by Eva Shepherd
This rather over-generous boast was greeted with a loud cheer of approval.
‘Everyone present deserves to be commended for their sterling efforts, but unfortunately only some can receive the prizes. So, let’s get on with presenting these ribbons and cups, shall we?’
‘And we’re all pleased to see you again, my lord,’ a voice called out from the back of the crowd. Followed by countless men calling out, ‘Hear-hear!’ and then a loud round of clapping and cheering.
‘I believe you have been missed,’ Lady Springfeld said as Theo took in the surprising jubilation from the crowd.
When the cheering finally settled down, the prizes were presented, the happy revellers departed, and the tents were packed up. Theo had expected that to be the end of it. He had paid his ransom to his blackmailer. Now Lady Iris and Lady Springfeld could also depart and leave him in peace.
But no. Apparently, it was essential for Lady Walberton and the other members of the organising committee to hold a post-mortem, right now, inside his home.
‘Oh, but we won’t need you,’ Lady Springfeld said, much to Theo’s relief. ‘You and Lady Iris can retire to your drawing room while we have our discussion in the blue room.’
She headed off down the hallway with the other ladies, all chattering at once. Leaving him and Lady Iris standing in the hallway.
Gracious of you, Theo thought, to let me know which room in my house I can use. But there was no point arguing, so he merely took Lady Iris’s arm and retreated to the room that had been assigned to him.
The door clicked shut behind them and Theo wondered at Lady Springfeld’s motives. Was she assuming that if she left Theo alone with Lady Iris he would not be able to contain himself, that he would inevitably kiss her and then Lady Springfeld would have him just where she wanted him?
Well, she was wrong. He was more than capable of keeping himself in check, and how dared she think otherwise? Had he not proved himself today? Despite having her on his arm, despite being able to inhale her delightful scent of orange blossom and rose water and being disturbingly conscious of her warm body so close to his, he had acted at all times in the manner of the honourable gentleman he knew himself to be. He’d had one lapse a few weeks ago in an otherwise unblemished life. That did not make him some sort of beast.
He led Lady Iris to where he knew the armchairs had been placed.
‘Well, that was so successful I suspect Lady Walberton will be suggesting that a fête be hosted here every year,’ she said, her voice teasing as she collapsed into a chair.
He took the adjacent armchair. Not if he had anything to do with it, he wanted to reply, but didn’t want to ruin her good humour. It wasn’t her fault that her mother hid a devious mind behind a sunny, cheerful façade, so he merely made a non-committal hmm.
‘You don’t need to sound quite so excited by the prospect,’ she said with a little laugh.
He heard a light tap on the door and the door slowly creaking open.
‘Excuse me, my lady, Lady Springfeld sent me in. I’ll just sit over in the corner, shall I?’
Lady Springfeld obviously did think him a beast who could not be trusted to be alone with her daughter. Presumably, she expected Theo to try and ravish Lady Iris the moment they were alone and had decided he needed to be watched constantly.
‘Thank you, Annette. Yes, that will be perfect,’ Lady Iris replied to her lady’s maid. ‘Did you have an enjoyable day?’
‘Oh, yes, thank you. It was just lovely,’ came the enthusiastic response from across the room.
Theo tried to suppress his irritation at the maid’s presence. After all, it was right and proper and did not necessarily mean that Lady Springfeld did not trust him. But he could not deny that deep down he had been anticipating, with some pleasure, spending time alone with Lady Iris, even if just briefly. Not that he had intended to kiss her again, but her presence was not entirely offensive to him, and he was even getting used to her constant chatter and laughter.
But at least with a chaperone in the room, Lady Springfeld would not be able to accuse him of taking liberties. Thank goodness for that. He hated to think what she would expect from him if he did kiss Lady Iris again—hosting the local hunt perhaps, a masked ball, a weekend party or two.
Lady Iris moved in her chair to turn towards her lady’s maid, and the gentle rasp of silk stockings moving against each other assaulted his ears. He moved uncomfortably in his seat. The last thing he should be thinking about right now was Lady Iris’s legs encased in silk, or any of the other soft parts of her body he had unforgivably touched.
As she continued to talk to the maid he sat up straighter in his chair and coughed to clear an annoying lump in his throat. He must not think about that kiss, must not think about his hands caressing her body. Such behaviour had already got him into enough trouble, and he did not need any more problems in his life. Although he had to wonder, would hosting a hunt or a ball in exchange for another kiss be such a bad deal?
What on earth was he thinking? As tempting as it was, the price was far too high. He had no intention of kissing Lady Iris again. Just as he’d had no intention of kissing her the first time he had taken her in his arms. Somehow, it had just happened, but it must never happen again.
The door squeaked open again and Charles entered, this time thankfully minus his dancing bells, but followed by an exhausted Max, who, after receiving his expected greeting from Lady Iris, slumped down at Theo’s feet and instantly started snoring lightly.
‘Shall I serve tea, my lord?’ Charles asked, once Max had finished with his grand entrance. ‘And the cook asks if you’d like some scones. There’s a new recipe she’s anxious to try.’
