Page 12 of Season of the Scoundrel (The Bridewell Sisters #3)

Ivy had never met a man whose smiles affected her so. When he smiled at her, it was as if half her wits abandoned her.

Was she mad to think this scheme would work? Would anyone believe Blackbourne had chosen her out of all the eligible ladies in London to be his duchess? A wallflower who’d gone unnoticed for two Seasons.

Perhaps it would give them an opportunity to work together more closely on the Penrose investigation without anyone looking askance at their connection.

“I suppose,” she started, meeting his gaze, “we should go in and tell Griffin and Lily our news. I believe he’s prepared for me to be less than cooperative, so this will shock him.

” A bit of worry began to make her stomach twist. “He may not believe this ruse at all. Should we take them into our confidence about the truth?”

“You know them best. Do you think we should?”

Ivy considered how uncomfortable maintaining a lie with her sisters would be. “Perhaps. I’m not certain.”

“Well, if you don’t wish to, I will convince him the betrothal is genuine,” Blackbourne said with utter conviction.

“ We will convince him. I’m prepared to play my part too.” Now she’d at least have a good reason for all the blushing she did whenever Blackbourne was near, or even mentioned by others.

“So let us go speak to them.” He offered her his arm.

Ivy strode toward him and wrapped her arm around his, noting as she had last night that his muscles tensed at her touch.

She nodded at Nell, who immediately stood and opened the drawing room doors.

“Steady,” he told her, seeming to sense her nervousness.

“They’ll be planning to leave for Derbyshire soon,” she whispered to him as they headed to Griffin’s study. “I’m going to ask to remain behind in London.”

“What if I invited all of you to Sussex?”

“To your estate?”

“I think you might like it. Selsbury is quite near the sea,” he added with a glance her way.

It was certainly much closer to London than Derbyshire, but still a significant journey.

“But what of our Penrose investigation?”

“ Our investigation now, is it?” He lowered his voice as they approached the study.

“We are betrothed, aren’t we?” she whispered. “And you seem to have Penrose’s trust.”

“I wouldn’t say his trust,” Blackbourne whispered back, bending so he spoke near her ear. “He’s interested in my funds.”

When she looked up at him, he tucked her arm a bit closer to his side.

“We should remain in London,” Ivy insisted. “At least until we can learn a bit more.”

He worked his jaw as he stared at her. “When will they expect you to return to Derbyshire?”

“In a fortnight.” Ivy laid her other hand on his arm too. “But you could convince Griffin to let me stay behind. I’ll have the whole staff at Edgerton House as chaperones, and I’ll vow to bring Nell along whenever I go out.”

“Let’s get through this first.” With those words, he lifted his hand and rapped at the door of Griffin’s study.

To Ivy’s surprise, Lily opened the door, her gaze full of hope as she took in their linked arms.

“Come join us,” she said and then stood back so that they could enter the spacious, book-lined room.

At that moment, Ivy changed her mind. She couldn’t lie to her sister.

Griffin stood up from a settee at the far end of the room, though when he noticed how close Ivy stood to Blackbourne, he looked more confused than hopeful.

Blackbourne and Griffin exchanged the slightest of nods.

“We have an announcement,” Ivy said. “Blackbourne and I have agreed to say we’ll marry. A false engagement.”

She should have warned Blackbourne.

He shifted, his body tensing, as if she’d stunned him by confessing to them, but Lily knew Ivy better than anyone. She’d know something was amiss, and Lily could never keep the truth from Griffin. It was best to tell them at the start and swear them to secrecy.

Lily’s brows shot up to her hairline. Griffin’s frown deepened.

“A false engagement?” Griffin grumbled. “What nonsense is this, Blackbourne? Is my sister-in-law not worthy of a true engagement?”

“She is entirely worthy,” Blackbourne immediately replied. “But a true engagement is not what she desires.”

Griffin scoffed, looked questioningly at Ivy and then at Lily.

“I think it makes a good deal of sense, my dear,” Lily said.

“Lily—” Griffin blurted.

“They’ve come to this decision together,” she said softly, “and it would forestall any further whispers.”

Griffin flicked his suit coat back and braced his hands on his hips. “So we’re to become a group of conspirators?”

“To throw off the scent of gossipmongers? Absolutely.” She took a step closer to Lily and Griffin.

“Neither of you may believe us, but we did nothing that should merit such drastic measures.” Ivy fixed on Griffin as she said the last bit.

“But with this decision, we may control what’s said about us. ”

“And you have no wish to find a duchess, Blackbourne?” Griffin put to him.

The two men peered at each other a moment in some strange ducal standoff.

“Of course I do. And I shall. But quashing rumors that may tarnish Miss Bridewell’s reputation, or mine, matters most for the time being.”

Griffin seemed to realize he was outnumbered. “Very well. I suppose we get his printed in the papers posthaste.”

“Give me a day to alert my mother,” Blackbourne said. “I’ll have a telegram sent to Sussex.”

“Of course,” Lily told him with a smile. “Will she be told the truth too?”

“I think not.” Blackbourne glanced at Ivy, then added, “As far as I’m concerned, you are the only two who shall know the truth of his arrangement.”

“And Nell,” Ivy whispered.

“And Nell,” Blackbourne agreed.

“I don’t like the notion of lying to the Duchess of Blackbourne.” Griffin cast a look Lily’s way, as if for moral support.

“She’ll be thrilled at the news,” Blackbourne assured him.

“And when she learns it was a contrivance?”

“She won’t,” Ivy put in. “We will end the engagement amicably and as quietly as possible.”

“Then it’s all settled.” Lily came forward and reached for Ivy’s hand. She looked as pleased as if Ivy had truly agreed to marry a duke.

“Lily…” Griffin started. Clearly, he was still not entirely pleased with the plan.

She tipped a look back at him. “Let’s talk about it later,” she told him.

He frowned, but Lily turned a beaming smile back at Ivy and then Blackbourne.

“I suppose you can no longer decline our invitations, Your Grace,” she said teasingly.

“I shall look forward to your next invitation.”

Blackbourne turned to leave the study, and Ivy followed him out, then led him toward the front hall.

“There’s something I forgot,” he said to her quietly, looking behind her as if to be certain no one observed them.

For a breathless moment, Ivy thought he might kiss her. His eyes held hers so intently and then flicked down to her lips.

“You must have a ring, Miss Bridewell.” He took her left hand in a gentle hold, never lowering his gaze from hers, then slid a ring onto her finger.

The metal was cool against her skin, and she glanced down to find a faceted oval emerald surrounded by diamonds sparking like crackling flames in the gaslight.

“Good grief, Blackbourne, it’s too much,” she said, her voice suddenly full of emotion. “And you must call me Ivy now.”

“Then you must call me Ross.” He still held her hand and stroked her fingers. “And you must have this one. Otherwise, my mother won’t believe our engagement is genuine.”

The of it being genuine flashed in her mind. What if a man like Blackbourne chose her? What if his feelings for her made how ill-fitted to be a duchess irrelevant?

She pushed the thoughts away. They were silly and fantastical, and it wasn’t like her to give into fancies like something out of the romantic novels her sisters favored.

“I’ll be careful with it until I return it to you. I promise,” she told him.

He smiled at that—one of those warm, magnetic, wits-scattering smiles.

Not until that very second did Ivy truly recognize the danger in their plan.

They would feign being enamored with one another, and yet what happened if she truly lost her heart?