Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Annie Burrows

  Last night Iris had sworn an oath to the gods, that if they took pity on her and found her refuge from the storm she would never lie to her mother again. They had played their part, and now it was up to her to keep her side of the bargain.

  She sent her mother a forced smile, trying to think of the best way to explain herself that would not be a lie but would also ease her mother’s concerns. Her mother waited, her face contorted with worry while Iris tried to come up with the best way to say she had spent the night alone, with a man she did not know, had seen him naked and spent part of the night in his bed. There was no way to say any of it that wouldn’t cause her mother an unforgivable amount of distress. Surely the gods wouldn’t mind if she told one more little white lie...after all, it wasn’t for Iris’s sake, but for her mother’s.

  ‘Oh, I... I woke up early and went out for a walk.’

  Her mother raised one suspicious eyebrow and slowly looked Iris up and down. ‘You are wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday.’

  ‘I didn’t want to disturb my lady’s maid, so I dressed myself,’ Iris blurted out.

  The suspicious eyebrow rose further up the forehead.

  ‘And what happened to your hair?’

  Iris looked down at the frizzy mess falling around her shoulders and tried to come up with a logical explanation.

  ‘It looks as if you have been dragged through a hedge backwards.’ Her mother reached out and removed a small twig that had lodged itself inside the plait. ‘And what happened to your hat?’

  They both looked down at the limp rag dangling from Iris’s hand. How was she going to explain that? If she didn’t stop now her little white lie was going to get decidedly grey. She had no option. She was going to have to tell the truth. At least some of it.

  ‘Oh, all right, Mother. I’ll tell you what happened, but you have to promise not to get angry.’

  ‘I will make no such promises. But one promise I can make is that I will get very angry indeed if you do not tell me exactly what happened. And no lies, mind you.’

  ‘I went out for a walk in the early evening and got lost.’

  Her mother frowned as she looked towards the window, gesturing wildly with her hand. ‘What? In that storm?’

  Outside the window the sky was blue. All was calm and tranquil, as if such things as wind and rain did not exist.

  She turned back to Iris, her brow furrowed as she waited for an explanation.

  ‘Yes. It wasn’t raining when I set out, but then it was, and I got very wet. Plus, I got lost. So, I took refuge at the home of the Earl of Greystone. He kindly allowed me to stay the night until the storm had passed,’ Iris rushed out in one breath.

  Her mother’s furrowed brow smoothed over as her eyes grew enormous. ‘You stayed at a man’s home? Was there a Lady Greystone present?’

  ‘It’s all right, Mother, he was the perfect gentleman.’ That perhaps was an exaggeration. He was bad-tempered and inhospitable. Then there was the incident in his room when he had been less than formally attired, but perhaps it would be better not to mention that.

  ‘Does anyone else know?’ her mother asked quietly, as if they could suddenly be overheard. ‘Did you tell anyone you were going for a walk? Did anyone see you coming home this morning, dressed in the same clothes, looking like that?’

  ‘No, no and no.’

  Her mother exhaled slowly through pursed lips. ‘Good. Hopefully this Earl of Greystone is discreet. Do you think he will be discreet?’

  Iris nodded rapidly. ‘Yes, I’m sure he will be.’

  ‘Hmm, but I think I need to ascertain that for myself.’ Her mother placed a thoughtful hand on her chin. ‘After all, he now holds your reputation in his hands, and he could easily destroy it if he has a mind to.’

  ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t, Mother.’ For a start, if he was going to gossip he would actually have to socialise with others, and that was unlikely to happen.

  ‘I think we need to pay him a visit.’

  ‘No, Mother, that won’t be necessary,’ Iris all but shouted. ‘I’m sure the Earl of Greystone is the very soul of discretion,’ she added, her voice now more neutral. And I’m even more sure that the last thing he will want is another visit from anyone, least of all me and my mother, she wanted to add.

