by Gill, Tamara
"I love you. That is why I want to marry you, Iris."
"Oh my God." Her face blanched. "The kiss. Everything between us. You bastard," she sobbed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "You helped me out of guilt. You felt sorry for me, and that's why you've been so accommodating."
"Iris, that is untrue." Panic assailed him, and he felt along with saw her slipping out of his hold, pulling away from him.
"You pitied me and felt guilty over having a hand in my accident and sustained injuries." She shook her head, clearly bewildered. "I cannot marry you. I will not marry a man who only declares to love me because he feels obligated to save me from a spinsterhood that he had a hand in creating." She wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Josh stood at the desk, completely unsure as to what to do. He would not lose her. No matter what she believed.
"I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you," he said, going toward her, only to be turned away yet again. "You are everything to me, and tomorrow we will marry, if only because you could now be carrying my child. But you will marry me, and I will earn your forgiveness. I will make amends for my crime against you and Redgrove. God damn it, Iris, know that I never thought that you would be hurt the way you were. I did not know such a foolish lark would kill Redgrove."
"But we were, weren't we?" She shook her head. "Is that all you care about? That I could be carrying your child? I find out today that you had a hand in the accident that killed my betrothed and then that you kissed me out of pity. You may state otherwise, but it is clear to me as the sky outside that what I say is the truth. My mother may be the daughter of an earl, but I have no dowry or connections to the nobility side of my family. I come to this marriage with nothing but a respectable name. Not that it is so respectable any longer since I have acted without consideration or appropriateness while in town. I'm scarred, have a limp that impedes me when the weather turns cold, and I could not be further from a diamond of the first water, what you wanted for a wife. Do not try to fool me into believing that you kissed me out of anything other than pity. You did not. Nor will I marry you tomorrow. I shall be returning home posthaste where I hope to never set eyes on you again."
Josh stormed after her when she made a break for the door, slamming it shut. "You will marry me, Iris. I never kissed you out of charity."
She made a scoffing sound, refusing to look at him. He ground his teeth. "At least wait and see if you're pregnant first before you cry off. I will not allow my son or daughter to be a bastard."
She did look at him then, and he read the hope seeping out of her blue eyes. Damn it. Now she would think he did not want to marry after all, which could not be further from the truth. He merely needed time. Time to win back her love and trust.
"I will wait until my courses are due, and then we shall see. Until then, I shall ask my mama to rent a house elsewhere in London. I think it is only right that I leave here."
Josh ran a hand through his hair, fear clutching at his gut that he was losing her. It would be harder for him to repair the damage the truth had wrought with her out of the house. But he would. He would win her love and fix this misunderstanding. And he would marry Iris.
The only duchess who would do for him.
Chapter 27
They did not rent another property in London. In fact, much to Iris's surprise, their carriage, bundled with an abundance of luggage, much more than she had arrived in London with rolled to a stop before a large, Georgian Hanover Square manor house. The front covered in ivy, the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun.
"Whose house is this?" Iris asked, glancing in question at her mama.
Her mother waited for the coachman to open the carriage door before climbing down. "My mother’s. Come, we shall stay here."
Iris followed her, frowning. Her father came up the rear, quiet and sedate, and Iris wondered what they were doing here. She had made inquiries to call but had been turned down via missive each time. The hand of friendship and forgiveness never outstretched, not even to a grandchild the countess had never met.
Her mama had no need to knock, the door swung wide, and a butler stood, proud and resolute at the door. What happened next made Iris gape. The old retainer's mouth lifted into a genuine smile, and he clasped her mama's hand, pulling her into the house.
"Oh, Lady Jane. How very happy we are to see you. Welcome home," he said, taking in Iris and her father, his smile never fading from his features. "The countess is in the parlor upstairs. I shall take you to her."
Iris cleared her throat. "Should you not check first to see if we will be admitted?" she asked, not wanting to put the countess more against them than she already was.
The footman gave her mama a knowing smile and started climbing the stairs leading to the first floor. "How is the countess, John?" her mother queried, her voice without fear, merely genuine curiosity.
Iris could make no sense of the situation at all. They disliked her mama's family. She was sure of it. What was happening here made as much sense as her betrothal to the Duke of Penworth.
Very little, and ended just as bad as her mother's relationship with the countess they were about to meet.
"She will be all the better for seeing you, Lady Jane," the butler stated.
They reached the first floor and turned down a long passage that opened up to a bank of windows, numerous family paintings down one side. Iris halted at the sight of her mama, a painting of her during her coming-out season. She gasped and felt her father halt, his attention too caught on the magnificent artwork.
"How beautiful mama was," Iris declared, noting the family diamonds that adorned her mother's neck and hair.
"Your mama is still as beautiful as that woman in the painting to me. I should have made her go see her mother and make amends years ago. It was my own fault that they fell out."
They continued on. Iris riveted to the story she had never heard before, but one her father seemed willing to share. "What happened, Papa?" she asked, having wanted to know for some years now.
