Chapter 16

The Guard Room of Castle Clairvoir, with its elegant beauty and silent sentinels of armor and weaponry, was the setting for a meeting that held the weight of Ivy’s future. Standing to her right were Juniper and Betony. Somehow, Teague had managed to take the spot on her left.

He seemed quite pleased with himself, too.

The other principal guests of the household would have introductions later, but Their Graces stood waiting as well for the imminent arrival of William, Fanny, and Lord Martin.

Ivy kept twisting her fingers behind her back, hiding the fidgeting yet unable to stop it. She kept glancing at her sisters, making certain they behaved. She didn’t want Fanny criticizing them first thing.

A warm hand covered hers, stilling the twists, and Ivy looked up in surprise at Teague. He raised his eyebrows at her, gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and murmured, “It’ll be over in a trice, darling.”

She wanted to say something especially clever back, but that was when the doors opened, revealing William, Fanny, their four children, and a man Ivy had never seen before.

Ivy’s attention was momentarily torn between the newcomers and Teague. She could feel a sudden tension in his hands, a subtle stiffness belying his usually composed demeanor. It was a reaction she had not expected and told her a great deal—despite his reassurances, the man was nervous. He released her hand an instant later, then the introductions began.

Finally, William stood before her with Lord Martin at his side. William’s voice filled the room, carrying with it a sense of self-satisfaction Ivy knew all too well. “Lady Ivy, my dear sister, allow me to introduce a friend. Lord Martin Alistair Brunsby.”

As their eyes met, Ivy was taken aback by the immediate and unwelcome sense of connection.

“Lady Ivy, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Your brother has told me a great deal about you.” Lord Martin was everything society deemed perfect. His striking looks and confident tone were underscored by an air of genuine warmth radiating from him.

She hadn’t been prepared for him to be pleasant. Rather, she had expected William’s choice for her to look, sound, and have the air of William himself.

Next to her, Teague shifted ever so slightly nearer, a movement most might miss, but to Ivy it was a declaration. It was a reassurance, a silent promise that he was there, truly there, with her.

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Martin,” Ivy managed to reply, her voice betraying none of the turmoil that Lord Martin’s presence had stirred within her.

Teague smoothly entered the conversation with his usual warmth and charm. “Lord Martin, your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard of your ventures in estate management. Fascinating work.”

The compliment, Ivy sensed, was genuine, and Lord Martin’s response a blend of appreciation and modesty. “Thank you, Lord Dunmore. I believe there’s much we can all do to better the lives of those who depend on us. It is a shared goal, I presume?”

The two of them began speaking lightly on the responsibilities of landlords to tenants, a subject Ivy suspected both could go on about for hours, when Fanny finally came close enough to claim a sisterly kiss to the cheek from Ivy and Juniper and Betony.

“My dear sisters-in-law. It is good to see all of you looking so well. Her Grace has taken marvelous care of you,” she said, voice meant to carry through the room. Then, more quietly, “Ivy, you haven’t been wearing your bonnet in the sun, have you? There are more freckles on your nose.”

She turned to Juniper next. “And you, dear. I didn’t know you brought the yellow gown. It makes your skin seem a little sallow, doesn’t it?”

Before she could turn a critical eye on Betony, Ivy stepped forward. “Oh, Fanny, it is lovely that you’re here at last. I have so much I should like to show you. Her Grace has the most excellent saloon, and I think you will find yourself most comfortable spending an afternoon there.”

Betony glowered the instant Fanny’s attention returned to Ivy, but she smiled in the genteel way Fanny preferred.

“Yes, of course. I am thrilled at the prospect of touring the house at the earliest opportunity.” Fanny fluttered a hand toward the children, whose governess and nursemaid had arrived to shepherd them to the nursery. “As soon as everyone is settled.”

The duchess returned, graciously offering to show Fanny to her room. “You must be exhausted from travel, Lady Haverford. The journey from London always leaves me a little out of sorts until I have had a nap.”

Fanny simpered and put a hand to her temple, quite delicately. “Oh, yes. That would be ever so helpful in restoring my constitution.”

Ivy refrained from rolling her eyes, but barely. Then she realized Teague was speaking with her brother, William. The Irishman appeared quite relaxed, but William was frowning and his gaze darted toward her. He motioned with his hand, beckoning her.

Oh dear. Teague was not wasting any time, it would seem.

She approached them with a polite smile. “Have you need of me, William?”

“Lord Dunmore has asked for a private conversation with the two of us.” William’s brows furrowed. “Have you a moment?”

That he wouldn’t immediately insist on knowing the subject of said conversation was surprising, but Ivy nodded. “Of course.”

“His Grace said we are permitted to step into his office off the Pre-Guard room.” Teague gestured back the way William and his family had entered. “If that is acceptable to you, Lord Haverford.”

The three of them quietly moved away from the rest of the guests, going to the Speak-A-Word room Ivy had heard much about but hadn’t entered herself. It was well furnished, masculine, with comfortable chairs and a simple décor. It was a room that would certainly inspire directness without being harsh about it.

William glanced about with vague interest before turning to face Ivy and Teague, who stood side by side. “What is this all about, Dunmore? Has my sister done something for which we must make restitution?”

Ivy’s eyes widened. What on earth could William be thinking?

A chuckle escaped Teague. “Not at all. Lady Ivy is a delight.” He looked at her with his usual cheery grin. “So much so that I’ve asked her to marry me.”