  ‘Hopefully you are right. But I am still going to pay him a visit.’ Her mother nodded, her mind made up. ‘After all, I should thank him for his kindness towards you. Heaven only knows what might have happened to you if he had not offered you refuge from that storm. Visiting him and thanking him in person would be the polite thing to do.’

  ‘Perhaps you could just send him a thank-you note,’ Iris said, starting to feel desperate.

  ‘No, I want to see the man for myself so I can be certain that your reputation is safe. If all is well, then I will just thank him for his kindness. If not, then I will impress on him that it is in his best interest to keep this incident to himself.’

  Iris’s heart sank. This was getting worse. The last thing she wanted was her mother issuing threats to the Earl.

  ‘So, as soon as you have changed your clothing, we will set off. Is it far? Do you now know the way?’

  ‘No and yes. It’s actually easily within walking distance.’

  Her mother raised those eyebrows again, as if to say, So how did you get lost? but thankfully said nothing.

  Her mother left the room and a defeated Iris threw her ruined hat onto the bed. The Earl of Greystone was not going to like this, not one little bit. He had only just got rid of her, and now he was not only going to have to deal with another visit, but this time she would also have her mother in tow.

  She could only hope that she had not been lying to her mother when she said that the Earl could be discreet. The last thing she wanted was his letting her mother know anything at all about how Iris had actually spent the night.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Iris’s mother was waiting for her in the drawing room, dressed for a stroll in the countryside.

  Iris’s head was still aching slightly, having just undergone a period of torture at the hands of her lady’s maid, who had furiously brushed her hair to restore it to a neat and tidy state. A disgruntled Annette had then taken her clothes away to the sound of much tut-tutting at the condition of her stockings, which still bore some signs of last night’s ordeal.

  But at least now she was sensibly dressed for her latest unwanted visit to the Earl. She had chosen her dark brown walking dress embroidered with black thread, a matching hat, which she felt gave her a jaunty look, and sturdy black button-up leather boots. It was how she should have been dressed last night, rather than wearing her cotton skirt and jacket and such impractical silk boots. Not that it would have made much difference. She couldn’t imagine what sort of clothes you would have to wear to protect yourself from a storm. Certainly nothing she had packed for a genteel country-house party.

  But at least today she felt a little more like a sensible young woman, rather than the dishevelled wreck who had washed up on the Earl’s doorstep last night.

  ‘Right,’ her mother said slightly more loudly than was necessary as she picked up her parasol. ‘A nice stroll in the country on a beautiful morning—what could be better?’

  Iris merely smiled her agreement. The loud comment was not for Iris’s sake, but so that anyone who might be listening would think it was a stroll with no purpose, rather than a mission to save Iris’s reputation from possible ruin. Not that anyone else in the drawing room was paying much attention. The two elderly gentlemen sitting by the empty fireplace were perusing their newspapers, and the young couple in the corner were more interested in each other than anything Iris’s mother had to say.

  They set out along the country lanes that Iris had travelled earlier that morning, her mother keeping up a constant chatter the entire way, informing Iris of all that had
happened during the evening while she was missing, commenting on the scenery as they passed and exclaiming on the pretty country roads, the delightful hedgerows and the lovely green fields dotted with white sheep.

  Iris merely agreed with all she said, nodding and saying yes, it was indeed delightful, all the while worrying about the reception they might get at the Earl’s home.

  The house loomed up before them. Although today, with the bright blue sky as a backdrop, elm trees gently waving in the light wind and the stonework sparkling silver in the sunlight, it didn’t look quite so forbidding.

  Iris placed her hand on her hat and looked up. Only the crenellated roof and those proud turrets of the original castle suggested the owner wanted to repel any intruders. And that was exactly how the Earl was going to see Iris and her mother, as unwanted intruders.

  ‘Simply delightful,’ her mother said. ‘It’s almost medieval, is it not? Yes, quite delightful. If nothing else, seeing this ancient home makes it worth a visit. The Earl must come from a long line of very distinguished family members to live in a house such as this.’

