An Earl for Iris

by St. Clair, Ellie

Iris jumped when her door opened, once more revealing her sisters.

  “What is the matter with the two of you?” she asked as Marigold’s dog, Clover, rushed into the room and jumped on the bed, licking Iris’ face. “Do you ever knock?”

  “Iris, I must speak with you immediately,” Violet said, and only then did Iris note that her sister’s cheeks were flushed, her dress untidy, and her hair unkempt. Iris reached out, pulling a twig from her sister’s golden-brown hair as she did so.

  “Violet, where have you been?”

  “That’s just it,” Violet said hurriedly. “I must tell you of what I have discovered.”

  “Go on,” Iris said, curious despite her current melancholy.

  “Well,” Violet said, then swallowed hard, her eyes dancing from side to side. “You were right.”

  “Of course I was,” Iris said indignantly, but then paused for a moment before asking, “about what?”

  “About Thomas Cooper,” Violet said, swaying back and forth from one foot to the other as her hands wrung together nervously. “He is not the man he declares himself to be.”

  “Aha, I knew it!” Iris said triumphantly, but then her exhilaration fled when she remembered Violet’s state. “What did he do to you?” she asked, already standing from the bed, prepared to defend her sister’s honor.

  “Nothing, he did nothing,” Violet said hurriedly. “That is, he did nothing to me.”

  “But…”

  “He has Lord Westwood.”

  “What?” Iris stared at her incredulously. “Whatever do you mean? And tell the story quickly, Violet, don’t make it into a novel.”

  Marigold frowned at her, but Iris didn’t care. She needed to know all that Violet did.

  “As much as I didn’t want to admit it, your suspicions about him remained on my mind, for you always do have a sense about people,” Violet said, twisting her fingers together as she held her hands in front of her. “And when I reflected on it, he did ask a lot of questions about our guests and the comings and goings and who they were. And he was awfully interested in your Lord Westwood.”

  “In August?” Iris repeated, and Violet nodded.

  “I overheard the two of them arranging a walk through the woods yesterday morning, and then the very next thing I knew Father was telling us that Lord Westwood had returned home. He only knew because Mr. Cooper had told him so and it seemed unlikely that all would happen so fast, so when Thomas— Mr. Cooper— went out late last night I… well, I followed him.”

  “Violet!” Marigold and Iris exclaimed at the same time, though Marigold’s voice was full of concern while Iris was more impressed than anything.

  “You could have been caught!” Marigold said, and while of course she was right, Iris had other concerns at the moment.

  “Where did he go?”

  “To that old cabin in the woods, just beyond the shore — the one you and your friends like to frequent,” she said to Iris, and Iris’ eyes widened.

  “Mr. Cooper went there?”

  “He did,” Violet nodded. “I could hear him speaking within. Oh, Iris, Lord Westwood is there, and I believe he is being held captive! When I heard Mr. Cooper speaking, he didn’t sound like he normally did.”

  “What did he sound like?”

  “He sounded like a foreigner. I think he spoke some French.”

  The three of them exchanged looks now as the implications of Violet’s words began to sink in.

  “He has Lord Westwood,” Iris said urgently, “we must go release him.”

  “It’s near midnight,” Violet said, her eyes wide, “and Mr. Cooper has returned to the inn.”

  “We cannot leave August!” Iris exclaimed, but Marigold placed a hand on her arm.

  “I understand, Iris, I do, but it will be difficult to find our way in the dark, no matter how well we know the lands. We will leave the moment the sun begins to rise, which is early enough now.”

  Iris chewed her lip, not happy with the idea but unsure of what else they could do.

  “Very well,” she sighed. “I shall get prepared as I do not think I shall sleep a wink.”

  “No one would in this circumstance,” Marigold said reassuringly. “I wish Jacob was still here, but he had to return home yesterday to see to a matter.”

  “That is fine,” Iris said confidently, “we can do this ourselves.”

  “What if there are others nearby who are helping Cooper?”

  “And what if we are wrong? We would look like fools chasing after a man who had simply left me behind.”

  “I believe he’s on his own. Who else would help a French spy?” Violet said, and Marigold finally agreed.

  Iris sat on her bed as her sisters left, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

  * * *

  Time continued to pass, however, as it always did, and soon enough Iris was dressed and waiting for her sisters downstairs. She heard no other movements in the house despite the number of times she checked to see if she could hear Cooper moving about within the guest quarters.

  Soon enough her sisters were down the stairs as well.

  They walked in near silence with the backdrop of the rising sun behind them, turning the sky a brilliant pattern of orange, yellow, and pink. But it was difficult to appreciate the scene as Iris’ stomach was in turmoil over what lay ahead of them.

