Secret Pleasures

by Cheryl Howe

  Lily embraced Darien and he felt Philip so close he could be standing right next to him. Ivy had to understand that. She would not desert him twice. This time, he wouldn’t let her.

  ***

  Ivy watched Darien drag himself across the lawn. His head sagged with every step. Dear God, had Robert passed? Ivy clutched Melody’s white linen gown to her chest. She said a short prayer to his departing spirit then quickly folded the tiny garment and placed it in the trunk. The extra time to prepare for the journey had been a blessing and a curse. She had too many opportunities to question her choice. and the man she trusted with her heart, her life. Darien would come with her. She knew he would. He would not desert her twice.

  Melody was sleeping peacefully in her crib, obviously glad to be back home. Ivy wanted to let her rest and tip-toed downstairs to meet Darien. Once she explained to him why they must leave at once, he would see reason. Surely he would not want Melody to grow up in Westhaven’s environment, being forced into a life of someone else’s choosing no matter the gilded mote of security that came with it. Together they could give Melody a life where she was cherished beyond her need to fill in the chairs of the Blackmores’ dead.

  She met Darien before he reached the stairs and threw herself in his arms. He caught her weight and held her tightly against his chest. He buried his face in her loose hair.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Darien’s voice broke and she hugged him tighter.

  “I would not leave without you.”

  He let go of her and stepped away. “Things have changed.”

  Ivy pressed her shaking fingers to her equally trembling lips. “I suppose you spoke with your sister.”

  “She spoke out of turn.” Darien strode toward her, instantly registering her distress. He gripped her shoulders tightly. “I have no intentions of letting my family stand between us being together.”

  Ivy wanted to relax, but the dull brown in his usually reflective gaze gnawed at her.

  “This is about Melody, isn’t it?” She pried his hands from her and took a step back. “I won’t let you trundle her off to Ireland to be raised by your sister.”

  Darien remained quiet, unusually thoughtful. “I did not know of that, but my sister is a good woman. She’s raised three healthy girls. Not to mention Robert, whom we both admire.”

  “Are you mad? You sound like you’re trying to talk yourself into this ludicrous idea as well as me.”

  Ironically, when Ivy had first discovered Melody, she would have thought having Westhaven’s daughter raise Melody as her own a fitting idea. Not now. “How could you deny the bond we both have with her and she with us? She’s already been passed around too freely as it is. She is my daughter, Darien. If you love me as you claim, you will not behave otherwise.”

  “I do love you, Ivy.” Darien paced before her, rubbed his fingers through his hair. Ivy had never seen him so agitated. “That’s all I know. I do not want to lose you.”

  “What’s all this about, Darien? I have a right to know. Just like I had a right to know your father had cut you off if you did not break our engagement. Perhaps then my family would have been less shocked when our creditors came knocking on our door all at once. Maybe if I were prepared, I could have done something differently. We could have done things differently. Answer me.”

  “Philip wasn’t murdered. He killed himself.”

  “What?” Ivy pressed her hand to the stiff paisley satin of her stomacher, stunned and bewildered simultaneously. “I don’t believe it. Philip would never do anything like that. He was too fond of himself.”

  Darien stepped back. A hopeful shadow passed across his face then faded. “I thought the same until my father gave me the letter Philip left me. They found him hanging in the stable and this in his pocket.” Darien pulled out a yellowed envelope with Darien’s name scrawled across the front. He tried to hand it to her.

  Ivy held up her hands too shaken to take it. “What did he say?”

  “Sorry, old chap. Carry on.”

  “What? That doesn’t sound like Philip.”

  Darien put the letter back in his pocket. “That’s my summation from the letter’s beginning. I’m too afraid to find out more. How could I have not known things had been so difficult for him? I would have done anything to help him.”

  Ivy strode to Darien, took his hand. “I know you would have.”

  “And that’s why I must marry Arianna.”

  She tried to pull her hand away but he held it.

