“What do you mean, you do not trust him?”
“He became interested in you from the moment he walked through the door of the inn, and I can’t explain it, but I just get this feeling when I am around him that something is… not right.”
Violet placed her hands on her hips and leaned back against the table behind her.
“I cannot believe you, Iris.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You are jealous.”
“Of Mr. Cooper? Not at all!” Iris exclaimed. While the man may be handsome, she was not attracted to him in the least.
“You may not want him for yourself, but you are jealous that he has taken an interest in me instead of you,” Violet said, her purple-blue eyes now slightly tearing up and Iris’ heart broke a little that her sister would think such a thing of her. “You cannot imagine that a man might actually want me and not you.”
“Oh, Violet, that is not it at all!” Iris exclaimed. “Do you not wonder at why he was asking you so many questions? Why does he want to know the comings and goings of guests, of who has previously stayed and who we anticipate may be coming in the future? Why does it matter?”
“Perhaps it is simply that he is interested in my life!” Violet said, a tear escaping now and she brushed it aside. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“It isn’t, Violet, not at all,” Iris said. “In fact, I can think of no other woman who is as loving and as wonderful as you, truly I do not. You know I am a good judge of character, that you cannot deny. Please, think whatever you want of me, but be careful, will you not?”
“As you always are?” Violet said now, turning back to her task as though she could no longer stand speaking to Iris. “I will be fine, Iris, do not worry about me. You can keep your attention on Lord Westwood.”
“I’m sorry, Violet,” Iris said softly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was concerned, that was all.”
“Please stop your listening at keyholes as well,” Violet said. “It is hardly becoming for a woman of your age.”
Iris nodded despite the fact that Violet couldn’t see her, and dashed a tear from her own eye before moving forward to help Violet, in silence.
13
“Iris!” August called, pleased to find her sitting out on the sandy shore when he began his walk the next morning. “How are you today?”
She turned to look at him and sighed dramatically when he sat down next to her. “Not overly well, I’m afraid.”
“No?” he asked, concerned about her after yesterday. “’Tis understandable after what happened.”
“It isn’t that — thanks to you. It’s actually my sister, Violet,” she said. “Of all of us, she is usually the peaceful sort, not one to ever hold a grudge or suspect anything suspicious of anyone. However, I am only trying to look out for her, and she believes I have other motives.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s about Mr. Cooper,” Iris said, turning to him at last, her hands upon her knees. “He took an interest in Violet the moment he arrived here. It’s not that I don’t understand why. There is just something about him that seems rather suspicious, and then when I was listening yesterday, he was asking a great deal about her usual movements in a day as well as those of our guests. Violet says he is simply interested in her, but I am not sure I believe it.”
“He does ask a lot of questions,” August said, treading carefully, for he had no desire to enter into an argument between two sisters.
“Doesn’t he, though?” Iris said. “The moment I met him, something seemed off. The look he gave me, well, it was not what I am used to.”
“No?” August asked, a twinge of jealousy beginning to stir in his stomach. “And just what are you used to?”
Iris’ cheeks turned pink. “I do find that men are typically… interested in me,” she said, looking out at the sea for a moment. “Not that I need them to be, nor do I expect it. He, however, hardly looked my way. When he did, it was as though he was… mocking me.”
“Perhaps he simply has a different preference.”
“Of course he could,” Iris said, her eyes sparking. “It is just not the feeling I have. Violet thinks I am jealous that he would be interested in her instead of me, but of course, that is not the case.”
“He is a good-looking man,” August said, wondering if, perhaps, her sister had touched on the truth.
“That matters nothing!” Iris said vehemently. “Besides that… you know that it is you I far prefer.”
August regarded her for a moment. He wanted to believe her words, truly he did. But all she had just told him led him, for a moment, to question whether there was more to it. He couldn’t deny that Cooper also caused him to feel a slight bit of unease after his inquiries into August’s actions. Iris would know nothing about the war effort or what could be at play, however, so she could hardly have the same explanation. She was also a woman who enjoyed the attention of gentlemen. Perhaps she was becoming bored with him already.
“I’d like to think so,” he finally responded to her words, and she looked up at him, her eyes narrowing a touch.
“You sound as though you do not believe me,” she said, raising her voice ever so slightly above the wind and the sound of the waves beyond her.
He sighed, looking over her shoulder at the peaceful scenery beyond, his swirling emotions at war.
“I would like to believe you.”
“You do not?” she asked incredulously.
“Experience has told me that I should be careful,” he said slowly. “I am not saying that I do not trust you. You must understand, however, after the past, that I might be wary.”
Iris quickly came to her feet, her eyes stormy as she glared at him. “Why does no one believe anything I have to say?”
“I just explained—”
“It’s fine, I understand,” she said abruptly. “Apparently my own past speaks for me. I must go.”
“Iris—”
But it was too late. She was gone.
