sat down to tea.
“Please sit, Lord Ivan. More tea?” she asked him coldly, taking over the role of hostess from Evvie.
Lord Powerscourt gave her a sardonic smile and sat also. He nodded to the tea, then his gaze took liberties with her figure that no other man had ever dared.
She knew that arrogant stare only too well, and she endured it as best she could. But when she couldn’t stand it a second more, she blurted out, “
So
what has brought you calling on Evvie so soon after your arrival . . . ah . . . my lord?”
“I thought it my duty to offer your sister my condolences. I was quite sorry to hear about her ‘difficulties’ in the time I’ve been away.”
Lord Ivan watched her pour out. She damned his look of satisfaction when he saw her hand shake.
“Shall we have more biscuits?” Evvie suddenly stood. She put her hand on the empty biscuit plate. Picking it up, she frowned worriedly in Ivan’s direction, then made her way through the maze of furniture to the kitchen.
As Lissa watched her go, she regretted those long painstaking days when she had taught Evvie how to get about in the house. She had always been so proud that her sister was able to take care of herself at Violet Croft, even so far that she could make and serve tea to their few guests. But now she damned all the lectures to George about keeping the chairs out of Evvie’s path, she damned all of Evvie’s bruised shins, and mostly she damned herself for teaching her sister self-reliance to the point that Evvie was the one allowed to leave this terrible scene for more biscuits, and not herself.
Lissa worriedly put down the teapot. Alone, she faced her nemesis. There was no need for pretense now.
“Why have you come back, Ivan?” she demanded in a whisper.
With his frame more than filling the large easy chair, he leaned back and touched his fingertips together. He stared at her over his hands. “I’ve come for the country air . . . you see, Nodding Knoll left me with such pleasant memories.”
Liar, she wanted to say, then her gaze skimmed over his scar and she thought better of it. “You could have come back sooner, I daresay,” she accused.
“So you’ve missed me?” He leaned forward and grasped her hand, which was resting next to the teapot. Shocked by the warmth of his calloused palm, she immediately wanted to pull back. But he wouldn’t let her. He held her hand tightly. Although he didn’t hurt her, she could not pull free.
“I haven’t missed you,” she whispered, tugging futilely at her hand.
“But maybe you have. Shall we go to the stables and see?” The corner of his lips lifted in a smile.
“You cad,” she hissed, this time violently shoving on his arm.
“Here we go! Freshly made this morning!” Evvie breezed into the parlor with a plate full of biscuits. Immediately Ivan released her. Not expecting it, Lissa was thrown against the tea table.
Quickly she scurried back on the sofa as far from Powerscourt as she could get. As Evvie brought her a cup and saucer, she regained some of her composure.
“Will you be staying at the castle long?” Lissa asked, once more striving for polite conversation.
“Long enough,” Ivan stated. He smiled sardonically as he leaned to retrieve his teacup.
Now most definitely rattled, Lissa struggled for a reply. Trying desperately to think of one, she looked all around the room, everywhere but at Ivan; for every timeshe looked at him, all she could see was that vicious scar and the promise of revenge in his eyes.
Trying to look as cool as possible, she lifted her teacup to her lips, but, of course, she had forgotten to pour herself tea. Caught in the act, a small furrow appeared in her brow.
“Your sister makes a good cup of tea, don’t you think, Miss Alcester?”
Her gaze met with his. Wicked amusement sparkled in his eyes, but she was not about to let him unravel her further.
“Yes, Evvie always does.” In an attempt to ignore his stare, she almost took another
“Please sit, Lord Ivan. More tea?” she asked him coldly, taking over the role of hostess from Evvie.
Lord Powerscourt gave her a sardonic smile and sat also. He nodded to the tea, then his gaze took liberties with her figure that no other man had ever dared.
She knew that arrogant stare only too well, and she endured it as best she could. But when she couldn’t stand it a second more, she blurted out, “
So
what has brought you calling on Evvie so soon after your arrival . . . ah . . . my lord?”
“I thought it my duty to offer your sister my condolences. I was quite sorry to hear about her ‘difficulties’ in the time I’ve been away.”
Lord Ivan watched her pour out. She damned his look of satisfaction when he saw her hand shake.
“Shall we have more biscuits?” Evvie suddenly stood. She put her hand on the empty biscuit plate. Picking it up, she frowned worriedly in Ivan’s direction, then made her way through the maze of furniture to the kitchen.
As Lissa watched her go, she regretted those long painstaking days when she had taught Evvie how to get about in the house. She had always been so proud that her sister was able to take care of herself at Violet Croft, even so far that she could make and serve tea to their few guests. But now she damned all the lectures to George about keeping the chairs out of Evvie’s path, she damned all of Evvie’s bruised shins, and mostly she damned herself for teaching her sister self-reliance to the point that Evvie was the one allowed to leave this terrible scene for more biscuits, and not herself.
Lissa worriedly put down the teapot. Alone, she faced her nemesis. There was no need for pretense now.
“Why have you come back, Ivan?” she demanded in a whisper.
With his frame more than filling the large easy chair, he leaned back and touched his fingertips together. He stared at her over his hands. “I’ve come for the country air . . . you see, Nodding Knoll left me with such pleasant memories.”
Liar, she wanted to say, then her gaze skimmed over his scar and she thought better of it. “You could have come back sooner, I daresay,” she accused.
“So you’ve missed me?” He leaned forward and grasped her hand, which was resting next to the teapot. Shocked by the warmth of his calloused palm, she immediately wanted to pull back. But he wouldn’t let her. He held her hand tightly. Although he didn’t hurt her, she could not pull free.
“I haven’t missed you,” she whispered, tugging futilely at her hand.
“But maybe you have. Shall we go to the stables and see?” The corner of his lips lifted in a smile.
“You cad,” she hissed, this time violently shoving on his arm.
“Here we go! Freshly made this morning!” Evvie breezed into the parlor with a plate full of biscuits. Immediately Ivan released her. Not expecting it, Lissa was thrown against the tea table.
Quickly she scurried back on the sofa as far from Powerscourt as she could get. As Evvie brought her a cup and saucer, she regained some of her composure.
“Will you be staying at the castle long?” Lissa asked, once more striving for polite conversation.
“Long enough,” Ivan stated. He smiled sardonically as he leaned to retrieve his teacup.
Now most definitely rattled, Lissa struggled for a reply. Trying desperately to think of one, she looked all around the room, everywhere but at Ivan; for every timeshe looked at him, all she could see was that vicious scar and the promise of revenge in his eyes.
Trying to look as cool as possible, she lifted her teacup to her lips, but, of course, she had forgotten to pour herself tea. Caught in the act, a small furrow appeared in her brow.
“Your sister makes a good cup of tea, don’t you think, Miss Alcester?”
Her gaze met with his. Wicked amusement sparkled in his eyes, but she was not about to let him unravel her further.
“Yes, Evvie always does.” In an attempt to ignore his stare, she almost took another
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