  Iris cared little for historic homes so could not share her mother’s enthusiasm, particularly as they were about to storm the Earl’s castle, armed only with their unwanted good cheer.

  Gardeners were still clearing away fallen branches as they walked up the driveway, and her mother sent hearty greetings to each workman as they passed. When they reached the door she gave it a resounding knock and stood back, still smiling.

  The door was opened by the same servant who had opened the door to her last night, minus his flickering candle.

  ‘Good day, Charles,’ Iris said. ‘My mother, Lady Springfeld, and I have come to visit the Earl.’

  Charles nodded and smiled in greeting. ‘Good day to you again, Lady Iris.’ He nodded in the direction of her mother. ‘Lady Springfeld. Please come in and I’ll inform the Earl.’

  ‘Oh, this really is lovely!’ her mother exclaimed as they waited in the entranceway, and Iris agreed. It was lovely. Sun was streaming through the large domed window above the front door, lighting up the hallway, which last night had appeared to Iris as a creepy, dark passage leading heaven knew where. Today it wasn’t the slightest bit scary and, she had to admit, rather welcoming.

  ‘Just look at these tiles, Iris,’ her mother said, scraping her boot lightly along the clay tiles underfoot. ‘I suspect they are the original medieval ones. Marvellous. Simply marvellous.’

  Iris looked down at her feet, where an Oriental rug partially covered brown and white tiles featuring swirls and intricate patterns. They were the same tiles Iris had dripped on last night, but she had had as little interest in the flooring then as she did today. Her mind was too occupied by the thoughts of what reaction they were going to get from the Earl.

  Her mother looked at the portraits of who she presumed were his ancestors lined up on the wall. ‘Oh, and I see I was right. The Earl does have a very distinguished family tree,’ she said with approval.

  ‘Mother, before we meet the Earl, there’s something I must tell you,’ she said quietly, placing her hand on her mother’s arm.

  Her mother looked up at her and smiled. ‘Yes, dear, what is that?’

  ‘The Earl’s blind.’

  Her mother’s smile faded and she frowned. ‘Oh, that is a shame.’

  Iris nodded her agreement. ‘Yes, but he copes splendidly. After a while you actually forget that he can’t see.’

  ‘But he will not be able to appreciate just how beautiful you are.’ She gently touched Iris’s intricate coiffure, which Annette had insisted on styling once she had finished furiously brushing out every last tangle and frizz. ‘And you look particularly lovely today.’

  Her mother went back to looking around the entrance hall, a satisfied smile on her face. Iris could almost see her mind working. An earl. A long-established family. Large estate. Unmarried. Her heart sank.

  Please, please, Mother, no matchmaking, she silently begged. The Earl does not want me. He doesn’t want anyone.

  Charles emerged from the drawing room. ‘Please, come this way,’ he said with a bow.

  They followed him into the same drawing room where Iris had found the Earl last night. The fire was no longer burning, but he was seated in the same chair. Did he spend his entire life there?

  Max was once again seated at his feet and instantly sprang up and rushed to the door.

  ‘Maxie-Waxie!’ Iris exclaimed, bending down and rubbing the dog’s ears. A gesture that was rewarded with some vigorous tail-wagging.

  She looked up to see the Earl standing beside the fireplace.

  ‘Lady Springfeld. Lady Iris,’ he said with a bow.

  Both ladies curtsied. Even though he couldn’t see them, Iris now knew that he would be able to hear the movement of their clothing and know exactly what they were doing.

  ‘Please, be seated.’ He gestured towards a sofa, which Charles had presumably moved forward to accommodate the uninvited guests.

  ‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

  And when are you going to leave? Iris suspected he wanted to add. But at least he was being more polite to her mother than he had been to her last night.

  They made their way across the room, along with Max, and all three sat down, the two ladies on the sofa, Max at Iris’s feet. She smiled down at him and continued to pat his head.

  ‘I came to thank you for saving my daughter from the storm last night,’ her mother said, smiling brightly, even though the smiles were wasted on the Earl.

