They really did seem to be close, and it amazed him that his mother had formed an attachment to a young woman after so short an acquaintance. Why had she never mentioned Ivy to him before now? The mystery around Ivy only deepened.
"Leo, dear, come here." His mother beckoned him to take a seat at the table.
Tea was poured, and Leo watched in fascination as the two women gossiped about London, their mutual friends, and a host of other things, mostly intellectual. Ivy seemed to be quite well educated. The desire to insert his own thoughts was strong, but he could see that his mother would not approve of him interrupting their catching up. It only meant he would have to find his lovely guest alone later to speak on the subjects she seemed so knowledgeable about. He'd never met a woman who knew about business and the current economic structure of rising companies, particularly the news industry. Was she echoing her father's sentiments or were these thoughts of her own? Leo was rather curious to find out.
"Ivy, your father sent word via telegram. He's coming down late this afternoon instead of tomorrow. He'll be on the train. I've arranged for our driver to pick him up," the dowager countess explained.
Concern furrowed Ivy's brow. "I fear he will be cross with me. I broke his new motorcar. Lord Hampton was kind enough to rescue me."
"He did?" His mother's eyes lit up with a curious gleam. That spelled trouble for him. No doubt she had some matchmaking scheme afoot.
"Yes, he was quite the hero," Ivy replied.
Leo watched the way her nose crinkled and her eyes sparkled as she laughed. She was teasing him.
"I'm sure any man would have been happy to assist you. I was only fortunate enough to be the first to come along." He swallowed hard, the sudden image of her teasing smile filling his head as though he'd downed a whole bottle of brandy in a matter of minutes.
"Nonsense, Leo. If a lady insists you are heroic, do not correct her," his mother said archly.
"As you say, Mother." His automatic reply made her frown. He ignored it and reached for the plate of crumpets, trying not to think of the pile of papers in his office that needed tending. For the moment, he allowed responsibilities to be pushed down beneath his desire to get to know Ivy better.
"Now, Ivy, have you attended any new suffragette meetings since we last met?"
His mother's seemingly innocent question had him sitting up straighter. After his mother's heated discussion with him, he was afraid she would rally another decent woman to her cause and corrupt her.
"I haven't in the last month. I've been busy, but I will be attending the one in town while I'm here for the party," Ivy replied, and added two sugars to her tea, seemingly completely unconcerned that she was speaking nonsense. So Miss Leighton desired for women to vote? He studied her again. She did not appear to be a wild radical like the women depicted in the papers. Well-bred ladies knew better than to get involved in such nonsense.
Women voting. Ha! He frowned at his mother.
"My son"-his mother directed her comment toward Ivy-"doesn't believe women should vote."
He choked on the crumpet and coughed violently. Tea with his mother was fast becoming a danger to his health. With a little shove, he put the crumpets out of reach and fixed his meddlesome mother with a pointed stare.
"It is not a matter of belief, but truth. Women have not the sense, nor the education to vote. They would simply vote as their husbands, fathers, and brothers would demand. It wouldn't change anything. Any man able to persuade a woman would merely double his own vote, rendering the entire process useless. It is pointless to entertain such a notion." He sat back in his chair, delighted that he'd set the young lady straight on the matter.
"No great change?" Ivy queried softly. Her full lips slid from a smile into a slight frown. The fire burning her ochre-colored eyes was the only warning that he had made a terrible mistake.
///
* * *
Ivy settled her hands into her lap, curling her fingers around her napkin to prevent herself from screaming. Would it be so terrible to upend the entire pot of hot tea over his head? Surely not …
No great change? How could I have ever thought I loved him as a young girl? He's an arrogant fool!
She schooled her features into a polite but icy expression. Very well, if the man meant to go to war, then she was perfectly ready to lay siege to his insipid ideas of a woman's place and role.
"There is no scientific proof that men are stronger intellectually. If women were treated exactly the same as men, given the same opportunities, the same education … and most importantly, the same expectations, both behaviorally and intellectually, then we would not be relegated to a secondary existence."