Mistletoe and Mayhem: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology, page 30
“As an old school friend of Jackson’s I also insist you call me Aunt Bea.”
“Thank you I would be honored.” He sent her aunt tittering again with another smile before turning his eyes on Ivy. “Why are you holding a doll, Miss Redfern?”
Looking down, she found Herbertina in her hands, and mortification had her cheeks turning a fiery red.
“That’s Herbertina, Mr. Haddon. My niece has not been parted from that doll since my nephew gave it to her many years ago,” Aunt Bea said.
“That’s an interesting name.” He came to stand before her to inspect the doll. Was he close enough to whisper what she needed to say?
“My brother wanted her called Herbert, and I wanted Clementina; this was the compromise.” Ivy walked around him and put the doll on the table. “She needs attention, and my aunt will take care of that. In fact, she is in constant need of repair.”
Shut up, you silly woman, he has no wish to hear about your doll.
“I shall see why the tea is taking so long.” Before Ivy could stop her, Aunt Bea had left the room, but thankfully not closed the door behind her.
“You did not receive my note, Mr. Haddon?”
He moved to her side, so close she could smell the outside on him. A cool, crisp day awaited her beyond the doorstep.
“I did not. What did it say?”
“That I no longer need your help, as the matter is resolving itself.” Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either.
His eyes studied hers, and it took all of Ivy’s skill to keep hers steady. She’d never been a good liar, but she would need to be now.
“Has Jackson returned?”
“No, but I believe he will shortly. So there is no need for you to concern yourself further, Mr. Haddon. Thank you for your kindness. I shall see you out.”
“The thing about telling a convincing lie, Miss Redfern, is that you need to keep your eyes steady. Yours just lowered to my feet.”
Chapter Six
“I beg your pardon, but I am not lying.”
“That was also a lie,” Rory said, watching the color in her face darken.
He’d woken early, and his first thought had been for this woman, which was odd for Rory, as his first thought was usually how soon he could eat. He’d washed, dressed, and eaten, and the entire time he’d wondered what Miss Redfern was up to.
Her actions had made him uneasy. She’d entered Bastil’s, and he had no doubt she was capable of doing something equally as foolish. He’d left the house early, deciding to pay her a call.
He’d said last night he would, but perhaps he’d arrived earlier than was polite. The aunt didn’t seem too worried about that. Miss Redfern, however, was not happy at all.
“Now, how about we try this again? Why is it you no longer need my assistance in locating your brother, when last night you were quite desperate I do so?”
“I have told you why.”
He wondered if she knew she was backing away from him. When he’d walked in, she’d been clutching that doll and looking nervous. Wearing a simple day dress, she had a thick blue shawl around her shoulders, and her hair was in a bun at her nape. She was certainly not dressed to entice a man, and yet something about her disturbed him. He felt it again, that tightness in his chest. Perhaps he’d caught something?
“Considering you told me you don’t lie, you have in fact told two in a very short time. Shall we have truth now?”
“How dare you accuse me of lying! I assure you, I am being completely truthful.” She had backed around the small table that sat in front of the sofa.
“Tea is ready!”
“Saved by an aunt,” he said so only she could hear.
Something had happened since he’d seen her last night. Rory knew she could have received word from Jackson that he was returning home, but then shouldn’t she be happier about it? Her gray eyes were troubled, which told him something else was afoot, and he believed it was to do with her brother. The fact she no longer wanted him involved was a further development that niggled at him. What had changed?
Of course he could just let her do as she wished. Really, she was no concern of his, and yet something stopped him from walking away.
He remembered Jackson telling him his sister cared about everyone and everything to the point that he feared one day she’d storm into trouble and he wouldn’t be there to protect her. It seemed he was right. Entering Bastil’s had been the action of a woman who had no regard for herself but a great deal for her brother.
“How do you take your tea, Mr. Haddon?” Ivy’s aunt asked.
“Just milk, thank you.”
“Ivy takes it with honey, and yet she’s clearly sweet enough.” The aunt gave him a sly smile, then turned to look at her niece, which told him she thought he was here because he found Miss Redfern attractive… which he did, but that was another matter.
“Ivy?” He looked from the aunt to Miss Redfern, who was still standing. In fact, she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, clearly agitated he was still here.
“Arantxa is quite the mouthful for a child, so Jackson chose Ivy, her middle name, and we have called her that ever since.”
“It is a lovely name.” He smiled, but Miss Redfern did not return the gesture. It suited her. There was something sweet about Ivy, and he thought she was definitely that.
“Yes, most adults cannot even pronounce Arantxa clearly, so it was hopeless for a child. Ivy’s father took to calling her Rant, which is not a nice name for anyone, hence Jackson decided on Ivy.”
“Yes, thank you, Aunt Bea, I’m sure Mr. Haddon has no wish to hear more.” Miss Redfern was extremely uncomfortable now.
“Ivy is a lovely name, Miss Redfern,” he said to put her at ease, “as is Arantxa.” He pronounced it perfectly, but only because he’d asked his sister how to do so.
“Oh, well done!” Aunt Bea clapped. “You pronounced that beautifully.”
