously had made amends, or she would not be forcefully delivering the invitation to Darien.

  “We are not exactly finished. I need to send for a few more things from my estate in Cornwall.” Ivy tried to catch Darien’s gaze. He knew of her need for discretion where Melody was concerned.

  Darien followed his sister, making no apologies for looking like a sheep farmer and smelling worse. Unfortunately, he kept his concentration on his dirty boots so missed Ivy’s attempts to get his attention.

  “How can you even be in the same room with him, Lily?” Darien cut in front of his sister, but instead of violently blocking her entrance, he merely flung open the door to let her in.

  Ivy had no choice but to follow and try to whisk Melody from sight if at all possible.

  “Because our father helped my son with his education, as you well know. And he ensured the girls and I were well cared for while Major Fitzgerald was serving his majesty in the colonies. Mother’s dying wish was for us all to amend our differences. If my husband can attend the dinner tonight, so can you.” Mrs. Fitzgerald marched past Darien.

  Near silence greeted Ivy once she stepped after Darien into the cottage’s front room. She prayed Melody had drifted off and Hannah had laid her abed upstairs. The idea of denying her as her own, even for an instant, disturbed Ivy beyond reason. Ivy had experienced the shock of being discarded by friends she had known all her life. She’d already decided Melody would not endure that kind of rejection, even for a moment.

  “It’s lovely.” Lilian stepped toward Darien and pinched her brother’s cheeks. “Now I can rest in the comfort of father’s house and not fret that you are shivering with a hole in your roof and broken windows.”

  Ivy glanced at the humble furnishings with fresh eyes. A couple of chairs by the fire. A table and chairs by the front window for reading. How silly they must seem. Two adults so desperate to recreate what they’d lost, they played like newlyweds in a stone house on the outskirts of the moor. They could not hide like this forever. As accommodating as Darien’s sister was of their illusion, Ivy would be a fool to expect anything but scorn from the earl’s other houseguests.

  “So you will come to Westhaven tonight?” Lilian cast too blinding a smile at Ivy, as if she had heard her thoughts. “Dinner is at eight.”

  When both she and Darien remained silent, Lilian grabbed each of their hands and guided them to the center of the room.

  “I am so happy to see you two together. I hope this means you can finally make peace with father.”

  Ivy stiffened. She would never forgive that man, much less be in the same room with him without grinding her teeth.

  “That will never happen.” Darien spoke her thoughts aloud.

  “But you are here and you have Ivy. I think it’s time to put the past behind us.”

  “How can you say that when he’s marrying another woman before my mother is cold in the ground?”

  “Mother has been passed well over two years and besides, she is not cold in the ground.” Darien’s sister patted her heart. “She is here.”

  Darien glanced at Ivy. His jaw was tight and she finally guessed he wanted to speak of Robert Fitzgerald, his nephew and Lily’s son, but held himself back. Ivy could only imagine that Robert did not want his mother to know of his relationship with Arianna Maddox.

  “If Ivy chooses to subject herself to such low company, then I shall not refuse to escort her. Especially if it makes my dear sister happy.”

  Ivy was suddenly not sure if she were actually invited. Lily and Darien had entered into some sort of strained stare-down. Perhaps she had only been compensated to keep Darien subdued in his little cottage. After all, every time she entered into polite society, the event ended in disaster.

  “Robert shall be arriving late for dinner, but I know he would enjoy becoming reacquainted with Ivy.” Lily turned to Ivy. “My son mentioned your kindness to him in Cornwall. Being a young reverend in an old fishing community can be rather dreary. He was most grateful for your contributions to his chapel and the furnishing of his parsonage. And I believe he might relish your support this evening, as well.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I would be honored. I just hope the other guests feel the same,” Ivy said, seeing know reason to pretend otherwise with Darien’s sister.

  “How could they not? You brighten any setting you care to grace, my love.” Darien suddenly burst into motion and escorted his sister to the door. “And I expect everyone to toast my engagement.”

  “I shall initiate the toast myself.” Lily waved at Ivy, clearly pleased. “If love is meant to be, it will find a way.”

  Darien hustled his sister out the door and into her waiting carriage. Ivy peeked in the kitchen, but only found her uneaten lunch resting on the table, and no Melody. Darien returned, shut the front door and leaned against it. “I’m not sure if she was talking about us, herself or her son, but I think you should start preparing for dinner. I’m not letting my nephew face that mob alone.”

  Ivy nodded. Who else understood Robert and Arianna’s misery tonight better than she and Darien?

  “I suppose she doesn’t know of her son’s affection for his grandfather’s betrothed?” Ivy headed to the stairs hoping to find Melody asleep in her crib.

  “She knows. Nothing gets past Lily.” Darien strolled across the room and grabbed the staircase’s carved spindles, staring past them like an inmate.