‘No!’ Theo and Lady Iris cried out in unison. Then they both laughed at their equally vehement reactions.
‘Thank you, Charles, no,’ he said, in a more serious manner. ‘But you might like to serve scones and tea to Lady Iris’s maid and the organising committee.’
‘And your Morris dancing was such a joy,’ Lady Iris added. ‘Wasn’t it, Annette?’
‘Oh, yes, it was grand,’ the lady’s maid said from across the room, her voice strangely abashed. ‘Best I’ve ever seen, and you looked right dashing in that costume.’
Were Charles and Annette flirting? Was Lady Iris matchmaking between their servants? This really was all getting a bit too familiar.
‘That will be all, Charles,’ he said, hoping his voice conveyed that he for one was not going to condone this level of informality.
‘Very good, my lord. I’ll be back presently with the lady’s maid’s tea.’
‘Or perhaps Annette would like to take it in the servants’ quarters,’ Lady Iris said. ‘You can come back when you’ve finished, Annette. I’m sure you won’t be long, and Charles can leave the door open so there will be no impropriety.’
Was Lady Iris in collusion with her mother? Were they both trying to get him in a compromising position? Theo knew he should put up an objection. Even if the door was open, even if the maid was only gone for a brief moment, there was still the danger that he would again find himself in a position to be blackmailed.
But he remained mute as the maid and Charles left the room together. What was wrong with him? Was he losing his sense of self-preservation?
‘Don’t worry,’ she said with another small laugh. ‘I know my mother threatened you so you would host this fête, but she’s not a vindictive woman. She wouldn’t make you do anything she thought you’d really object to.’
Was she serious? He would have objected strenuously to hosting this fête if he had been given an opportunity to do so.
‘Oh, don’t look so affronted,’ she said. ‘You know you enjoyed yourself today. And isn’t holding a fête so much better than having to marry me?’
‘I... Well... I...’ Theo didn’t know what to say. She was right, he didn’t want to
marry her, but that didn’t mean that being married to her was an abhorrent fate that all men would want to avoid. It was just one that he wanted to avoid, and not just to her, but to any woman.
‘Don’t worry. I’m just teasing you,’ she said. ‘But Mother would never have forced you to marry me. Can you imagine my lovely mother making anyone do anything they don’t want to?’
‘She made me host this fête,’ he stated bluntly, finally finding his voice.
‘Yes, and you had an enjoyable afternoon, didn’t you? Go on, admit it.’
Theo huffed out a loud breath.
‘Go on, say it—you had fun. I know you did,’ she continued in that teasing voice.
‘Oh, all right. Yes. It wasn’t as dreadful as I had expected it to be.’
‘And?’
‘And, yes, all right—at times it was almost enjoyable.’
‘That wasn’t so hard to admit, now, was it?’
He was about to object to her teasing tone, but instead smiled. She was right. It wasn’t that hard to admit. ‘Well, a glass of Myrtle’s elderberry wine certainly took the edge off the day.’
‘One glass?’
He shrugged. ‘All right, several glasses. I must order a barrel or two for the wine cellar so I can cope with next year’s fête.’
What was he saying? He shouldn’t even be joking about this. He had no intention of hosting another fête. The elderberry wine must be having more of an effect on him than he’d first thought.
‘I’m sure the locals will be delighted if you do,’ she said. ‘They were all so happy to see you again. It was obvious how much you were missed.’
He huffed a dismissal. ‘I’m the local Earl—they could hardly behave in any other way, could they?’
She lowered her voice. ‘You don’t need to do that, you know.’
‘Do what?’
‘Push people away. Everyone was pleased to see you at both the fête and the dinner party. And you did enjoy yourself today so that proves that you don’t need to hide yourself away.’
‘I am perfectly aware of the fact that I do not need to hide away,’ he said, more loudly than he had intended. ‘I live this way out of choice. If you consider that to be hiding myself away, then so be it.’
‘But today you were so happy, you smiled and even laughed, whereas I don’t believe the way you usually live is really making you happy,’ she said, her voice still quiet and no longer teasing.
‘Nonsense.’
He expected her to put up a barrage of arguments to counter his claim, but she said nothing. She did not remind him, yet again, that he had enjoyed himself today. And about that she was surprisingly correct. Once the initial shock of having so many people on his grounds had worn off it was actually quite pleasant to meet the locals again. And despite himself, he had to admit, it had been heartening the way they had greeted him, as if with genuine affection.
‘All right, yes. I had a good time today, but that does not mean I wish to change the way I live my life. As I said, I’m perfectly happy the way I am.’
‘Hmm...’ was all she said in response.
He waited for her inevitable lecture, for her to argue that if he was so damn happy, then why was he always so bad-tempered? He even thought she might insult him by saying that hiding away was the behaviour of a coward. But after that small, murmured hmm, she kept uncharacteristically quiet.
‘All right,’ he said again, in answer to her unasked questions. ‘Perhaps it doesn’t necessarily make me happy. But it is the way I choose to live my life and that is an end to it.’
