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Ivy pictured the tall man, his features shadowed by the dark night. She recalled his words, his demands for Mr. Irving to leave her be in a lyrical Irish accent. They sent a little shiver down her spine.
She’d soundly slapped the man after he kissed her, but it had not mattered. In his drunken state, she did not think he’d felt a thing. He was determined she was his lover and would not leave her be. If it had not been for the viscount, she dreaded to think what might have happened.
Of course, the outcome of that night was not anticipated either. Now she was engaged to the viscount, a man barely any of them knew. From her sisters’ research it seemed the man had unexpectedly inherited his title recently and Mother had only vague memories of his name whilst Father did not know him at all.
She knew he had saved her though. Twice. There was a high chance if she’d been caught in Mr. Irving’s embrace, no matter how unwillingly, she’d have been forced to marry him instead.
“Well, what are we to do about this?” Violet demanded. “She cannot marry the man. None of us know who he is.”
“It’s preposterous!” Lilly, Ivy’s twin, shook her head and stomped over to the window to fold her arms and peer out.
Despite being born on the same day, she and Ivy could not be more different. Lithe and always active, Lilly also inherited their mother’s dark looks whilst Ivy looked like Violet and their father. Alas, Ivy missed out on being willowy too. She never could fathom how even months of horse riding and walking and doing everything she possibly could to remain active and avoiding dessert entirely would never leave her looking like her twin.
“We cannot just send her off with some stranger,” Clementine agreed.
“We won’t,” Violet said.
“How did this happen anyway, my dear?” Aunt Sarah eased down onto the sofa next to Ivy. “It is not like you to take risks.”
“I didn’t take risks,” Ivy protested. “I simply wanted some peace to do my knitting then this drunken man...” She sighed and waved a hand. “I suppose being alone was a risk. I should have just tried to enjoy the ball.”
“Nonsense. One does not simply get some air and expect to find oneself engaged to a stranger.” Aunt Sarah shook her head. “A young lady should be safe no matter what. It is the gentleman in question who has to answer for his sins.”
“He’s not the one who has sinned,” Ivy said softly.
Violet scowled and came to stand in front of her. “Do not defend him. I’ll have Duke call him out—”
“That will not be necessary,” Ivy interrupted. Though Marmaduke was a capable man indeed, the idea of her new brother going up against such a tall, solidly built man made her stomach twist. Besides, she did not wish harm on either of them.
“That viscount was trying to help me,” she continued.
Lilly snorted. “That is not help, Ivy.”
She narrowed her gaze at her sister. “I’m no fool and I know what happened. The other man, Mr. Irving, was the one who tore my dress. He was the one trying to take advantage. The viscount intervened and instead of being thanked for his aid has found himself saddled with a bride.”
“Oh, Ivy, no one would think themselves saddled with you.” Violet dropped to the floor in front of Ivy, tucking her legs underneath her and clasping Ivy’s hands. “He’s lucky to have you. But it does not need to be so.”
Ivy pondered the lack of male interest over the years and the many remarks she’d received from members of Society, most especially before they were cut from theton. Mr. Irving must have been inebriated indeed to mistake her for his lover because everyone knew no one wanted such a woman.
Ivy drew in a breath. She’d never thought to marry, never anticipated such an outcome. Yet here she was, at a crossroads. Wed a stranger or continue on as she was whilst her sisters created new lives for themselves. She glanced at Clementine’s stomach and considered the child she carried there. The Musgrave name was already synonymous with scandal. How unfair it would be to the child to be born under the shadow of Ivy’s supposed indiscretion.
She knew which path she was going to take. She only hoped she could make the best of it.
“The viscount aided me. He ensured I was not harmed by Mr. Irving, and he stepped up to save me from having any sort of a connection with that terrible man.” Ivy lifted her chin and glanced at each of her family members in turn and set her posture firmly. “He is an honorable man, I’m certain of it.”
Something flickered across Aunt Sarah’s face. “Are you certain, my dear?”
She nodded. “Yes, he’s honorable. He must be.”
And with any luck, between them they could forge a marriage worth fighting for.
***
Cillian peered out of the carriage, barely able to make out the passing fields through the rivulets of rain. It hammered the carriage roof, creating a deafening cacophony that almost suffocated.
God, he hated carriages. Hated the movement of them, hated the feel of them, hated being closed in while the world passed by. Unfortunately, the weather wouldn’t allow him to travel on horseback. He didn’t much mind risking his own neck, but he would not see one of the animals harmed.
He tugged off his eyepatch, discarding it upon the velvet cushion next to him with a curl of his lips then rubbed his temples. Indents remained no matter how luxurious the silk holding it around his face was. He had to keep it tied tight or else it would slip and horrify everyone.