  And then there was the other aspect to consider — that, if what Violet said was true, August hadn’t left her. It also didn’t mean that he had chosen to stay with her, for Iris still didn’t know his intentions, but he hadn’t left without saying goodbye, so perhaps… but that didn’t matter. Not now.

  She hadn’t wanted to think of the possibilities as she sat helpless in her room, but he could be hurt or… worse. The thought sent her heart racing and tears burned her eyes. Iris could hardly fathom the thought of a world without August. He had become too much a part of her heart. Even if he didn’t want to be with her, at least knowing that he was somewhere within the world was much better than the thought that he could be… gone.

  As branches slapped against her, Iris shook her head and blinked her tears away rapidly. She couldn’t think like that — not now. Not when August was likely alone in that shack, waiting whatever fate had in store for him.

  She pushed on, more determined than ever to save him and tell him just exactly how she felt.

  * * *

  August heard a thump from outside the door of the hunting shack, and he braced himself. He was so close to fraying the rope that bound his hands together. He had found an old nail protruding from one of the walls, and had scraped up his hands as he had spent the night backed against it, moving the rope up and down as he attempted to free himself.

  With one last great surge, he pulled his hands apart with as much force as he possibly could, and the rope finally snapped. He rubbed at his raw wrists, but as much as they pained him, the freedom had never felt so wonderful.

  He stood beside the door, prepared to tackle whoever came through it. He wished there was a window in this damn little cabin, but as it was, he had, at least, the element of surprise. August heard footsteps begin to climb the steps, and he grew worried as he realized there was more than one set.

  The door flung open and August launched himself toward the arrivals to attack. As he began to fall to the floor with the first body, however, he had to turn in mid-air, for he realized that this was certainly not Comtois nor any of his men. No, this was not a man at all, but rather—

  “Iris?” he cried out in shock as they landed in a heap on the floor, she thankfully on top of him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “That is hardly the way to address your rescuer,” she said indignantly as she stood, and he nearly laughed in spite of the situation.

  “My rescuer?”

  “Yes, well, along with my sisters,” she said, gesturing beyond him, and he turned to see Marigold and Violet standing at the door. He nodded to them.

  “Ladies.”

&n
bsp; “Lord Westwood, whatever happened here?” Marigold asked, but he shook his head.

  “There will be time for that later. Come, we must—”

  “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  They all turned nearly as one to see that Comtois was striding up the steps now, a pistol outstretched in his hand, which he pointed at each of them in turn.

  “It is truly a fête now, is it not? Bonjour, Violet, mon amour.”

  He reached out as though to stroke her cheek and Violet recoiled away from him, her face twisted into one of disgust.

  “Ah, ma petite Violet, you truly thought I was interested in you, did you not? You should have listened to your sister when she told you I was not to be trusted. But, alas, here you are, about to succumb to the same fate as the rest of them. If you were a different woman, Miss Iris, you would have believed the note I left for you. But alas, you would never believe a man would leave you, could you? You ladies should not have left the comfort of your inn. Trust me, Lord Westwood is not worth it.”

  “It’s true,” August said, walking over to Comtois and standing in front of his pistol so that Iris and her sisters were shielded. “You shouldn’t have come, Iris. None of you should have.”

  Iris looked pained at his words.

  “I would come for you, August, over and over again, regardless of the outcome.”

  He looked back at her over his shoulder, blinking away the sudden prick of tears at her words. He managed a weak smile before returning to Comtois.

  “Let them go,” he said. “They are not what you came here for.”

  “They know too much,” he said. “Unfortunately, their fate is sealed.”

  He cocked the hammer of the gun, lifted it to August’s head, and smiled.

  17

  August held Comtois’ gaze, doing all he could to keep his attention as Iris slowly rounded to the other side of the Frenchman. He had no idea just what she was planning to do, but he had to trust her — and he did. He could hardly believe that she and her sisters had come after him — alone. Perhaps not the best idea, but brave, nonetheless. What kind of women were these?

  “I have one last request,” August said.

  “Very well,” answered Comtois, “this should be interesting.”

  “It is, I promise you that,” said August. It took everything in him to not look in Iris’ direction but he could sense her movement.

  He cleared his throat. “As it is, I would like—”

  Smack came the sound of a piece of wood — one he hadn’t noticed in the dim light, but then, she knew this place far better than he did — connecting with the back of Comtois’ head. He tumbled to the floor as Iris looked at August with a huge smile of satisfaction on her face.

  “That should do it,” she said.

  August had no words. He crossed to her in two large steps, rounding the unconscious Comtois, took Iris’ face within his hands, and kissed her long and hard. He heard her sisters gasp and giggle slightly behind him, but he didn’t care whatsoever as he plundered her lips and her soft, enthusiastic mouth with his.