  “Listen to me, Ivy. Please. Let me explain. I want nothing more than to be with you, but there is more at stake here. Maddox knows the truth and has sworn to prosecute Philip’s crime. The penalties can not only be carried out against his family, but my brother’s corpse.”

  Ivy saw the pain in his eyes, the desperation. She let him draw her near, hold her tightly and caress her hair. Darien did not have to explain further. Ivy’s mother had had a sister who took her own life. Her mother had related in detail the shame and the sorrow of knowing her sister would never rest in peace. Ivy and her own sister never visited the country house where her mother had grown up the privileged daughter of a prosperous baron. Only in the months before her mother’s death had Ivy discovered why. When Darien relaxed against her, Ivy gripped his arms and set him away from her.

  “Not like this. Let’s sit in the kitchen. I fear whatever you have to say will be impossible to understand while I’m in your arms.”

  “That was my intention.” He smiled a cockeyed grin that had Ivy hoping it might not be that bad. Surely Darien would not succumb to the earl’s pressure without a plan of his own that would turn them all on their ears.

  She returned his smile and led him into the kitchen, pulled out a chair for him to sit, retrieved his favorite Irish whiskey and two crockery mugs. She poured small amounts for both of them, way less than Darien would normally be happy with. Ivy took a bracing sip. Darien did not touch his, which worried her all over again.

  “So you must marry Arianna Maddox,” she said firmly, testing it out on her tongue. “And what of Melody and me?”

  Darien picked up his cup and slugged back the whiskey, then set the cup on the table before he answered. “Maddox was the one who found Philip. He threatened to reveal that Philip hung himself unless the original marriage contract was fulfilled. But he had another motive, something he wishes not to be made public so he has been patient.” Darien refilled his glass. “And accommodating. He is willing to accept Melody as a legitimate child.”

  Ivy blinked, not sure what he meant, not understanding any circumstance where that could be possible.

  “Of Arianna’s. I think the girl will go through with it,” he said in a rush.

  Ivy stood up abruptly, the wooden legs of her chair making a loud screech before it crashed to the stone floor of the kitchen.

  “And what of me?” Ivy hated the selfish tone in her voice and even more to know that a situation such as this would have been a dream come true for Diana, Melody’s real mother. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut against the realization. She abruptly turned and strode to stare out the open back door. The enchanting grove and babbling brook had not altered in the least in the face of the collapse of Ivy’s world.

  Darien came up behind her. Set his hands on her shoulders. She eased against the sheer comfort of his touch.

  He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “I can give you so much. A house in London, a palatial estate in the country. I have been wanting to purchase a larger holding with pastures and structures for breeding. And you will be the focus of everything in my life. I will do what I must to maintain the obligations of the earldom, but you and I will be the ones with the power. Every decision regarding Melody’s future will be yours. You will have the final say in everything from her education to who she marries.”

  Darien’s laugh was strained. “Of course I will have to persuade you to let her choose for herself.” Darien’s breath grew heavy and hot as he kissed the
side of her neck through the veil of her unbound hair.

  Ivy thrust herself into motion, breaking the intoxicating effect of his nearness. She pulled away, then strode into the center of the clearing. A mist from the brook made the air smell of humus and wet green leaves.

  She turned to face him. He stood, bracing his arms against the door jamb, looking at her from pain-filled eyes.

  “I cannot live under those conditions.” She took a deep breath to gather her strength but her throat closed. Her eyes filled with hot tears that rolled down her cheeks. Darien sprinted down the steps. She stretched out her hand to halt his progress. “Don’t come any further. I beg of you.” She choked out another breath. “My plans have not changed. I’m sailing to America.”

  “Not with my daughter, you’re not.”

  She flinched at his harsh tone.

  “It wouldn’t be safe for either of you. Traveling alone. And Melody is just gaining her strength.”

  “The weather is perfect and I’ll have to wait for next summer if I don’t sail now. In a year, I’m sure I won’t be able to leave at all. Melody, of course, should stay with you and Arianna. It’s what her mother would have wanted.”

