Pratley sat back in his chair and sighed, as if to signal that he had said what he wanted to say, and that was the last that needed to be said on the subject. Theo knew he should just let it go. He had no interest in Lady Iris and was certain that an intelligent woman like her would have no interest in this buffoon, but he couldn’t. He could not let this self-satisfied oaf talk about Lady Iris as if she were a commodity, a prized possession that this fool was proud to have won.
‘Is that all Lady Iris is to you? A pretty face and a sizeable dowry?’
‘Well, no, certainly not,’ Pratley said, sounding affronted. ‘She’s a lovely young woman, just lovely. All I’m saying is she’d make a man like me an attractive wife, and what man doesn’t want an attractive wife on his arm? Makes him feel, well, more of a man, doesn’t it?’
Theo grimaced. Did he really have any right to judge Pratley? Hadn’t he been exactly the same? Hadn’t he been so proud, strutting about with Estelle on his arm? He’d been full of smug self-satisfaction because he had the woman that every other man wanted. What a fool he had been. What a fool Pratley still was, and Lady Iris deserved so much better. Better than Pratley, better than himself.
‘And Lady Iris is interested in what you have to offer, is she?’
‘What?’ Pratley shuffled forward in his chair. ‘Well, she hasn’t told me that in so many words, but then she’s just playing a bit hard to get, isn’t she?’ He huffed out his indignation. ‘After all, she’s a fine-looking gel, so she’s entitled to play a few games with a man, isn’t she? Makes ’em an even better prize when you finally do catch ’em.’
In that Pratley was right. Young ladies often did play games. Hadn’t Estelle played games with him? Games that went from playful to cruel. But he doubted Lady Iris was the sort to dally with a man’s affections and Pratley had no right to talk about her in that way. And he doubted she actually was toying with Pratley. Their conversation had suggested she had absolutely no interest in the man—quite the opposite. This so-called almost courting was purely in Pratley’s mind.
Theo was confident that Lady Iris had better taste. But that did not mean the mother did. His confidence evaporated. The mother had set her sights on Theo, but Pratley was an even better catch for a mother in search of a husband for her daughter. Perhaps the mother had given Pratley reason to hope.
‘And what of Lady Springfeld?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. ‘Have you broached the subject with the mother? Is she agreeable?’
Pratley huffed. ‘That one. A most unusual woman, I have to say. Anyone would think she doesn’t want the gel to wed. She does nothing to promote her cause. I’ve had so many other mothers approach me this Season, encouraging me to show an interest in their daughters, but from Lady Springfeld, nothing.’
Interesting. That was not the impression Theo got. His presence here tonight was testament to how much the mother wanted the daughter to be wed. He took another drink, pleased that Pratley had confirmed his suspicions. The man did not stand a chance with Lady Iris, as neither the young lady herself nor her mother saw Pratley as a marriage prospect. He doubted he was the only gentleman Lady Springfeld had tried to interest in her daughter, but Pratley was not under consideration. Good. He would hate to see Lady Iris married off to this self-serving ass.
‘But not to worry,’ Pratley continued, pouring himself another brandy. ‘Lady Iris has shown no interest in any other man this Season, or any previous Season, and I hear tell that the mother is not pursuing any other possibilities either. So it’s an even playing field, as they say, and I’ve got more chance than most.’
That was even more interesting. What on earth was the mother playing at, then, setting her sights on Theo when there were so many other, better prospects for her daughter? Sometimes the workings of a woman’s mind were beyond him, and he would never solve the conundrum of why women did what they did when it came to selecting a suitable husband. All Theo needed to be aware of was, even if the misguided mother was trying to pair him off with her daughter, neither he himself nor Lady Iris had any interest in such a match.
‘Then I wish you every luck in your pursuit,’ he said to Pratley.
‘Thank you, Greystone, mighty good of you,’ he replied, oblivious to Theo’s lack of sincerity. ‘Not sure why I was so worried,’ the Viscount said, and dragged on his cigar. ‘After all, we all know that no attractive woman would want to be with a man like you. Lady Redcliffe made that clear, didn’t she?’
