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“If I am to be instructing men to follow your wife around, I will deserve it. I do not much mind not being liked by these lot—” He thrust a thumb toward one of the gardeners tending to the hedge lining the garden “—but I have a feeling your wife will have something to say on the matter.”
“Nothing can happen to her.”
Shah’s grin dropped. “This man’s appearance has you all shook up, does it not?”
“The man is dangerous.”
“Then I suggest you explain that to your wife. No woman wants to be followed around every moment.”
“Just make sure someone keeps an eye on her if she’s in the gardens,” he snapped. “That’s an order.”
Shah gave a mocking bow. “Whatever you say, my lord.”
Cillian bit back an irritated grunt as he left the steward to it. If he didn’t, he might snap again, and the man had been by his side for years. He certainly didn’t deserve such treatment.
He rubbed his chest as though it could remove the feeling building there as though he were waiting for a battle to start. Marshall had been behind the garlic in the cats’ food, there was no doubting it. Cillian couldn’t fathom what he hoped to achieve by harming some innocent animals, but it didn’t matter. This was just the start, Cillian knew it and Marshall knew it.
And he couldn’t let Ivy get caught in the middle of it. Harry Marhsall was a dangerous man. Cillian knew that from experience.
Chapter Thirteen
The explosion of family members rushing to clamber out of three carriages didn’t surprise Ivy. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been away from them for so long. In a flurry of skirts and petticoats and hats, her sisters hastened over while their husbands and her father doled out instructions to the drivers. Even Duke’s father, William Cameron had joined their group and Ivy noted he lingered quite closely to Aunt Sarah.
Her twin gave her a huge kiss on the cheek, crushing her into an embrace. “I hate carriage rides,” Lilly declared.
“We were in there for all of two hours,” Violet said, wrapping Ivy in a slightly more gentle embrace.
“Yes, but I was with Aunt Sarah and Simon,” Lilly muttered.
Ivy glanced around her sisters to spy Aunt Sarah handing over Simon the cat to a bewildered looking Cillian. He held the cat at arm’s length for a few moments then wrapped it into an awkward hold. Thanks goodness the cat was of a gentle temperament and used to travelling all over with Aunt Sarah as he sat complacently, eyeing what was to be his new territory for a few days whilst Ivy’s family visited.
“The house is just lovely,” Clementine enthused. “I cannot think why we’ve never been here before.”
“The previous viscount spent much of his time in London,” Ivy explained, though she imagined Cillian’s cousin was not overly keen on the idea of spending time with the scandalous Musgraves. From what she could gather, the viscount was quite the snob—an attitude he had passed onto his servants somehow.
“More importantly, how are you?” Clementine cupped Ivy’s face and turned it this way and that.
“I’m not a horse,” Ivy protested.
“I need to make sure you are all in one piece.” Clementine leaned in. “And that your husband is treating you well,” she said in low tones.
“He is treating me perfectly well.” Ivy offered a smile she hoped reached her eyes. “He is quite the gentleman.”
Too much of one sometimes. Even after all this talk of rumors, she itched for him to make good on these promises of kisses. Whilst she had appreciated his patience at first, it was getting tiring. Part of her reasoned that the only way she could get to know him properly would be to kiss him, but another part of her knew there was no logic behind such an idea.
She wanted a kiss from Cillian and that was all there was to it. She needed to feel his lips and his hands and know what it was like to be kissed thoroughly by him.
And it had nothing whatsoever to do with trying to understand if there was any substance to these rumors.
There was no logic behind it, only feeling.
Ivy held back a sigh and kept her smile in place as her mother and Aunt Sarah squeezed her tight and finally her father gave her a peck on the cheek. Cillian gestured for everyone to enter the house, but Ivy paused when she heard another vehicle coming up the graveled drive.
She didn’t have any more family members unless her brother had decided to surprise them all and return from Europe. But there was no chance Frederick would be travelling in a cart.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked Cillian.
An odd smile crossed his lips. “Not someone.”