  Darien balled his fists and breathed heavily through his nose. The old Darien would have blurted out his feeling without pause. His restraint frightened her more than his impulsiveness. He would not abandon his duty to his family or his daughter. Not even for her. Truth be told, she hadn’t for him, and the desecration of a loved one’s grave was not even at stake. At least now, he would understand why she had been forced to break their engagement. Too many innocent people would suffer otherwise.

  “You are the only mother Melody knows,” he said calmly.

  Ivy smiled through her tears. Yes, she was Melody’s mother now and that is why she knew what she must do. Perhaps she could justify another choice if either Darien or Arianna were vain, vapid aristocrats. Unfortunately, that was not the case. They would be wonderful parents to Melody. They would love her, nurture her. Allow her to be anything and everything she chose to be.

  “Melody is too young to know the difference.” Ivy pushed her thoughts away. She could not continue to remain on her feet if she did not. “I’ll just say good-bye to Melody and be on my way,” Ivy said so quickly, she was sure her words were unintelligible. She gathered her skirts and did her best not to look like she was running toward the kitchen door.

  Darien did not bother to turn when she passed him. His head was bent, his hand covering his eyes.

  Ivy climbed the stairs two at a time but paused at the door to calm herself. She did not want Melody’s last memory of Ivy to be miserable. But of course, her temporary daughter wouldn’t remember Ivy at all, which was the beauty of the sacrifice.

  Ivy walked toward the crib as if dragging herself to the gallows. If Ivy knew what was good for her, she would march directly to her bags and out the door. She could use the time to finalize the closing of her house in London while she secured her passage to America. How reasonable.

  But the unreasonable called to her nonetheless.

  Ivy gripped the sides of the crib. Melody slept like a genuine angel, a common sentimentality Ivy had gagged at in the past. She didn’t smell of soiled cloth or soured milk or strange baby smell, but of something sweet and on the verge of full bloom, the best Ivy would ever be. And the best she would ever do. She leaned forward and picked up her daughter. Kissed her cheek. Checked her diaper scented by a lavender and rosemary rinse, a recipe which Ivy had read in one of her beauty books. She must remember to write detailed instructions for Arianna. No need for all that trial and error.

  Ivy hugged Melody to her chest and allowed herself to forget for a brief few moments.

  “How could you leave her?” Darien stood in the doorway. His eyes were red and dry but the unique, deep-set almond shape of them could not hide the fact he’d been crying.

  “Even if I stayed, we could not be acquainted, my darling and I. I would not wish her to know that she should ever be content with a man who would disregard her mother and his wife so carelessly. For her to ever love either of us under those circumstances would be painful as well as confusing.”

  “We are both doing what’s in our daughter’s best interest, though I don’t like it anymore than you. Hopefully someday Melody can understand that. I’m agreeing to marry Arianna not only for Philip, but for Melody. I want her to grow up at Westhaven House, knowing that the stone mansion will always shelter her.”

  “Don’t you see that’s what I want, too?” Ivy battled to keep the tears from her eyes and the pain from her voice.

  Darien came to stand beside Ivy and patted Melody’s back to erase the beginnings of a frown.

  “My father kept a mistress. You knew that. I knew that. Everyone knew that. It’s how it’s done. I don’t think it changed our relationship in the least.”

  Melody smiled at Darien, as though pleased with his answer. Ivy’s heart twisted that she was the element that brought Melody a loving and devoted father.

  “You have a terrible relationship with your father, so that should tell you something.” Ivy stood tall and tried to be brave. “How it’s done is not good enough for our girl. You will have Melody. I will have a new life in America. Your penance is a vow to devote yourself exclusively to her well-being. And for that I will forgive you for what you must do for your family.” Ivy’s calm voice surprised even herself. She would have years to grieve. “Melody’s bags are packed. I suppose it’s time for her to move into her new home.”

  She kissed Melody on the cheek and handed her to Darien.