Theo’s right hand curled into a tight fist. His muscles clenched. His body burned with rage and the desire to drag Lord Pratley outside and give him a sound beating became all but overwhelming.
With as much control as he could muster, Theo placed his brandy balloon on the table and leant in close to Pratley. So close he could smell the cigar smoke and drink on his breath. ‘You do not know what you are talking about,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You don’t know anything about me and Lady Iris, and you know even less about what happened between me and Estelle.’
‘That’s not... I didn’t mean... I just meant... It’s as if history has repeated itself, that’s all...isn’t it? You were engaged to the most beautiful woman available six Seasons ago, and now you’ve attracted the attention of the most beautiful one available this Season. I was just saying... I mean, I’m sure Lady Iris isn’t interested in you...and Lady Redcliffe...’ His choked voice came to a halt.
‘You’re despicable, Pratley. No wonder you’ve never made it further than almost courting. Lady Iris is clearly far too sensible to be attracted to you.’
‘But not so sensible as to show interest in a blind recluse,’ Pratley said, his voice starting to rise. ‘At least Lady Redcliffe had more sense.’
Theo gripped the edges of the table, holding himself back. He might not be able to see Lord Pratley but that did not mean he could not do considerable damage to the man’s smug face.
‘I hope you’re not discussing my good wife,’ Lord Redcliffe called from the end of the table. ‘That would be in very poor form indeed.’
‘We were merely saying she has made a good marriage,’ Pratley said, his voice ingratiating.
‘Indeed, she has. The lady made the right choice,’ Redcliffe replied. ‘In the end,’ he added, a noticeable level of hostility in his voice.
The boisterous conversations from the men seated around the table suddenly fell silent, the only sound coming from the footmen moving quietly round the room refilling glasses, and a few men shuffling uncomfortably in their seats.
The tension in Theo’s jaw intensified. He could hardly object to what Lord Redcliffe had said. Estelle had been completely within her rights to choose Lord Redcliffe over him, and she had indeed made the right choice. After the accident, what could he have offered her? Marriage to someone who was now half a man? That was no life for someone as beautiful and vibrant as Lady Estelle Redcliffe. Or Lady Iris. Pratley was right on that point as well.
He reached out for his drink, something he desperately needed. His hand slipped. The drink overturned, liquid sloshing across his fingers. A footman stepped in, his cloth at the ready. If Theo needed a reminder of how enfeebled he was, this accident would provide it. He couldn’t even help himself to a glass of brandy.
He flapped the servant’s cloth away and gripped his now refilled glass. A smattering of voices began to fill the silence, then a few more. Soon the room was alive with the sound of men drinking, laughing and trying to outdo each other with their witty comments and boasts.
While the noise of the men circled around him, Theo sat in silence, nursing his drink and his anger. This evening had not been the disaster he had imagined it would be. It had been worse. All it had done was reinforce that he was not the man he had once been and never would be again. He was now half a man, a blind man who had once courted the most beautiful woman of the Season, who had been the envy of all other men, but was
now a pitiful, bumbling idiot. But at least this damnable dinner party had achieved one thing. It had reminded him of why he did not go into Society and had strengthened his resolve to never do so again.
* * *
As Lady Estelle Redcliffe glided across the room Iris couldn’t take her eyes off her. She really was stunningly beautiful. Iris didn’t usually compare herself to other women, but Lady Redcliffe was making her feel somewhat dowdy.
Lady Redcliffe had been a guest at the Walbertons’ home for several days. They had spoken a few times, exchanged a few polite words, but Iris had never noticed before that she was so remarkably attractive.
Much to her annoyance, Iris knew she was now looking at Lady Redcliffe in a different light because she had once been engaged to Theo Crighton. She also knew she was being ridiculous. Of course the Earl would have women in his past. He was an attractive man, and with his title and large estate he was in many ways the perfect catch.