  “I should check on Melody and then prepare for dinner. I’m not sure what gowns I have pressed.” Ivy started up the stairs.

  “Don’t worry. While we stood at the carriage, Hank went around to the kitchen and warned Hannah to take Melody away from the house until my sister left. Ivy, thank you for agreeing to dinner tonight.”

  “I would not desert Robert, either.” Ivy skipped back down the steps, feeling a great need to find and hold her daughter. She was not at all sure she approved of Melody being treated like a dog taken out to
the yard. Ivy really must smuggle Melody out of England as soon as possible.

  “One more thing. I suspect Philip’s killer will be dining with us tonight. Or someone who knows the truth about it. I intend to find answers one way or another.”

  Ivy shook her head. “It should be a lovely evening.”

  I have harbored a secret life for far too long.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ivy sat the furthest from the earl at the long formal dining table. Separated by Darien, a dripping candelabra at least a foot tall plus ten steaming dishes, she could still hear occasional low grumbles from her nemesis. Darien had hardly spoken a word once they’d entered the drawing room to find the only guests were immediate family. Ivy’s tight white gown, sewn with Bavarian crystals, and diamond choker had been an inappropriate choice. She didn’t care. If she were to be ridiculed, she preferred to do it in style. But, since most of tonight’s guests were strained family relations, she’d actually been a welcome distraction.

  “So who has the nerve to drive all the way out to the wilds of Devon to witness this debacle?” Darien downed his third glass of wine and Ivy wished he would have remained silent. A liveried servant in dark-green satin and gold trim that matched the gilded brocade wallpaper, floated to Darien and refilled his glass.

  “Here, here.” Major Randal Fitzgerald, Lily’s husband, lifted his glass for another toast. “Debacle is the only thing to call the myth of blessed matrimony. Can’t say I’d go through with it a second time.”

  Lilian, who sat at the other end of the table across from her father, glared at her husband.

  Major Fitzgerald, Rand, as Ivy had been boisterously instructed to address him, toasted his wife. “I never planned to marry at all and then along came Lilian Blackmore. I was lost forever.”

  Lilian’s tight features only softened slightly. She lifted her squab fork and knife, delicately slicing a nibble of meat from the tiny bird. Lea Fitzgerald, her eldest daughter, who sat to her left and across from Ivy, followed her mother’s every move.

  “Major Fitzgerald, may I suggest you find more polite dinner conversation before the other guests arrive.” Lilian could not hide her smirk at her husband’s feigned shock at the formal address. “There has been enough speculation regarding the Blackmore family over the last decade or so. If at all possible, I hope to quiet those rumors before Lea’s introduction to society.”

  Lea kept her head down and blushed profusely. Ivy guessed the girl to be around sixteen or so, bright blue eyes and a few dozen freckles. Her emerald green cotton gown competed with her vibrant features and only made her seem a bit more childish, certainly not the effect she wanted.

  “That’s exactly what concerns me, my dearest sister. Whom exactly did you invite? You have poor Lea already trussed up like a Christmas goose.” Darien toasted his niece. “Not that you don’t look lovely, Lea. You’re just too young for the hypocrisy you will undoubtedly be subjected to.”

  “I am merely a guest, and as for my nearly adult daughter, the invitation was extended to Lea as well. She chose that particular gown herself, and I agree that she does indeed look lovely.”

  “Here, here.” Ivy smiled and toasted the blushing girl.

  “I hope there shall be some guests my own age,” Lea said in a strong, lyrical voice Ivy had not expected. Darien’s niece had done nothing more than nod at their introduction. “We don’t socialize much at home.”

  “Poor girl will probably be bored out of her mind.” The earl took a swig from a glass that was being filled from a different bottle than the rest of them. “I told Mrs. Maddox she could invite whomever she chose as long as my additions to the guest list were included.” He pointed to Ivy with his fork. “She being one of them.”

  “Will Dr. Shipley be attending?” Darien stared hard at the earl, his question thrown like a dart.

  “You know damn well Dr. Shipley has been our personal physician since your mother took ill.” The earl looked at Darien for the first time that evening. They locked gazes as if they were about to settle their long feud here and now. “The good doctor will indeed be attending the festivities. And I warn you, Darien, don’t harass the poor man about the painful chapter in our past.”

  “Just a reminder, Father,” Lily said stiffly. “She is to be referred to as Miss Templeton, your son’s betrothed, and he, is to be known as Major Fitzgerald. And I beg you not to point at anyone with a fork.”

  “You’re getting more like your mother every day.” The earl swung his grizzled gaze at Lily. “My apologies to Miss Templeton and …” He stopped himself from swinging the fork. Instead, he stabbed a roasted potato from his nearly full plate. “Apologies to the major.”