“Thank you.” He’d always been good with the elderly. They seemed to respond to him, and his brother said that was because he was able to rattle on about a lot of endless drivel for hours. Rory preferred to think it was because he was patient.
“I’ve had Parslip bring a few of those little cakes too. Young men are always hungry. Take Jackson, he is perpetually hollow-legged.”
She didn’t know, he realized. Shooting a look at Miss Redfern—Ivy, as she would now always be to him—he saw the small shake of her head to confirm his suspicions. Ivy was shouldering the burden of finding her brother alone.
“I’ll be pleased when he is back. He’s gone to Scotland, you know, for some odd reason. But Ivy tells me he will return soon.”
They talked, he listened and answered questions, and Ivy sat in what appeared to be silent agony, clearly hoping he didn’t say anything out of place about Jackson. He tried to draw her into the discussion and ease her mind, but she was rigid with tension.
“Ivy studies the stars, you know, Mr. Haddon. She’s written several papers on the matter.”
His eyes went from the aunt to Ivy, who now looked like she was choking on air.
“And have they been published, Miss Redfern?”
She shook her head.
“No indeed. It’s extremely difficult for a woman to get a foothold in something like that. Apparently, we’re all simpletons who should raise children and run households. The fact that we could actually assemble intelligent thoughts on paper is beyond comprehension,” the aunt said.
“Mr. Haddon has no wish to hear this I’m sure, Aunt.”
“Oh, but I do; it is extremely interesting. And may I apologize on behalf of those of us that do understand a woman’s intelligence often outshines a man’s for this shortsighted behavior. Where have you tried to publish your pieces, Miss Redfern?”
“It matters not.”
“Oh, but Ivy, it does. You have long wished to see one of your works in the Stargazers Gazette. Haven’t you tried many times to achieve just that?”
“I have stopped now, Aunt Bea. Now, I’m sure Mr. Haddon would like to get on with his day, so we shall excuse him.”
Clearly she wanted him gone. Rory just wasn’t sure why as yet.
“Thank you for the tea, ladies. It was delightful, as were the cherry cakes. Which I may add are my favorites.” The aunt tittered.
“Parslip!” Ivy yelled, causing her aunt to frown.
“You called, Miss Redfern?”
“Mr. Haddon is leaving.”
He bowed, then left the room gnashing his teeth. She’d neatly outmaneuvered him, and now he wouldn’t have a chance to speak with her as to why she no longer needed his help. He walked along the small path and out to the street, then stopped as a carriage pulled up before the front door. Rory looked left and right, then walked back down the side of the house to wait.
Chapter Seven
Navigating the path to the street from their townhouse, Ivy let herself through the gate and made for the carriage.
Aunt Bea had been displeased over the way she’d spoken to Mr. Haddon, censuring her on the correct conduct for taking tea with a gentleman who was clearly interested in her. Ivy had attempted to explain she did not return that interest, and her aunt’s blunt response had been “Why?” Ivy was still struggling to come up with an answer.
Why indeed? Her heart had definitely thudded a little harder when he’d entered the parlor, but Ivy had told herself that was due to worry for Jackson, not Rory Haddon’s handsome face. Of course that was untrue; he unsettled her greatly.
“Good morning, Miss Redfern.”
“Hello, Timothy.” Ivy nodded to her footman. “Thank you for accompanying me. Please take me to somewhere I can sell a few pieces of jewelry.”
“Very well, Miss Redfern.” She saw the questions in her footman’s eyes.
Ivy needed money if she was to gain her brother’s freedom, and had selected pieces that had no sentimental value to sell. She just hoped Aunt Bea didn’t notice they were missing.
“Allow me.” A large hand reached around her and opened the carriage door before Timothy could.
“Mr. Haddon!” Ivy’s heart nearly leapt from her chest as she looked at him. Where had he come from?
“I have this, thank you,” he said to Timothy. “In you get, Miss Redfern. And we can have the chat while we travel to your intended destination.”
“I have no wish to chat. Good day to you, Mr. Haddon.” Stepping into the carriage, she waited for the door to close. It did, but with him inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Accompanying you.”
“Get out at once!” He seemed to take up a great deal of space in a carriage that until now she’d felt was adequate for three or four people.
“Where is it you are going, Miss Redfern?”
“That is none of your business.”
His dark eyes were locked on hers, unwavering, focused. Ivy looked away.
“Last night, the most important thing in your life was finding and saving your brother. This morning, it is not. Care to tell me why?”
“I overreacted.”
“Jackson said you tended to do that, but in this situation I don’t believe that is the truth. Therefore I have deduced from your unease and the fact you wanted me anywhere but in your home that your errand this morning is concerning your brother. That led me to believe—”
“Get out of my carriage, Mr. Haddon, or I shall call my footman to remove you!”
“Please do so.” He sat back, folding his arms.
Ivy quite literally had no idea what to do next, which never happened. She always had a plan and a mind that adjusted to any situation as it arose.
“Do you know what I think, Miss Redfern?”
She shook her head, as no words were forthcoming.
“That you have received word on how to find your brother but you are to come alone.”
“You can’t know that!” How had he known that?
