Scandals of an Earl's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 8) by Samantha Holt

Author:Samantha Holt [Holt, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Helstone Press
Published: 2023-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Perhaps it was the warm thrum of wine running through Ivy’s veins or maybe she wasn’t seeing things clearly.

As she and Cillian came to a halt in front of her bedroom, the hallway blessedly quiet after her family had bid them good night and retreated to bed, she swore she spotted a lopsided smile that made him seem an awful lot younger than his years.

She blinked when she saw it again. The tiniest flicker of amusement. But what caused it?

“Are you tipsy, Cillian?” she asked.

A brow lifted. “Tipsy?”

“Yes. Tipsy.”

“I do not think men get tipsy.”

“Nonsense. Men can get tipsy.”

“I think a man prefers it when you say inebriated or perhaps even pi—” He paused and shook his head. “Well, I’m none of those.”

She turned her back to the door and looked up at him. Remnants of flour lingered on his collar and shoulders. She itched to brush it off.

Instead, she laced her hands together in front of herself and tried to recall why she had to be cautious.

She shouldn’t open herself up to this man. Not until she knew the truth.

But she’d watched him tonight. An awful lot. So much so that Lilly decided Ivy was besotted with her new husband.

How could she not watch him, though? She’d seen the uncertainty with which he’d viewed her family. She’d feared for the tiniest of moments that he might dash away or even say something snobbish. Of course, that was foolish thinking. Cillian did not have a snobbish bone in his body. She wasn’t so ignorant that she did not understand how noisy and daunting her family could be. As the quietest member, there was many a time she’d wished to retreat no matter how much she loved them.

However, Cillian had surprised her.

He’d played the games, and laughed, and even spent a good half an hour in deep conversation with Aunt Sarah which had seemed incredibly intense and a little odd for her aunt was so rarely serious.

Ivy had to suppress a shiver when she thought about what Aunt Sarah might have to say. She was about the most candid person Ivy knew. But whatever was said, he engaged her politely and without a show of embarrassment.

He’d been the perfect gentleman.

These rumors had to be false. They had to be put about by some troublemaker.

By that man perhaps.

Ivy could not, for the life of her, marry up the image of the man who had written to her father to have her naughty goat and her other animals brought to her with the idea that he could be a killer. It was impossible.

“I think perhaps you might be tipsy, though.” Cillian remained close, a lamp in one hand, his shoulders taking up most of her view. The light flickered and bounced off his features, highlighting the slight furrows and the stubble that had begun to grow on his chin.

Ivy squeezed her hands together more tightly.

“I’m not tipsy,” she protested. “Just a little warm.”

“And floury, sweeting.” He flicked a finger across her nose.

It could have been the endearment.

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