The man certainly knew how to get straight to the point.

Ivy darted her gaze to William’s, speaking swiftly as she saw shock widen her half-brother’s eyes. “I said yes. I want to marry Lord Dunmore. As a baron with a place in the House of Lords, you must agree that he’s an excellent match. He also has the means to support me, and he’s agreed to take responsibility for Juniper and Betony, too, if you approve.”

Teague chuckled the moment Ivy paused for breath. “That sums it up nicely.” He tucked his hands behind his back and smiled at William. “I am having my man of business draw up papers and send documents here for you to look over, to prove I am capable of providing for your sister, as well as a draft of a potential marriage settlement.”

William looked between them, brow furrowed. “I hadn’t any notion of this. Ivy, you have not said a word in your letters.”

“It all happened rather suddenly,” she admitted with a little shrug.

He looked at Teague. “But you’re an Irishman.”

Teague’s grin broadened. Of course it would. “Through and through, I’m afraid. But, as you know, my sister is the future Duchess of Mountfort. She’s Irish, too.”

With a heavy sigh, William clasped his hands behind his back and regarded Ivy with a stern gaze. “What of Lord Martin? He has come to see if you are a match for him.”

“I did not know about Lord Martin until after I had agreed to an engagement with Lord Dunmore,” Ivy pointed out. “He will have to manage his disappointment.”

“Or—” Teague raised a finger to speak “—as I suggested to Lady Ivy yesterday, we can continue this engagement informally, with the knowledge that it isn’t set in stone until the paperwork is complete. If she finds Lord Martin a better candidate, I wouldn’t dream of preventing her from making a more desirable match.”

Ivy had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from scowling at him again. “Do you want out of your agreement?” she asked, voice sharper than it ought to have been. Especially in front of William, who gave her a startled glance. “You have brought it up twice now.”

He chuckled, eyes on her. “Trying to be a gentleman, darling.”

“It sounds as though we ought to proceed with negotiations, if both of you have already agreed,” William said with ill-concealed confusion. “Though I appreciate the acknowledgement that there is still time and opportunity to make changes. Still. I believe my sister ought to be a woman of her word.” His chest puffed out. “There is no harm in Lord Martin coming to know her or the other girls.”

After William’s statement and the group’s tentative agreement on how to proceed, the tension in Ivy’s chest constricted. Her thoughts raced as she evaluated her brother’s words, Teague’s offer of an open-ended engagement, and the unwelcome yet undeniable intrigue Lord Martin presented. The conflict within her was as sharp as the swords displayed on the Guard Room’s walls.

“Thank you, William,” Ivy finally said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. “I appreciate your thoughtful support.” She stole a glance at Teague, seeking some sign of his true feelings behind his gentlemanly actions. His smile was supportive, yet there was a depth in his eyes she hadn’t noticed before, an underlying seriousness.

Teague caught her look and his smile wavered for a moment. “Lady Ivy,” he began, his tone shifting to something more solemn. “I meant what I said. Your happiness is paramount. If, in the end, Lord Martin or any other situation seems a better path for you...”

Ivy couldn’t hide her surprise at the earnestness in his voice. “Lord Dunmore,” she interrupted, her decision to defend their bond made on the spot. “I agreed to marry you, not because you were the most convenient option at the time, but because...because I believe we could be truly good for each other.” She ignored the surprised look from William and the slight softening in Teague’s expression.

William cleared his throat, his discomfort with the sudden intimacy of the conversation quite apparent. “Well, then. It seems we have much to discuss and prepare for.” He glanced at Teague. “I shall await the details from your man of business.”

When they exited the Speak-A-Word room, Ivy felt the weight of the moment settle on her shoulders. Teague offered her a small reassuring nod as they parted ways a moment later, a silent promise of conversations to come.

Ivy found herself blessedly alone, her steps leading her towards the castle’s gardens, a place of solace amidst the turmoil.

The sunshine and clear air of the afternoon was a balm to her frayed nerves. Ivy wandered the pathways closest to the castle, her thoughts a tangled mess. The possibility of Lord Martin being a better match gnawed at her, a question of what if she hadn’t wanted to consider. Teague seemed determined that she do so, with full sincerity in his voice, despite their conversation and the kiss from the day before.

“Why must this feel so complicated?” she whispered to the bobbing blossoms of a rosebush. She had agreed to marry Teague, moved by instinct and the stirrings of a deeper interest. The prospect of stepping back to evaluate other options, even with Teague’s blessing, felt like a betrayal of her own good sense.

As she reached a marble bench tucked away beneath a blossoming tree, Ivy sat, allowing the quiet of the gardens to envelop her. She watched the flowers bob in the breeze, their soft pinks and yellows making her wonder what they’d look like in different hues. In blues and greens, through lenses of different colors. What lens ought she to look through to make the best choice for herself? For her life? The one her brother offered, or the one she already held?

The thought of exploring a connection with Lord Martin, or anyone else, stirred a sense of loyalty to a possible future with Teague Frost. A strange thing, given the brevity of their acquaintance, perhaps. But every time Ivy spoke to him, she felt more herself than she had in ages. He did not mind her voicing strange thoughts or strong opinions. In fact, he seemed delighted by everything she said. He valued her words. He liked her younger sisters.

He liked Ivy. And she rather liked him.

“Perhaps,” Ivy mused, gazing at the stars peeking through the foliage, “the real question is not about the better match, but about where my heart will be happiest.”