  The door opened, admitting the butler, identified by his highly polished shoes, crisp white stockings and pressed black evening clothes. “Reverend Fitzgerald has arrived.”

  Robert Fitzgerald strolled in, still ruffled from his travels but healthy and hale. He appeared to have put on a few pounds, and his thick brown hair had been neatly cut. His clothes appeared newly tailored. Ivy had to hold herself back from running to him. Robert had been a true friend during her self-imposed exile in Cornwall.

  “Hello, everyone.” Robert paused and bowed to the earl.

  “Sit.” The earl pointed to the empty chair with his fork. A fierce look to his daughter proved that he would not stop waving his fork at inanimate objects. “We have a feast here.”

  Robert gave his father a curt nod, kissed his sister’s cheek, greeted his mother then came around the table to Ivy.

  “You are a sight from heaven above,” she said near his ear. “Your family is rather intimidating.”

  “I thought you might be glad to see me.”

  He approached Darien and held out his hand but Darien embraced him instead. “Thought I might need a second, nephew? I promised to give up dueling for at least a month.” He tried to grin at Ivy, but the strain on his face never allowed the gesture to reach his troubled eyes.

  “I shall make sure to hold you to your promise.” Robert straightened and nodded toward the earl. “But I will be rather busy performing my first wedding ceremony in the parish cathedral.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Darien still stood, though Robert found his way to his seat on the other side of the table.

  Immediately a servant separated from the wallpaper and began to offer him dishes from the table.

  “I’ve been appointed Bishop of Crediton.” Robert focused on taking heaping helpings of braised beef, oysters and squab. “Who else should perform the ceremony?”

  “We are so grateful for Father’s patronage,” Lily said.

  “You agreed to marry him to a child.” Darien slammed his wine glass down, sloshing claret on the table.

  “She’s not a child.” Robert’s harsh voice cracked and he began to deconstruct a squab with the wrong knife.

  “Very well, a woman you claimed to be—”

  “That’s enough, Darien,” Lily scolded. “We are all finally under the same roof as mother wished. You even have Ivy by your side. Why must you spoil it?”

  Not everyone’s here.” Darien gestured for a servant to take his plate and asked for a glass of Irish whiskey.

  “So, any news from London?” boomed Major Fitzgerald. “You know we enjoy something bawdy.”

  “Nothing political, Robert.” Lily glanced nervously from her father to her husband.

  “Please, Robby.” Lea sat straighter in her chair. “Something about the actresses. Mum promised I might see a play on my first visit to London next year.”

  Ivy usually detested gossip, especially since she had been the brunt of much of it for years. At the moment however, she would be grateful for a distraction. She glanced at Darien who stared into his glass of whiskey.

  “I suppose no one wants to hear what they’re saying about Darien’s announcement at the ball,” Robert said.

  “Please spare us.” Ivy’s comment actually won a grin from Darien.

  “There
better not be too much talk.” The earl’s gruff tone made Ivy stiffen, as it always did. “I paid enough to keep that nonsense out of the papers.”

  “Word of mouth, Grandfather,” Robert teased with a surprising amount of affection. “It was a rather large ball.”

  Silence fell over them once more. Ivy watched the door for dessert but no white-wigged servant saved them. She glanced down at her nearly full plate. No one except Robert and Lea had had much of an appetite that evening. Ivy felt the pull to return to Melody and leave this tension behind her.

  “There is something else,” Robert said suddenly. “Though the story is rather sad, it does involve a famous actress.” He turned to his sister with wide, exaggerated eyes as if he were about to tell her a ghost story.

  “Go on. It can’t be any sadder than all these long faces,” encouraged Lily.

  “Well, it seems the infamous Madam de Rachelle’s nude portrait was spotted in an East End pawn shop. Rumor has it that she—” Robert ended his story abruptly. The earl clutched his glass and his face had turned beet red. His mother glared at Robert. Ivy could only imagine her own expression. Horror. Shock.

  Ivy lowered her face but not before Darien grinned at her and winked. Dear God. Obviously he knew that Diana, Madam de Rachelle, songstress, famous beauty and sought after mistress, had been on retainer to the earl for many years. But he obviously didn’t know what news was coming next.

  “Robert Fitzgerald, we don’t talk about such rubbish at the dinner table. Perhaps there has been some mistake in naming you bishop after all.” Lily fanned her face.

  “I want to hear it,” boomed the earl quite loudly and quite clearly. “Rumor has it….”

  “She’s dead, is all.” Robert shrugged. “Someone paid to have her buried in a Catholic cemetery and now the priest is refusing. He did not realize her—” Robert paused, then cleared his throat before continuing. “—profession. He wants to have her dug up and moved to a pauper cemetery outside of London.”