Page 30 of A Most Unlikely Lady
‘I don’t understand.’ Ivy had lost her wits right along with her modest neckline and desperate need for self-preservation because Hannah’s words made no sense.
‘I think she means that when one is attending a dance like the Widow’s Ball, the best way to disappear is to look just as you do tonight, Ivy,’ Penny spoke softly.
‘Like a wanton?’ She heard the hysteria in her own voice.
I suppose I shan’t be hiding my nerves. So much for putting up a brave front. This is why I belong in the shadowed corners where it is safe.
Millie rose from the settee and walked over to where Ivy paced. She placed a calming hand on her arm. ‘You will do wonderfully, Ivy. You are smart, and brave, and beautiful.’ She pulled her close, pressing a kiss against her cheek. ‘And if Worthington does anything you do not wish, I will use him as target practice until he’s more full of holes than a pincushion.’
Ivy’s garbled laughter barely escaped her tight throat. How fervently she wished for a few moments alone with Millie to spill out her questions. Her worries and hopes.
Before Millie resumed her seat on the settee, she leaned close, whispering words only Ivy could hear. ‘And if there are things youdowish for him to do, that is also perfectly fine, Ivy. I promise all will be well.’
How can she possibly know what I wish when I hardly know myself?
And how was it that Millie could unerringly understand exactly what troubled Ivy without Ivy speaking a word of her confusion?
Because she is my best friend. And the best of friends know what is needed.
‘You are ready for this evening, Ivy. Your skills in defence and attack are far greater than you give yourself credit for, and if you need assistance, Edward will protect you. Of this, I’m certain.’ Philippa’s cobalt eyes flashed with an undiscernible emotion. She pressed her crimson lips together and rubbed her index finger against her thumb in an endless circle.
‘Of course. I shall be fine,’ Ivy lied through clenched teeth.
‘You have your pistol?’ Hannah asked, her own hand patting the pocket where she kept any number of weapons.
Ivy nodded. Madame Collette hadn’t so much as blinked when Philippa insisted pockets be sewn into Ivy’s full skirts. A muff pistol pressed against her right thigh while the reassuring weight of its twin balanced her left side.
‘And you are going to take a dagger in your reticule; one never knows when it might come in handy.’ Millie released one of her throwing knives from the cleverly hidden strap on her wrist and flicked it in the air. Ivy watched it spin up and then return to earth. Millie caught it easily by the hilt with a satisfying thwack.
Ivy held out her jewel-encrusted purse: a throwback from the height of her debutante days. ‘Yes. Right here.’
‘Don’t forget a hatpin is handy in a pinch. Though I don’t suppose you are wearing a hat tonight.’ Penny’s brows drew down in a frown. ‘Still, almost anything can be a weapon. Your wits being the most effective of them all.’ Her gaze lingered on Ivy. While they were newly acquainted with each other, it didn’t stop the concern spilling out of Penny’s voice. Once more, Ivy acknowledged her luck in finding such fierce female friends.
While none of them said it, they were all worried. They knew Ivy was the most timid of them. Scared, wounded, frightened, and more likely to run for the shadows than stand and fight. She hated conflict. But for once, their collective concern grated on Ivy’s nerves, as did her own insecurities. She wasn’t some weakling. She had been training with Philippa since Millie’s wedding. Well over six months ago. When the intruder broke into poor Sarah’s room, Ivy stood against him, shot him in the shoulder, and not once did she shrink back from his fearsome presence no matter how terrified she might have been.
I can attend this stupid ball with Commissioner Worthington. I can find this blackguard and ensure he never threatens the children under my care. I can do for them what no one did for me.
A wave of nausea rolled through her belly.
Dear God. What am I doing?
A knock sounded. As Ivy was the only one standing, she tried to walk calmly through the front entrance. Her pale hand shook as she reached for the handle and opened the door.
Edward stood on the front step half in shadows, half illuminated by the flickering lamplight. Gone were the clothes of a working man. Instead, he wore an expertly tailored black suit. His white cravat was tied in a simple barrel knot, but it drew her eye to his throat. He’d freshly shaven, and a gust of wind brought the scent of soap, Jamaican spice, and coffee. Her fears dissipated in the heat of something else.
Attraction. I’m attracted to him.
Once more, Ivy found it difficult to breathe.
But I’m not capable of such feelings.
The warm rush of awareness washing over her skin and making her lips and fingertips tingle begged to differ.
Lamplight glinted in his eyes, and she caught a flash of something raw and needy before he blinked it away.
‘You look quite lovely.’
She hadn’t admitted until this very moment that she wanted him to like her in this dress. Which was stupid. Glancing down, she was horrified to see the splotchy crimson blush staining her exposed décolletage. She pressed a hand over her chest.