He pursed his lips. "The short of it was she married a man who was the third son of a baron when she should have married a duke such as yourself."
Iris did not correct her father that she was yet to marry the duke, and right at this moment, was unlikely to do so. Not after what he had done to her. The lies and hurt he had caused her.
As if on cue, her leg protested her step, and she flinched.
Her father continued, "We married against her parents’ wishes, and she was cut off without a penny to her name. They told her never to return unless she had come to her senses."
Iris frowned, wondering what it meant that they were here now then. Her father must have read her mind, for he chuckled. "I'm sure she's not about to throw me over now, but I do think your mama's about to wrap her mother about her finger again and by using you to gain her forgiveness. The countess, no matter how harsh she was to me, loved her daughter, and I do think it broke her heart that they have not mended their relationship in all these years."
"I'm sorry to put you and Mama in this situation. I know the wedding was supposed to proceed tomorrow, but I'm not ready. Not yet. I need time, you understand, do you not, Papa?" she begged him, knowing that her father would always stand beside her and her decisions.
"Of course, my darling. We would never force you into a union you were not ready for."
They came to the drawing room, and if Iris thought to see dull, gray furnishings and black curtains, blocking out the light, hiding the immovable and cruel countess from the world beyond, she was utterly mistaken.
Bright-yellow silk wallpaper covered the walls. Soft greens and pastel shades of every color you could imagine covered the furnishings and rugs upon the floors.
She watched from the doorway as the countess stood at their arrival, her eyes alight with shock and hope. Her mother, the countess’s only daughter, dipped into a perfect curtsy, throwing her mama a knowing smile. "My lady, Mother," she said, continuing to grin in a way
that Iris recognized as a secret little look between mother and daughter.
"Jane?" the countess said, her voice wobbling with emotion. "You are here?"
She nodded. "I thought it time we were friends again. Too much time has passed, and as you know, I have had a happy and loving marriage to a good man who is now a vicar. And I need your support now, more than ever, if we're to help Iris keep her reputation if she cries off permanently her wedding to Penworth."
The older woman‘s gray hair was still curled and pinned to perfection on her head. Her skin was wrinkled with time, but Iris could still see the resemblance of a young, beautiful woman, a daughter of a marquess if she were not mistaken, staring over to her.
"So you are the woman everyone is talking about this Season. The very lady who captured the elusive duke's heart. Come, my granddaughter, and let me have a look at you."
Iris came before the countess, dipping into a curtsy, still unable to believe that any of them were here.
"I'm sorry I have not allowed you to call, you must forgive my past judgements on others and let us move forward."
Iris cast a curious glance to her mama, who rolled her eyes at the countess's words.
"Now, let me look at you, dear." Iris waited for the countess to complete her inspection. "Hmm, yes, you do look pale and in need of rest. I'll have your rooms prepared." The countess patted Iris's cheek. "It is lovely to meet you, at last. I'm happy your mama came to her senses and decided to bring you here to meet me. I shall do all that I can to ensure your Season is still a success even if the duke is no longer part of your life."
The weight of the situation became all too much and Iris sought out a settee to sit without being invited to do so. She slumped into the chair, the grandmother she just met and her mama coming to sit on either side of her. "I do not know what I want any longer," she admitted truthfully. "Or what I should do."
Her father bowed, backing out of the room. "I shall allow you ladies to discuss the matters of the heart alone. I will be in the library downstairs should you need me."
Iris looked after her father, who all but ran from the room. A lump wedged in her throat over her argument with Josh only hours ago. The hasty packing. The tears, both hers and the dowager duchess’s, who had no idea that her son had any part in Redgrove's misfortune. What a terrible day it had been for everyone.
"Tell me what has happened, my dear. I'm the Countess Buttersworth, and I shall make it all better. I promise you that. and if not, I shall send you on a grand trip abroad with myself as your chaperone, and we shall enjoy the sights the continent has to offer."
"Mama, do be serious," Lady Jane chastised. "Iris is yet to understand your teasing. She's upset, can you not see? You need to be serious."
"Bah," the countess barked. "I have been serious for years, and it left me without a daughter. I will no longer be so." The countess reached across Iris and clasped her daughter's hand. "I'm so very glad you have come home, my dear. Even if you did bring your husband whom I shall accept, but always believe far beneath your notice. Even so," she continued, "I'm glad that you are back under this roof."
Iris's mama squeezed the countess's hands in return. "I am glad to be here too. I should have come many years ago. But, I suppose I get my stubbornness from my mother and refused to bend."
The countess chuckled then sobered. "Now, tell me what occurred that this engagement seems to be halted all of a sudden. I will not mention that I did not receive an invitation to the nuptials."
Iris felt the heat on her cheeks. Her mother shrugged. "I was mad at you, that is why you did not receive an invite, but that is all forgotten now, isn't it, Mama? Now we must concentrate on the next generation of our family."
"Oh, of course. Of course. Iris dear, do fill me in what was said between you and the duke."