* * *
Iris ignored everyone she encountered as she ran into the inn and straight up to her bedchamber. She pulled out a piece of vellum and her pen and ink and began to scribble away. Daisy was too far away to help, but there was someone else to whom she could turn. And while her sister Daisy was practical, when it came to matters of the heart, she knew Marigold would know what to do. She had to — for Iris had no idea what her next action would be.
* * *
It was but a week later when Iris’ plea was answered.
She was sitting — alone — in the family quarters darning socks and had just pricked herself with the needle.
“Ouch!” she said as a bit of blood welled up, and she had brought her finger to her mouth when a knock on the door caused her to jump. “Who is it?” she called, her voice muffled.
The door opened to reveal Marigold standing there smiling at her, and Iris jumped up and raced toward her sister, enveloping her in a hug.
“Oh, Marigold, I am so glad to see you!”
Marigold laughed. “I do not think I ever would have anticipated such exuberance from you over seeing me at the inn,” she said. “But I’ll take it.”
Iris looked over her shoulder to see that the Marquess of Dorchester, Marigold’s husband, stood in the hallway looking as uncomfortable as he ever did. He was a rather gloomy sort, but Marigold loved him as much as he loved her in turn. While Iris didn’t understand the attraction and had taken some time to come to know Lord Dorchester, she was pleased about her sister’s marriage regardless.
Even if it meant that her sister now resided elsewhere.
“Hello, my lord,” she called with a smile, and Lord Dorchester nodded at her.
“I hope you are well, Iris,” he said, then looked between the sisters. “I shall go see that our things are unpacked.”
“Thank you, Jacob,” Marigold said, turning to him with a warm smile that Iris had also seen upon the face of her sister Daisy. It was a smi
le of love. A pang of pain suddenly cut through her chest. Would she ever know the same with a man? One man in particular? She blinked back the tears that threatened at the thought of being denied it, but when she turned to Marigold, she saw that her perceptive sister was aware that something was amiss.
And, well, there had been that letter.
“Come,” Marigold said, closing the door and then taking Iris’ hand to lead her back to the sofa. “Tell me what the trouble is.”
So Iris did. She told Marigold of Lord Westwood’s return, of the fact that she had feelings for him that she couldn’t shake, that Lord Westwood had been cuckolded by his fiancée and now, between his own experience and his knowledge of Iris’ past, wouldn’t trust her. She told Marigold of Thomas Cooper and his apparent connection with Violet, of her own suspicions, and how both Violet and Lord Westwood had reacted to them.
Marigold listened to it all with her usual reserved patience, simply nodding and allowing Iris to tell the tale.
“And now?” she asked, and Iris looked up at her with question.
“What do you mean?”
“Since this all happened,” Marigold said. “What has occurred since then?”
Iris shrugged and looked down at her finger. The tiny prick was unnoticeable, though she still had a crack in her knuckle from where it had connected with Ernest’s nose.
“Violet only speaks to me when necessary, and when she does, it is with extreme politeness. More than anything, I feel badly that I have hurt her, though in truth, Marigold, I was only looking out for her best interests — you must believe me.”
Marigold nodded. “I do.”
“And as for Lord Westwood… I apologized for reacting so dramatically, and we do converse but nothing is at all the same between us. It is nearly the same politeness that exists between me and Violet, and Marigold, you know that I am not one who responds well to such coldness.”
“No, you do not,” Marigold said, and Iris could tell she was doing all she could to keep from laughing at her but she let it go.
“So what do I do?” Iris asked helplessly. “How do I make everything right with Violet, how do I look out for her if she doesn’t want me to, and what do I do about all that I feel for Lord Westwood?”
Marigold took Iris’ hands in hers, and Iris felt comforted by the ocean of Marigold’s deep blue eyes that stared deeply into her own.
“Those are deep questions,” she said with a slight chuckle, and then she sighed. “I do wish Daisy were here to help us answer them.”
“She lives much farther away. Besides, I thought you might be more valuable, for this is a matter of the heart,” Iris said, and Marigold raised her eyebrows as she smiled at her sister.
“Oh, so I wasn’t your only option!” she teased.
“Well, I still chose you,” Iris said practically and Marigold waved a hand in the air.
“I am only jesting,” she said. “Now, as for your dilemma…” She paused for a moment in thought. “Violet will come around, you know that. None of us have remained angry at one another for long spans of time. I know you want to look out for her, Iris. That is quite lovely of you, but there is little you can do, as she is a grown woman now and a smart one at that.”
“But she is so innocent,” Iris protested. “And she is a romantic, always believing the best of people and sure that love will always win out, when in fact that is not always the case.”
She eyed her sister. “Which is not helped by the love that you and Daisy have found with your noble husbands.”
“For that, I will not apologize,” Marigold said. She sat back, contemplating Iris.
“What is it?” Iris asked.
“Do you truly think this Thomas Cooper is not to be trusted?”
