His friend laughed. "Scheming? Christ, aren't you too old for that to be a threat? What's the worst she could do?"
Leo sighed and nodded discreetly in Ivy's direction. "That is her latest plan. Mother does not count herself among Miss Pepperwirth's admirers and is determined to upset my plan to propose by distracting me with a lovely young woman instead."
Owen's face twisted in an unpleasant grimace. "Lord Pepperwirth's daughter? Good God, man, do you hate yourself? Why tie the knot with such a … " He paused, caught himself, and amended more politely, "She's a lovely lady, I'm sure."
"I know full well Miss Pepperwirth is not ideal. Her temperament is severe, but her father's influence in the House of Lords would be beneficial, and her dowry would keep Hampton well set for the next several generations. I need to consider that above my own desires." He slid his hand into his pocket, rubbing his fingers over the smooth silver of his pocket watch. The little tick of its metal heart beat against the palm of his hand. Time was eternally moving forward, another second lost, another minute wasted. Leo's gaze drifted back to Ivy and the tempting curve of her smile as she hugged her father. Such a warm, affectionate creature. Would she be the same with a lover?
"I never envisioned you as the martyr sort," Owen observed.
It was a statement Leo would have agreed with before his father had died. But in the last year, he had been forced to change as he'd taken the reins of the estate after his father's disgraceful passing.
"You're fortunate you don't have to worry about such things," Leo said.
A footman rushed past them and Owen lowered his voice. "Of course I worry about this, more so than you." His friend's face was suddenly plagued with shadows and his eyes were haunted. "My own estate in the Cotswolds is in utter shambles. Ever since I returned from the war, I've been fighting to get it back on sound footing. I understand how you feel, Leo, I do, but I know you. Marriage to a sharp-tongued harpy won't make you happy. It's liable to drive you mad. I wouldn't risk it, ol' boy."
Leo stared at Owen, shocked. How had he missed that his friend was in such poor circumstances? God, he was a bloody bastard for not knowing his friend was in a worse state than he was.
"Hadley, I'm sorry. I didn't know … "
Owen shrugged but the movement lacked the carefree manner his friend used to have. "It isn't your fault. The debts of our fathers' estates are a burden to us all." He glanced away for a long moment as though trying to hide his worries. Then he turned back to Leo with a forced grin. "So who is the lovely lady caught up in your mother's schemes? Perhaps I'd like to get tangled in that web myself."
It was then that Leo noticed Owen's eyes were fixed on Ivy and the look was a little too appreciative. Owen loosened the collar of his shirt as his gaze ran the length of Ivy's body.
A sudden desire to punch his oldest friend nearly overtook Leo. His fingers curled into a fist and it took every ounce of his willpower to not haul back and strike the other man.
"Will you introduce me?" Owen asked, flashing Leo a wicked grin as though he could read Leo's murderous thoughts. They were of the same height and muscular build. A battle of fisticuffs would be painful, and both of them knew it.
Through gritted teeth, Leo nodded. "An introduction, but nothing more. Try to behave yourself with my guest. She's … " He'd been about to say innocent, not that he could explain why.
She was a stranger. He'd never seen her before until he'd pulled up next to her motorcar and found her glorious legs waving in the air, but he knew she was innocent to the ways of men. The memory of the kiss he'd stolen, the way he'd coaxed her into responding, taught her mouth how to move with his. Such a foolish thing, for him to kiss a woman he had no plan to marry, but he couldn't resist. Not after the way she'd gazed at him as though he could give her the moon and the stars, and he'd had the strangest urge to tap the tip of her adorable nose … it was rather like a half-remembered dream, as though he'd done it a thousand times, yet it felt new.
There was no doubt in his mind that Ivy was crafted by the gods to tempt him. With those almond-shaped eyes fringed by long, sooty lashes and intoxicatingly lush lips … the way she'd dressed him down over the voting issue. He'd loved the verbal sparring. She lacked the acidity Mildred possessed, whose comments always seemed rooted in scorn for everything. He shuddered. Owen was right. Marrying Mildred would be a foolish endeavor on its own, but couple it with doubling Hampton's estate … a man could overlook an ill-tempered shrew of a wife, couldn't he?
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