  “Please, don’t go.” His voice was hoarse with emotion and almost impossible to resist.

  “Please don’t ask me again.” She touched his cheek, but quickly tore her gaze away from the sight of Melody tucked so comfortably in his arms.

  “My father has requested to see Melody. Perhaps you should come along and spit in his eye one last time. Or at least say good-bye to Robert.”

  So he lived. Poor Robert. This turn of events would not be any more welcome to him than it was to her. Not to mention that he fought for his life while they argued about their future.

  “Yes, I must see Robert before I leave.”

  Ivy took Melody from Darien, unable to resist the pleasurable agony. Darien’s father might think he trumped the deck with secrets but she had one of her own yet up her sleeve. It could not save the living but it might just vindicate the dead.

  No doubt Father has already concocted the story of my demise and now must face his horror at having you as his heir.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Death’s sour stench forced Ivy to hover near the closed door while Darien approached his father’s shadowed bed. Perhaps her tiny revenge consisted more of wistful thoughts than a brilliant plan. Melody fussed in her arms but did not cry out. Darien motioned her over and Ivy had no choice but to follow or appear a total coward. One thing she would not do in front of Lord Westhaven was to appear defeated.

  “Where’s the doctor?” Darien asked the withered servant who slumped in a deer-skin chair beside the earl’s bed.

  “Our little Bobby woke up.” The white capped woman struggled to her feet, standing not much taller than her sitting position. “Your father sent Dr. Shipley to attend him.”

  “Thank God.” Darien’s relieved sigh was cut short when he covered his face with his hands. “He’s going to hate me.”

  Ivy juggled Melody who decided to kick free of her blanket. “Perhaps we should go to him and then come back.”

  She glanced at the bed. The earl’s shrunken face peeked from beneath a crisp white stocking cap, his skin gray in comparison. He lay so still that if he didn’t struggle for breath in painful sounding wheezes, Ivy might think him already dead.

  “Oh, dear me. Is that our new little Blackmore? Miss Melody, is it?” The old woman hobbled over to Ivy and strained to glimpse Melody. Ivy leaned forward so the servant could examine Melody through milk-clouded e
yes.

  “I’ve held every Blackmore for the last two generations starting with the earl’s eldest brother, John. Lovely lad. Strong bite, that one. I was a wet nurse then.”

  “Melody seems to only digest sheep’s milk.” Ivy tried to pull away from the boney hand that clutched her arm for support. Not to be unkind but for fear the woman would loosen Ivy’s grip on Melody.

  Darien came to her rescue. “Ivy, this is Agatha.” He gently squeezed her shoulders, gaining Agatha’s full attention. “She’s been with the family for years. Aggie, come sit by the window so you can see Melody better. I think she looks like me.”

  Agatha laughed and let Darien direct her to the window. How could this ancient woman still be working as a servant?

  “I’ve been cleaning the nursery, Master Darien. Scrubbing it good. Airing out all the cribs. Hope we be filling them up now, lad. Making old Aggie wait thirty-five years to hold another baby Blackmore. Shame, that is.”

  Darien took Melody from Ivy’s arms and to her credit, she did not flinch, only resisting for a mere moment. He eased Melody into Agatha’s trembling arms. Agatha’s face lit with the undisguised joy of a child. She rocked Melody gently and hummed a familiar country tune.

  Melody reached for Agatha’s hooked nose. Darien gazed down at the sight with a strange light on his face, an expression she had never seen before. Ivy closed her eyes, her stomach roiling in agony, and strode to the old man’s bedside.

  “He looks a little better.” Darien slipped silently behind her. “His color is coming back a little.”

  Ivy chose to say nothing.

  Darien sighed heavily. He stood so near but did not touch her, where normally he would have slipped his arms around her and pulled her to him. Of course Ivy could easily attribute the slight to the fact that they stood beside his father’s deathbed. But Ivy knew from experience that there would be many more times when she would feel the ghost of Darien behind her and long desperately for his touch.