And there would be more trouble to come, judging by the tension Ivy sensed between the duke and Sir Oliver. Why couldn’t Oliver concede like a gentleman and go on with his life? He couldn’t have fallen truly in love with Ivy during a chance encounter outside a shop.
“Last night?” he said in a voice fraught with such doubt she wondered then whether he was possessed of a madness that made him oblivious to the opinions of others.
James didn’t appear to care. To look at him now, masterful and brimming with arrogance, he showed no sign of vulnerability, and she knew without a doubt that he would fight to keep her.
“Congratulations,” Oliver said with no pleasure in his voice. “I regret I won’t be able to attend the wedding. It’s time for me to meet with my publisher in London.”
“Oh, Oliver.” Lilac rose unsteadily from the low sofa. “Are we going to lose our protector and tenant? Is there nothing we can do to make you stay?”
There was another uncomfortable silence. The duke stared at Sir Oliver in naked dislike. “You have taken lodgings at Fenwick Manor?”
Wendover pushed off from his position at the window. “Why don’t we leave the ladies to take tea while we finish this conversation with Sir Oliver in your study, James?”
Ivy didn’t know whether this was a good idea. She wanted to act as a barricade between James and this man to whom she was now indebted for saving Lilac’s life. Was it too much to hope that this turn of events would even out their association? Could he not make a graceful exit?
In fact, much to her surprise, he did just that. First he bowed. “Ladies,” he said to Lilac and Rosemary, “your hospitality shall linger always in my heart. I regret that you had to witness the horrendous deed I committed in your defense.”
“You aren’t leaving us forever?” Lilac interrupted, having regained her balance. “I’ve come to enjoy the romance of harboring a poet in the gatehouse. And after your heroism today, how can we do without you?”
Ivy stood up, determined to keep James and Oliver apart for as long as she could. “The tea is cold, and I should see to the children. Sit down, Lilac. I shall be right back.”
James turned as she stepped forward and took her in his arms. “Dearest, you should stay with your sisters.”
“The children might be distressed, James. I should see to them.”
“You should stay here,” he said firmly.
“Please,” she whispered.
His mouth grazed her cheek. “Do what you are told. One of the footmen can find the children.”
She could sense Oliver watching them, even though he appeared to stare straight ahead. If she’d thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have feigned a swoon or a case of hysterics. She might fool James with such dramatics. She wouldn’t deceive Rosemary and Lilac, however.
“Be careful,” she whispered, catching the cuff of his sleeve.
He paused impatiently. “I am walking to the study, Ivy. What do you think will befall me on that perilous journey? Will the statue of Heracles come to life and try to snatch my girdle?”
“You aren’t wearing one.”
“I might have been this morning,” James replied. “The physician was attempting to truss me in bed when I woke up.”
She shook her head, about to answer until she realized Oliver was right behind her. She turned as Captain Wendover opened the door.
“These must be your lost cherubs.” Sir Oliver gestured with his beaver hat to the two children huddled together in the hall. “Eavesdropping on us? That isn’t polite, you know. Your governess ought to pay more attention to her duties.”
Ivy slipped out between him and James to confront the children. Sticky red jam coated Walker’s cheeks, and he backed up slowly when she reached for him, content to let Mary suffer the consequences of being caught first.
But Mary didn’t move, didn’t utter a word. She stared up at Sir Oliver, a confused look on her face. “Mistress Mary?” Ivy said, holding out her hand. “Shall we wash up and take tea with my sisters? They’re dying to make your acquaintance.”
“This can wait until we’re out the door,” James said behind her, and at the sound of his clipped voice Mary darted around Ivy and Oliver and threw herself like a heroine in a melodrama at his mercy.
“You aren’t going to die?”
James frowned, holding her away from him. “Fanciful girl,” he said in a tender voice. “Of course not.”
“But I had a dream—”
“Just go into the drawing room and let me introduce you to my sisters,” Ivy said softly. “The footman can bring some damp towels. Don’t touch anything or anyone until you’re clean.”