“I’m sure of it,” Iris said. “I have no idea why, but I just feel it.”
“Well, you are usually right about these things,” Marigold said, tilting her head in contemplation. “I will ask Jacob his thoughts on the man as well. In the meantime, I see no problem in watching the two of them, but say no more to Violet as it will only further upset her.”
“That’s a good point,” Iris said. “As for Lord Westwood… what do I do?”
Marigold smiled. “That’s an easy one,” she said. “Just follow your heart.”
14
Follow your heart. They were the same words Iris had given Millie, but the advice somehow seemed more difficult when applied to herself. All Marigold had added was that Iris would understand when the time was right. Her words were far too cryptic for Iris’ liking. She would prefer someone to tell her something straight out, as she herself liked to receive information. But Marigold had been resolute.
At least her appearance had somewhat helped Violet warm up to her once more, as Marigold eased the strain between them. Iris was still careful to say nothing about Thomas Cooper, though she watched him carefully. There was, however, nothing untoward about his actions over the next couple of days.
Iris was dressing one morning when through her bedroom window she saw August walking down to the beach. She remembered when he first arrived he had told her how he was going to make such strolls into a daily habit. She hadn’t believed him at first, but here he was, weeks later, following through. He was a man of his word, something she appreciated.
Should she follow him this morning? No. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But Iris hated leaving anything unresolved, and perhaps it was best to simply have a discussion.
Dressed in one of her favorite morning dresses, a lavender creation — one she wouldn’t typically work in and therefore one of her betters — she stepped out the door of the inn. She saw that wasn’t the only one who’d had the idea to follow August. Thomas Cooper was walking ahead of her. What could he be up to?
She followed them along the beach, slowing when she neared them. The men had their backs to her now as they looked out at the ocean beyond.
“…afternoon, then?”
“That will be fine.”
“Excellent. I shall see you then.”
Iris took a step backward as Mr. Cooper then turned, coming to a sudden halt when he saw her standing there.
“Miss Iris,” he greeted her, causing August to turn around, his face remaining stoic when he saw her.
“Mr. Cooper,” she said, nodding when he continued on by her before she greeted August.
“August,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She wanted to ask him what he and Mr. Cooper had been speaking about, but she was aware that she had already caused enough havoc when it came to the man.
“Iris,” he responded, his hands clasped behind his back. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” she said, hating this stilted politeness between them. “And you?”
“Fine,” he said. “You must be pleased your sister is home.”
“Very much so,” she said, smiling before becoming wistful. “It’s funny. I encouraged her to look for love, to find a man to marry. I just never realized how much I would miss her until she left.”
“That is often the case,” he acknowledged. “We can be quite surprised.”
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing after what you went through.”
“Actually,” he said. “That wasn’t to what I was referring.”
“Oh,” Iris said, feeling her cheeks warm. “You… you do not say.”
“I do not,” he said, his expression much more serious than usual. “Iris, I’m not sure how much longer I will remain here, but at some point in time I will be returning to my life.”
“I know,” she said, a heavy weight in her chest at the thought.
“I do not like the way things have been between us over the past week or so,” he said, releasing his arms in front of him now. “I know you believe that I do not trust you. You must understand that it is more that I do not know how to trust again. But maybe… we need to try again. What do you think?”
<
br /> “I… am not entirely sure. I do wish for us to be friendly once more, but August, there is also the fact that I have never wanted to be a man’s second choice. When you were last here, you hardly even looked at me.”
He took her hands in his.
“I know that it might appear that way, and I understand, truly I do,” he said, looking down at where their hands were joined before returning to her face. “But Iris, to me, loyalty is paramount. In addition, what I have come to realize is that I was so fixated on what I thought was the path of my life, the woman I was to be with, that I lost sight of who she was and more fell in love with the idea of being married to her than the woman herself. With you… it is only you that I see. So what do you say? May we start over?”
Iris felt her heart melting at his words.
“I think we could try that,” she said, a slow smile breaking out on her face. “Truly I do. And as for Thomas Cooper…”
“He seems fairly harmless to me, though I must agree that there is something rather off about him,” August said. “Let me determine what that might be, all right?”
“How do you propose to do that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I have greater means to do so than you,” he said, releasing her hands and tapping her on the nose with an index finger. “I was a spy, remember?”
She did, though that didn’t make her any happier to leave the task to him when she knew she would likely have made as great a spy as had ever lived. She sensed, however, that now wasn’t the time to tell him of such a thought.
“Very well,” she said, “but do you promise to tell me of whatever you learn?”
“You know there is no reason I should have to do so, do you not?”
“Of course,” she said, “I am simply asking.”
“You are a difficult woman to deny,” he said with a sigh, then hesitantly reached a hand out in front of him. “Would you join me for my walk?”
“I would,” she said, smiling up at him as she twined her fingers with his, her heart practically glowing within her chest.
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