But even more annoying was that uncomfortable, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one she knew to be caused by the fact that the Earl had shown he still had feelings for Lady Redcliffe, the one she knew she had no right to feel.
Lady Redcliffe took the wingback chair beside Iris and smiled. It was a smile that made her beautiful face even more radiant. And yet, Iris couldn’t help but wonder whether it was genuine. She pushed that uncharitable thought away. It was an unkind thought which presumably was a product of those annoying feelings she was not allowed to have. For politeness’ sake, she smiled back at Lady Redcliffe.
‘Aren’t you the brave one?’ Lady Redcliffe said as she stirred sugar into her tea.
‘Brave?’ It was the second time in the last few days that Iris had been described in that manner and she still did not believe it was an apt description of her behaviour.
‘Inviting Theo Crighton to this dinner party,’ Lady Redcliffe added.
Iris shook her head in confusion. ‘I didn’t invite him, my mother did, and I don’t quite see how inviting him would make someone brave.’
She smiled, as if Iris had made a joke that they both understood, then leant closer and lowered her voice. ‘Aren’t you put off by all those scars?’
Iris sat up straighter in her chair, fighting to stop her voice from rising. ‘No, why should I be?’
Lady Redcliffe took a sip of her tea, observing Iris over the rim. ‘Well, I suppose they’re not as bad as they were when he first had his accident, but it’s hard not to notice them.’
Iris bit her bottom lip to stop any censure of Lady Redcliffe from escaping. She had noticed the scars when she’d first met the Earl, but now she was hardly aware of them at all. She even tended to forget at times that he was blind, as there were so many other things about him that she did notice.
‘As I said, you’re very brave.’ Lady Redcliffe took a sip of her tea. ‘So, are you and he courting?’
Iris was about to make a denial, then thought better of it. What right did this woman have to question her? And what business was it of hers what was or wasn’t going on between her and the Earl? So instead of an answer, she gave what she hoped was an enigmatic smile.
‘Well, that is a surprise,’ Lady Redcliffe said, placing her teacup on the table. ‘After all, you are rather attractive, you know.’
She slowly looked Iris up and down, as if taking an inventory of her figure and her face, causing Iris to bristle.
‘Yes, rather attractive,’ Lady Redcliffe said, her voice overly sweet. ‘I suppose you do know that Theo and I were once engaged...that he was hopelessly in love with me.’ She smiled and lightly patted her hair. ‘And I suspect he is still a little bit in love with me.’
Iris very rarely took a dislike to anyone, but she was starting to take a strong dislike to Lady Redcliffe.
‘So why did you not marry?’ she asked, horrified that her question came out sounding like an accusation.
Lady Redcliffe’s eyes grew wide and she glared at Iris as if she’d just asked why she had not run off and become a clown in the circus.
‘Do you really need to ask that?’
Iris held her gaze, her look saying, Yes, I do.
‘Well, I hardly need to mention his facial deformity, nor his affliction. He appears to be able to hide it well, but you do know he’s completely blind, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I had noticed,’ Iris said, fighting to keep her voice as neutral as possible so she would not reveal the level of her anger.
‘Well, there you are, then,’ Lady Redcliffe said, picking up her cup and taking a small sip.
‘So why didn’t you marry him?’
Lady Redcliffe’s eyebrows drew together and she tilted her head, as if trying to work out whether or not Iris was a simpleton.
‘Like you, my dear, when I was an unmarried young lady I was considered an exquisite beauty. Some say I still am.’ She smiled at Iris and paused as if giving space for the expected compliment. When none came, she frowned slightly then continued. ‘Until the accident, Theo was the ideal husband, the man that every young woman that Season was hoping to catch. He was handsome, wealthy, well-connected, perfect in every way.’ She sighed lightly. ‘Yes, I was disappointed that the fire ruined him. My husband is perhaps not as exciting and attractive as Theo was, but it is a good marriage and I am content.’
