"Please, I insist you call me Leo." He reached for her, and she thrust a hand out, warding him off. If he touched her again, it would only remind her of pleasure, and saying no would be that much harder.
"This was a mistake."
"Mistake?" His lips pursed and his brows lowered over his eyes. "I do not make mistakes, Miss Leighton. We shared something that we both thoroughly enjoyed. Do not deny it."
It was a challenge but she wouldn't rise to it. "We ought never to have done it, regardless of enjoyment. Please, excuse me."
She tried to slide past him but his fingers curled around her arm, dragging her to a halt.
"I'm not finished with you," he threatened, and tried to pull her closer. "You and I will talk. I will not allow you to walk away after what you've said."
A spike of fury lanced through her, and she slapped him. Hard. His hands dropped and she retreated.
"Never threaten me, my lord, with words or otherwise."
His eyes widened. "I would never-" He shook his head angrily. "Make whatever judgments about me you like, but I do not ever hurt women, or force them. I wanted you to explain yourself and not just storm off, which clearly you are about to do."
She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. "I do not have to explain myself to you or anyone." She spun on her heel and left before he could say another word. If she could get far enough away, he might not hear the sound of her heart splintering.
Chapter 8
Dawn was barely teasing the horizon above the old stone Gothic church when Ivy pressed a gloved hand on the waist-high wooden gate to the church's cemetery. It creaked in the morning silence. Somewhere in the distance a thrush called out a warning, but Ivy knew she was alone. She'd left Hampton before dawn to come here unseen. Not even her father knew she was here.
Lifting her skirts with one hand, she navigated a path along the graves. The grass whispered beneath her boots as she passed by each weathered stone. Finally she found the one she'd been looking for. Her mother's name was carved deep into the tombstone beneath the cherubic face of a baby angel with tiny wings peeping out from above its shoulders. She clutched the bouquet of white dahlias to her chest. A deep ache welled up inside her.
"Sixteen years," she breathed. The words so often thought but never spoken trembled on the tip of her tongue. She closed her eyes, but tears still seeped out beneath her lashes.
"I'm so sorry I haven't come back until now. I miss you, Mama. So much." Her throat constricted as the memories she'd locked away broke free. How many nights had she sat on Lady Hampton's bed while her mother dressed the countess for the evening? The three of them would laugh and smile. She could still recall the faint lemony scent that clung to her mother, clean and fresh as she leaned over Ivy, tucking her into bed. Her mother had always taken care of her, loved her. And Ivy had left her here in this cold bit of earth. Alone. For sixteen years.
Ivy sucked in a ragged breath as her chest tightened.
"I wanted to come back, but it hurt too much. Please forgive me." Ivy wiped the back of one hand across her cheeks to brush away tears as she touched the gravestone with the other. Her father would come soon and pay his respects to the woman he had once loved, but Ivy had needed to come by herself to grieve. Her mother had inspired her to be the woman she was today. Watching a bright woman live as a servant in an age that was dying out had driven Ivy to become passionate about women's rights. If she didn't fight for change, then who would? Women had to work together. If that meant sacrificing a husband and children, she would do that. She owed it to her mother and to the generations of women who would come after her.
We deserve better. You deserved better, Mama.
"Not a day passes by that I don't miss you, Mama." She bowed her head. "I love you. Always will." She let go of the cool stone and stepped back. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her fur-lined cloak tight about her body and turned to leave the cemetery.
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Coming back to Hampton was something she had been dreading and longing to do for years. She only wished Leo could have been there to share it with her. She shook her head at the foolish thought. What would he think when she told him who she was? Would he be furious at her deception? Or would he withdraw and turn cold? She supposed it didn't matter; her childhood hopes had vanished. He was going to marry another woman. They were destined for separate lives, but it didn't keep her from wanting him … from loving him.