  The Earl waved his hand in dismissal. ‘It was nothing. Anyone would have done the same. It was just unfortunate that the storm was too fierce to risk my coachman taking her home.’

  ‘Yes, quite... And as only you, my daughter and I know about it, it might be all for the best if it remains our little secret.’

  The Earl nodded. ‘I have no intention of telling anyone, Your Ladyship.’

  It was no less than Iris would have expected. She could no more imagine the Earl gossiping than she could imagine him smiling.

  ‘That is very gracious of you, Your Lordship,’ her mother said with a small bow of her head. ‘As you probably know, Iris is not married, and such gossip could ruin a young woman’s chances.’

  Iris’s heart sank down another few levels. Here it came. The marriage pitch. Well, it was wasted on the Earl, and wasted on her. They did not like each other and a less unlikely couple she could not imagine. She would rather marry Lord Pratley. No, that wasn’t true. Even the Earl was better than him. At least the Earl did not bore her senseless.

  ‘Although, as she is so sought-after, it probably would not do irreparable damage,’ her mother continued. ‘Why, even this weekend I have had several approaches from young men, all eager to court her, as I have done every Season. Unfortunately, my beautiful daughter is somewhat choosy.’

  She smiled at Iris, who was clenching her teeth and glaring at her mother. At least the Earl would not be able to see her distraught face. Nor would he be able to see her chopping motions, signalling to her mother to stop this conversation. Now.

  Her mother frowned at Iris, turned back to the Earl and continued smiling.

  ‘Then I’m sure you will have no problem finding her a suitable husband,’ he said, his voice dismissive, as if he too would like to bring this conversation to an end.

  ‘You are quite correct, my lord. She just has to meet the right man.’

  Iris nudged her mother to get her attention and shook her head vehemently. To her intense annoyance, her mother did not even look at her, but kept smiling at the Earl. What was wrong with her? Unlike most mothers, Iris’s had never tried to foist her onto a man she did not want, no matter how large his estate, how big his income or how lofty his title. Her mother wanted her three daughters to be as happy in their marriages as she was in hers. S
he wanted them to marry for love. So why the sudden change? Why was she suddenly so interested in the Earl? Was her mother starting to feel desperate because Iris was unwed after five Seasons?

  ‘Yes, I believe my daughter would make a perfect wife for a man who appreciates her gentle nature and sparkling wit. She is also known throughout Society as a striking beauty. The many men who have asked for her hand have not even enquired about her dowry, which is rather sizeable. No, they have all been too taken with her beauty to even think about money.’

  ‘Perhaps we should have some tea,’ Iris said, interrupting her mother. She did not want tea, and it was not her place to make such a suggestion, but she had to say something to cut off her mother’s blatant attempt to try and pique the Earl’s interest by mentioning how much she was worth. It was so unlike her mother and it lacked even a modicum of subtlety.

  Her mother sent her a sideways glance, as if she too was surprised by Iris’s ill-mannered behaviour, then smiled at the Earl. ‘Yes, that would be lovely. Taking tea will give us all a chance to get to know each other better.’

  Iris saw the Earl suppress a sigh, but he rang the small silver bell on the side table, and when Charles arrived asked if he could please serve tea.

  ‘Although I am sure you and my daughter had a chance to get acquainted last night,’ her mother said, her voice light, even if her intent were not. ‘But not too well acquainted, I hope, or we’d be forced to read the wedding banns.’

  ‘No, we hardly even spoke to each other last night, as I went to bed almost immediately after I arrived,’ Iris blurted out, causing her mother to turn to face her and raise a quizzical eyebrow. To Iris’s horror, warmth flooded her cheeks. ‘After all, it had been a rather traumatic day, and I wanted to get up early in the morning,’ Iris raced on, trying to cover her embarrassment.

  It was bad enough that she had been alone with a man, all night. That in itself could be enough for a family to force a man into marriage. But it was much worse than that. She had been in his bedroom, for goodness’ sake, had seen him less than formally attired.