The Punishment of Ivy Leavold (Markham Hall Book 3) by Sierra Simone Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sierra Simone
wanted to tell her as I pressed my lips to her hand once more. Only for you.
The day was unseasonably warm and incredibly windy, the trees heavy with leaves about to turn, but I didn’t pay attention to anything other than Julian’s arm, ever so casually brushing against mine as we walked. Esther trailed behind us by several feet to give us privacy. I wasn’t sure what had transpired between her and Mr. Markham before I came downstairs, but Esther’s attitude toward Mr. Markham seemed quite altered. She had been very unhappy this morning when I told her that he would visit, but now…now she almost seemed to be encouraging us to spend time together.
“You look tired, Miss Leavold,” Mr. Markham said. “Are you feeling well?”
I looked up at him. His tie was knotted neatly around his neck and his face was freshly shaved. So different from the half-wild appearance he often had at Markham Hall. He was so perfectly handsome right now, but yet, I missed that wildness, I realized. This was how a man should look and should act when he was wooing a woman, but I wanted more. I craved more. I needed it.
And then I shook my head, trying to clear that thought away. No. Just because you need something doesn’t mean it’s right.
But I couldn’t keep myself from saying, “I am feeling better now that you’re with me.”
His eyes fairly smoldered then, and his hands twitched, as if he was holding himself back from something. From fucking me, probably, knowing him. The thought made me grin.
“I like seeing you smile, Ivy,” he said. “I wish I knew what was in that wild mind of yours.”
A gust of wind blew through the park before I could answer, blowing leaves off the branches, surrounding us in a miniature storm of emerald green. I stopped walking and closed my eyes, lifting my face to the sky.
I felt the kiss of the air on my face, the brush of leaves against my shoulders and arms, and I wished more than anything I was back in the forest behind Markham Hall. I wished I was fresh from splashing in the stream or gathering flowers.
I wished I was home.
And then there was the whisper of rough fingertips on my cheek. When I opened my eyes, I saw Mr. Markham staring at me, lips parted slightly.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “You have a leaf in your hair.”
I laughed, but his face remained completely serious as he reached up and gently tugged it from my hair. And rather than drop it on the ground, he slid it into the pocket inside his jacket, the one close to his heart.
“Are you keeping that?” I asked teasingly.
Again, he stayed serious. “Until the end of time. Or until I can keep you instead.”
Something twisted inside me then, something sharp, and I couldn’t bring myself to examine it head on. I didn’t need to. I already knew what it was. It was love and it was pain and it was the realization that I wanted nothing more than to be with Mr. Markham and he wanted nothing more than to be with me and that it was only my fear keeping us apart.
But I couldn’t just abandon my wariness, my urge to bolt and run at the sign of slightest trouble. I’d grown up with that wariness and it was more than second nature. It was my first nature.
I turned back toward the house without saying anything, keeping my eyes studiously on the ground. Why did he have to be so tender? Why did he have to be so perfectly him ? It made this so much harder.
When we got to the front door, I turned back to him. Standing on the steps as I was, I had the rare opportunity of being taller than Mr. Markham. From here, I could see the rare strand of silver mixed in with his dark hair, and I could see how the sunlight caught on his long eyelashes when he looked up at me.
I wanted to say I love you, come inside the house . I wanted to say I need you, I want to marry you . But I couldn’t without betraying the hours of anguished thought I’d given this very matter. What did it matter if I loved him, if the Ivy Leavold that loved
The day was unseasonably warm and incredibly windy, the trees heavy with leaves about to turn, but I didn’t pay attention to anything other than Julian’s arm, ever so casually brushing against mine as we walked. Esther trailed behind us by several feet to give us privacy. I wasn’t sure what had transpired between her and Mr. Markham before I came downstairs, but Esther’s attitude toward Mr. Markham seemed quite altered. She had been very unhappy this morning when I told her that he would visit, but now…now she almost seemed to be encouraging us to spend time together.
“You look tired, Miss Leavold,” Mr. Markham said. “Are you feeling well?”
I looked up at him. His tie was knotted neatly around his neck and his face was freshly shaved. So different from the half-wild appearance he often had at Markham Hall. He was so perfectly handsome right now, but yet, I missed that wildness, I realized. This was how a man should look and should act when he was wooing a woman, but I wanted more. I craved more. I needed it.
And then I shook my head, trying to clear that thought away. No. Just because you need something doesn’t mean it’s right.
But I couldn’t keep myself from saying, “I am feeling better now that you’re with me.”
His eyes fairly smoldered then, and his hands twitched, as if he was holding himself back from something. From fucking me, probably, knowing him. The thought made me grin.
“I like seeing you smile, Ivy,” he said. “I wish I knew what was in that wild mind of yours.”
A gust of wind blew through the park before I could answer, blowing leaves off the branches, surrounding us in a miniature storm of emerald green. I stopped walking and closed my eyes, lifting my face to the sky.
I felt the kiss of the air on my face, the brush of leaves against my shoulders and arms, and I wished more than anything I was back in the forest behind Markham Hall. I wished I was fresh from splashing in the stream or gathering flowers.
I wished I was home.
And then there was the whisper of rough fingertips on my cheek. When I opened my eyes, I saw Mr. Markham staring at me, lips parted slightly.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “You have a leaf in your hair.”
I laughed, but his face remained completely serious as he reached up and gently tugged it from my hair. And rather than drop it on the ground, he slid it into the pocket inside his jacket, the one close to his heart.
“Are you keeping that?” I asked teasingly.
Again, he stayed serious. “Until the end of time. Or until I can keep you instead.”
Something twisted inside me then, something sharp, and I couldn’t bring myself to examine it head on. I didn’t need to. I already knew what it was. It was love and it was pain and it was the realization that I wanted nothing more than to be with Mr. Markham and he wanted nothing more than to be with me and that it was only my fear keeping us apart.
But I couldn’t just abandon my wariness, my urge to bolt and run at the sign of slightest trouble. I’d grown up with that wariness and it was more than second nature. It was my first nature.
I turned back toward the house without saying anything, keeping my eyes studiously on the ground. Why did he have to be so tender? Why did he have to be so perfectly him ? It made this so much harder.
When we got to the front door, I turned back to him. Standing on the steps as I was, I had the rare opportunity of being taller than Mr. Markham. From here, I could see the rare strand of silver mixed in with his dark hair, and I could see how the sunlight caught on his long eyelashes when he looked up at me.
I wanted to say I love you, come inside the house . I wanted to say I need you, I want to marry you . But I couldn’t without betraying the hours of anguished thought I’d given this very matter. What did it matter if I loved him, if the Ivy Leavold that loved
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