Iris wanted to condemn Lady Redcliffe for her callousness, but how could she? Young women were expected to make the best marriage they possibly could. Love rarely entered into it. Her parents were in love, as were her married sister, Hazel, and her husband, Lucas Darkwood, but they were the exceptions. Marrying for love was not what women of her class were expected to do. They were expected to marry well, and if they were also in love, that was simply all good and well, but most certainly not the aim of the union. Lady Redcliffe had done no less than was to be expected of her.
‘Although, between you and me,’ Lady Redcliffe said, leaning forward, ‘it was rather wonderful for a man to have made such a romantic, such a heroic gesture.’ She sat back and smiled. ‘It is something I’ll always cherish.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Iris both wanted and did not want to know what she was talking about. Did she really want to hear what the hopelessly in love Earl of Greystone had done to show the depth of his admiration for another woman?
Lady Redcliffe tilted her head and sat up straighter in her chair, still smiling wistfully. ‘Oh, do you not know what caused his scars? He was saving me. He was so in love with me that he risked his own life to save me from a burning building.’
Iris stared back at her in shock.
‘Oh, it’s true,’ she simpered. ‘The man was besotted with me. He was staying at my family home the night the fire broke out. He immediately ran to my room and carried me out in his arms to safety.’ She smiled and placed her hands on her heart. ‘Then he went back in to rescue some of the servants who were trapped upstairs. Something happened, I’m not sure what—a burning beam fell or something—and that’s how he got those burns across his face. The servants ended up having to save him in the end. It was all very dramatic.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘Oh, it was. The damage to the house wasn’t too bad and was easily repaired, and everyone got out safely, but Theo was never the same afterwards. His scarring was frightful to begin with, even worse than it is now. No one knew whether he’d make a full recovery and it was immediately apparent that he’d never see again. Lord Redcliffe had proposed to me earlier in the Season and I’d turned him down because I had much preferred to marry Theo, but under the circumstances I thought it best to accept Lord Redcliffe. And it seems I made the right choice, as Theo has never really recovered, and I don’t just mean his appearance. He retreated to his home and has become quite the hermit, I hear.’
Iris hardly knew what to say to this woman. Lady Redcliffe had no understanding that anyone would find what sh
e had just said objectionable, that she had done anything wrong, that she had hurt and mistreated a man who loved her and had risked his own life for her.
Lady Redcliffe shook her head, her big blue eyes sad. ‘I could never live like that, and really, my dear, as an older, more experienced woman, I counsel you to consider whether such a life would be right for you either.’ She smiled at Iris and gently patted her arm. ‘After all, you are a pretty young woman. You want to attend social functions where people can appreciate your beauty. You want to spend your time mixing with fashionable Society, not be stuck away in the country, having no fun whatsoever.’
Arguments spun round in Iris’s mind. She wanted to tell Lady Redcliffe that if she loved a man she would not care about such things. But was that true? Hadn’t she already decided that she could never love a man like the Earl, a man who did not laugh, who shunned Society and gave every appearance of disapproving of people who liked to enjoy themselves? And yet she wanted to defend him, to insist that he would make a wonderful husband, and was a man it would be easy to love.
Instead, she merely furrowed her brow, trying to organise her thoughts and digest what Lady Redcliffe had said.
The doors opened and the men entered the drawing room, bringing with them a waft of cigar smoke and the bonhomie of men who had enjoyed their brandies.
Both Iris and Lady Redcliffe continued to watch the door, even after Lord Redcliffe had entered. Was Estelle too watching out for the Earl of Greystone? wondered Iris. Despite all her protestations that she had made the best choice, was content with her marriage, did Lady Redcliffe still harbour some lingering affection for Theo Crighton? Or did this rather vain woman just like the thought that there was a man present who had once been so in love with her that he had risked his life to save her, and destroyed his own life in the process?
The room filled up with loudly talking men, but there was still no sign of the Earl of Greystone. Lord Redcliffe joined them. He sat beside his wife then looked around the room, smiling to himself as if proudly showing off a priceless artwork he expected others to admire.
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