Like a tidal wave of words, she blurted out what happened between them. The kiss that brought upon their engagement in the first place. The many hints and vague statements from Templedon and Lady Sophie. She excluded the information about the duke and herself being intimate. They did not need to know all her secrets. But then she told them the worst part, by far. That the duke had made the bet that Redgrove had taken upon himself to best and the outcome that they all knew occurred. She told them that he had only helped her out of pity because he felt guilty over his involvement in her accident.
She fumbled in her reticule for her handkerchief, dabbing at her nose and cheeks. "I cannot marry the duke, and you can see why not. He does not love me. He feels sorry for me. Sees me as some cripple that requires saving and he, the brave knight in shining armor."
"He is certainly handsome enough to be a knight," her grandmother quipped. "Tell us what the duke replied to your accusations."
Iris sniffed, hating to remember. "That is was untrue." That he kissed her because he wanted to. That she had been in his thoughts for days leading up to their slip of etiquette. "That he did not feel sorry for me and did not propose because his mother caught us and made him."
"Did the dowager make him propose?" her mother queried.
Iris thought back on the day. "No, she did not. The duke beat her to it and stated he was merely kissing in celebration of his new fiancée." The memory did take a little sting out of the situation but were his words this afternoon true? Or was he lying yet again, evading the truth as he had done so for weeks about his bet that killed Redgrove?
"I think," her mama said, "that you should take some time to think over everything that has happened. There is no shame in waiting. You have had a shock with what you were told. I'm certain that it has brought up painful memories from your past and made you question the duke's motives. Anyone having been told what you were would feel the same."
Her mama's words comforted her. What the duke had spoken had upset her. Had made her question his loyalty, his love for her. How could it not? Their union was not expected. Not even she had thought to marry so far above her station. That he had possibly proposed because he felt responsible, guilty over her injuries was a truth she could not stomach. No marriage would survive or be a happy union with such an unstable foundation.
"I'm very tired. Would you mind if I excused myself and rested in my room?"
"Of course, my dear. I should want to catch up with your mama in any case." The butler, as if sensing the countess was about to summon him, came into the room. "Please escort my granddaughter to the guest suite, John."
He bowed and did as he was bid. Iris followed the gentleman, exhaustion overtaking her limbs and making them weak. In a week or so, she would know if she would have to marry the duke. While a part of her longed for a child, his child to be precise, she also did not want to be forced into a union that she did not long for.
Had his guilt over his involvement in Redgrove's downfall clouded his judgment when it came to her? Made him believe he had to be her savior, her protector?
The butler halted at a door not far along the passage. "This is the guest suite, Miss Cooper. Please let us know if you require anything. I'll have a lady’s maid sent up to assist you shortly."
"Thank you," she replied, going into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. The room was feminine and light, the windows overlooking Hanover Square. Carriages rolled by, and families took the air in the park across the road. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at it. How could her life, her union with the duke have gone so terribly wrong?
But she did know how it had come to pass, and now she needed to figure out what to do about it. If anything was to be done about it at all.
Chapter 28
A week after Iris had left his London home, Josh sat in the library, penning yet another letter to her, begging for her to forgive him. To come home and marry him.
He knew she would not. With the days passing by and not a word from her, a sinking, irreparable feeling had settled in his gut and would not dissipate. London and their postponed wedding was all the ton were talking about. The chatter, the sly looks, and amused glances tha
t some of the women threw his way, was unbearable.
They all ought to be horsewhipped. Hell, he ought to be belted too for what he had done and not said to Iris. A shameful secret such as the one he kept from her was never appropriate.
It would serve him right if she should leave him and never return. Marry someone else much nobler than he. A gentleman who had not stripped her of her betrothed and then hidden that fact from her while courting her to marry.
Hell, he'd not even done that. He'd kissed her and had merely announced their betrothal. He had not asked her for her hand or queried whether she was willing to have him as her husband. Therefore, it did not surprise him that Iris did not believe a word he spoke about his feelings being genuine.
Now she would not allow him to call, every missive he had sent returned unopened. He doubted she would ever do so again. He had buggered up everything and was at a loss over how to repair the damage.
How could he win back her love? He threw down his quill, the ink splattering upon his mahogany desk, and leaned back in his chair.
The sound of the library door closing had him looking up. For a moment, hope bloomed through his chest that Iris had come to call on him, to discuss their future, but instead, his sister Alice stood in the doorway, her eyes clouded with concern.
She came over to the desk, seating herself across from him. "What have you done, Josh darling? I know it is bad, for I just ran into Iris on Bond Street, she was out with the countess, and she barely spoke a word to me. She was very subdued. Whatever has occurred between you two that she is now pulling away from us all?"
"Iris was on Bond Street?" The urge to ride down there and see if she was still present ate at him. Josh forced himself not to move. She would come to him when she was ready to talk. He would not force her, not when his life and happiness depended on her choosing him.
"She was, and although she was friendly and polite, I had a distinct feeling that she was also wary. Why are you both not already married? Mama has been vague as to the reason why you are not. I need to know so I can fix this."