“I’m devilishly clever, ask anyone.”
“My cook has no idea who you even are.”
“Anyone but your cook.”
“My maid—”
“Anyone who knows me,” he clarified. His eyes were laughing now.
“I—ah, I’m going shopping.” Ivy looked out the window.
“Are you in desperate need of a new bonnet perhaps? A Christmas gift for your sweet aunt?”
“I knew what you were about in there, sweet talking my aunt, Mr. Haddon. You’re one of those men who has to ensure every woman likes him.” Her mind had started working again and decided that perhaps if she annoyed him enough, he would leave,
“That’s very kind of you to say. I like you too.”
“Not me, I don’t like you!”
“You wound me.” He pressed a hand to his chest, looking hurt, yet his eyes still twinkled. “But let me assure you, I was entirely myself with your aunt. I like people, and people like me because I am a likeable character.”
“I believe the term is unctuous,” Ivy snapped.
His eyes narrowed. “I can be polite when required, but if someone crosses me, then my halo slips, I assure you.”
“You are no saint, Mr. Haddon, no matter what your family think of you.”
“Oh, they know my faults, Miss Redfern, I assure you. And now that you have run out of insults, let me just say that a woman of at least thirty summers should have a great deal more sense than you are currently displaying.”
“Are you being deliberately insulting?”
“I am returning the favor.”
“I am two and twenty. Now, leave my carriage.”
“So young? I had not realized.” He leaned closer to her. “That does go some way to explaining your rash decision making.”
“I am never rash!” Ivy only just stopped herself from shrieking.
A dark brow rose. “I’ll just say one word. Bastil’s.”
“Leave my carriage,” Ivy gritted out.
“While it is moving? How heartless of you.”
“When it stops!”
“Tell me where you are going, and don’t lie.”
“I don’t lie.”
“I’ve caught you out telling three in the space of an hour, so clearly you do. Plus, you said ‘I—ah’ before each.”
“I—ah, oh bother.”
“You did approach me last night, Miss Redfern. You asked me to help, and I am not the sort to simply forget that. I am worried for you and your aunt, and also Jackson.”
“Oh, dear.” She pressed her gloves to her eyes, as suddenly they wanted to leak. “Forgive me, I did not sleep well.”
“Which is entirely understandable, considering what you are having to deal with. Especially now I realize you are doing so alone.”
“I just want my brother back, Mr. Haddon.” The desperation she felt was suddenly overwhelming.
“I know. Let me help you to achieve that, Miss Redfern.”
“Very well.” Pulling out the note from her reticule, she thrust it at him. After all, he was clearly not going to give up, and she had to get rid of him somehow.
He took it and read the words slowly. This she knew as it was not a long note. Clearly he was reading and rereading it. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes now had a decidedly frosty glint. Ivy had the ridiculous urge to gulp and slide across the carriage so she could leap from it, no matter that it was moving.
Chapter Eight
Rory looked at the woman inching nervously along her seat. She wore a deep gray coat, the color of the foxes he saw at Greystone. It was buttoned to her chin, and her bonnet matched. Around her neck was wrapped an emerald scarf, the only sign of color on Ivy except for her lips, which were tinged blue because it was bloody icy out here.
“Where are you going, Miss Redfern?”
“Why will you just not leave? This is no concern of yours. I have absolved you of it.”
“And that means I’ll simply walk away and forget you, does it? Forget that note suggesting your brother’s life is in danger and that you are about to plunge recklessly into a situation in the hopes of finding him?”
“Yes.”
“You answered yes to all that?”
“Look, Mr. Haddon, there really is no point in discussing this further. I am going to sell some jewelry, then visit the place I believe my brother is at. Please leave so I can do these things.”
“You cannot be that foolish?”
“It is not being foolish; it is being preemptive.”
“You have given no thought to the danger this could put you in, clearly.” Rory felt ill at the prospect of what she could have walked into.
“Of course I have given it thought! I am not a fool. However, I had no other choice. Don’t you see, I could not risk anything happening to anyone else, so it must be me that does this. I am the only one who can help Jackson.”
“I told you I would help.” He wasn’t sure whether he admired her, or questioned her sanity.
“No. I won’t have you involved. I planned to arrive at Le Plaisir, which is the establishment where I believe my brother is being held, with my footman who will be armed, as am I. My driver also will carry a rifle, and be ready should he be required.”
“Leaving out your questionable decision making for the moment and the terrifying fact you are armed. How have you deduced that your brother is at Le Plaisir?”
“My decisions are not questionable and not something I have come to lightly, Sir. This is my family’s problem and as such it falls on me to deal with it.”
Rory felt sad that she had no one but an elderly aunt to turn to at such a time. He’d always had his brothers.
“We will agree to disagree, now continue with your story.”
“The note stated don’t tell anyone, and as you are… someone, I could not tell you.”
“Have you read no novels, Miss Redfern? The notes always say don’t tell anyone and come alone, but no one ever does. You could have been walking into any dire situation.”
“I don’t read those kinds of novels.”
“Let me guess. You read huge tombs of literary works, stargazing gazettes, or Latin compositions.”