She said nothing. He tapped his hand repeatedly against the arm of his chair, his irritation growing with every second she remained silent. He knew she was still present, could hear her soft breathing, could still smell her enticing scent, so why didn’t she speak? After all, chattering incessantly was something she was so good at. Why didn’t she start blathering on about the weather, or start cooing over Maxie-Waxie, or say something, anything, other than criticising the way he lived his life?
‘All right,’ he repeated, to fill the annoying silence. ‘So, you think I’ve acted like a coward, do you? Buried myself away because I can’t face the world? Retreated in defeat?’
‘I don’t think you’re a coward,’ she said quietly. ‘After what you did no one would ever consider you a coward.’
He huffed out his annoyance. ‘I’m not talking about the fire. That night I merely did what any man would do. I’m talking about how I’ve lived since then.’
‘So am I,’ she responded. ‘Your world as you knew it was destroyed that night. You did what you did to protect yourself. That’s not cowardly...that’s survival.’
What on earth was she blabbering on about? Protect myself? From what? From whom? From the world? From those people at the fête who acted as if overjoyed to see me again? From Estelle? Nonsense. None of those people frightened him. Nothing frightened him.
He gripped the sides of the armchair, his irritation continuing to grow. Or did she think he was protecting himself from her? From the potential pain of her rejection? From the pain of being rejected again? That too was nonsense. He did not want her or any other woman and he did not appreciate this line of questioning.
‘You were hurt,’ she said. ‘It’s natural to want to hide away while you heal.’
Would she never stop with this absurd balderdash? He wanted to shout at her in a most ungentlemanly manner. It was time to nip this in the bud, to let her know that she had no right to talk to him like this—after all, she meant nothing to him.
‘Need I point out, Lady Iris, that you are overstepping what is considered appropriate behaviour from a young lady when in the company of a gentleman?’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘Twice you’ve come into my house uninvited, and the last time you did so it was to reprimand me for an impropriety which I hadn’t committed. Now you feel you’re within your rights to question the way I live my life.’
This elicited a hearty laugh from Lady Iris, one much louder than would normally be acceptable in polite society, and certainly not the reaction he expected.
‘And need I point out to you, my lord, that said gentleman has perhaps lost the right to point out to said lady what she should or should not do or say? Not when he’s kissed that young lady and has actually had his hand up her blouse.’
Theo froze in his chair. How could she talk about what had happened between them in such an open, teasing manner? Most women would be too contrite to even mention it, never mind joke about it. He could only hope no one was listening at the doorway.
‘And I suppose you believe that intimacy we shared gives you the right to comment on the way I live,’ he said in a lowered voice.
The tantalising sound of silk caught his attention as she moved in her chair. He tried hard not to be distracted by it and to focus on her annoying words.
‘It’s one thing to hide away when you first need to heal—that’s only natural—but you don’t need to do that any more. You should get out into the world. You should socialise with other people. You had been happy before and you can be happy again, but that isn’t going to happen if you hide yourself away.’
‘Next you’re going to be suggesting that I should marry, have a family, become part of the community.’
‘Would that be so bad?’ she said softly.
Theo was silent for a moment, unable to formulate all the reasons why that was indeed so bad. It had once been what he wanted but not now. And if little miss Lady Iris had thoughts in that direction then they needed to be quashed immediately.
‘Yes, it would. I have no intention of marrying anyone, ever. And I would appreciate it if you would keep your opinions to yourself. Yes, we shared a brief intimacy, but that gives you no more right to question the way I live my life than I have the right to question the way you live yours.’
‘Yo
u’re right,’ she said softly. Theo knew he was being cruel and for that he felt bad, but he could not abide having her suggesting that he should make changes just because she didn’t approve of his solitary existence.
‘It is none of my business,’ she said, her voice no longer teasing. ‘I suppose I’m a bit like my mother. We just want everyone to be happy.’
He scoffed his disagreement. ‘And, like your mother, you want to interfere in people’s lives.’
‘Yes, I suppose we do,’ she said, not sounding as if she had just been insulted. ‘But only when we think it’s for the best.’
The only response he could give to that was another humph.
‘And we do want what’s best for you,’ she continued, her voice taking on a soft, soothing quality, as if she were talking to a child. But he was not a child and he would not be spoken to in this manner.
‘Blackmail, forcing me to open up my home to all and sundry, forcing me to attend dinner parties where I have to endure...when I have made it clear that I don’t want to go. If that’s what you and your mother consider helping someone, I’d hate to see how you behave when you’ve got a vendetta against some poor man.’
‘Yes, the dinner was perhaps a mistake, but an unintended one.’
The memory of Estelle’s laughter and her flirtatious voice crashed unbidden into his mind. A mistake. That dinner had been more than a mistake—it had been a disaster, as had every encounter he had had since this overly joyful, overly meddlesome Lady Iris had entered his life. A woman who thought every problem could be solved by laughing and making a joke about it. Well, she could not solve the world’s problems just by making people laugh. She could not change his life just by tricking him into attending a dinner party and hosting a fête.
‘I know it’s not my place to give an opinion,’ Lady Iris continued, shuffling in her seat.
‘Well, it not being your place hasn’t stopped you before.’ He sat back in his chair in preparation for her latest ludicrous pronouncement.