  A sound arose behind him, but it took August a moment longer than it should have to register. Fortunately, the Tavners sisters were quicker than he was, and Violet had scooped up the pistol in her hand.

  Ernest Abernathy walked through the door, and August was shocked to see that he was not alone.

  “Ridlington?” he said, puzzled, as one of the other boarders appeared behind Abernathy, whose hands were tied and a knife held at his back.

  “Lord Westwood,” said the tall man, who tilted his hat back to look at them all. “Glad to see you are all right.”

  “What are you doing here?” August asked.

  “General Dobbins sent me to Southwold to look out for you,” he said. “Though it seems these women did my job for me… I found this fellow was approaching the cabin, ready to assist your French friend here.”

  “Why?” Iris demanded, her disgust growing as she looked at Abernathy. “While you have the worst character of anyone I know, I never would have thought you to be a traitor to your country.”

  “It wasn’t my country,” Ernest sneered. “What mattered was taking out the fancy lord who had stolen your affections. I am nobody’s fool.”

  “You are your own fool,” Iris said, turning her nose up at him, and August loved her all the more for it.

  “We’ll take these two back to town and find somewhere to leave them until we can summon additional help from the Crown,” Ridlington said. “If that works for you, Westwood.”

  “Absolutely,” August said, shaking the man’s hand. “Away we go.”

  It was quite the party that arrived in Southwold and many of the villagers emerged to watch them walk by, as though they were a parade marching through. Violet looked like she wanted to hide, but Iris seemed was clearly enjoying herself. August could only smile. He reached over and quickly squeezed her hand before securing their prisoners in the stable, though he couldn’t wait until he would see her again.

  * * *

  Iris had never been more thankful for Marigold.

  The family was seated around their sitting room, discussing all that had occurred. Their father was livid, their mother beside herself.

  Marigold was, thankfully, a calming presence, and had managed to have the family sit down to discuss all that had happened in a rational manner.

  Only now that they knew all, their parents were once again becoming upset.

  “How could those men involve women — my daughters! — in such activities? It’s unheard of. I am shocked. Shocked, I tell you! Although,” Elias grumbled, not looking any of them in the eye, “I am rather proud of all of you as well.”

  Iris smiled wide until their mother began again.

  “You could have been injured — or worse!” She wrung her hands together. “What would we have done if something had happened to you?”

  “Hired more maids?” Iris said wryly, which only caused tears to begin to run down her mother’s face.

  “Is that what you think, that we only care about you in regard to your work around here? Oh, Iris, we love you all so much, and couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to you!”

  “Mother,” she said, tears beginning to form in her own eyes, chagrined at her hasty words. “I’m sorry.”

  Her mother moved in to embrace her, and soon enough the three sisters and their mother were all hugging and crying.

  “I wish Daisy were here!” Alice said, and Iris stepped back, wiping the tears.

  “Soon enough, she will come to visit,” Iris said. “Not to worry.”

  “I know,” Alice replied, her voice watery. “It’s just… my girls are all marrying and going away, and as happy as I am, I didn’t realize how sad I would be as well.”

  “I’m still here, Mother,” Violet said before her voice turned heated. “And it seems I likely will be for a very long time, for the only man who seemed interested in me was a French spy who was using me for information. Oh, how could I be so stupid?”

  “You are not stupid, Violet,” Iris said firmly. “He was trained to do such a thing. I’m sure you are not the first who was so captivated by a handsome man with sweet words and charm. I have certainly been a victim of such as well.”

  “But Lord Westwood loves you!” Violet protested, her words now capturing the attention of their parents as well.

  “Lord Westwood?” her father said, his chest puffing out now. “Well, then. Another lord for my daughters!”

  “I’m not so sure,” Iris said. “I may have just been a diversion to his boredom here, and that is all.”

  “I don’t think so,” Marigold said with a soft smile. “In fact, I think he just may have something to say to you.”

  She nodded toward the door, and they all looked up to see August standing in the doorframe, a smile on his face, but his weight was shifting back and forth between his feet as though he was awkwardly intruding.

  “Come in, son,” Elias sa
id, causing Iris to cringe, and August stepped in the door.

  “I apologize for any danger I brought onto your family, Mr. Tavners,” he said. “I had been assured my identity would be safe here, but apparently I was followed from London. It seems I don’t make much of a spy.”

  “Nonsense,” Iris’ father said. “I made the arrangement with the Crown, so I was well aware who was coming to the inn and what the consequences might be.”

  August nodded, though he still seemed upset.

  “General Dobbins will be arriving in a day or two to see to the prisoners,” he said. “Then all will be out of your way.”

  “And you?” Iris couldn’t help but ask, “will you be going as well?”

  “That remains to be seen,” he responded. “Would you… would you walk with me for a moment, Iris?”

  “Of course,” she said, her heart beating rapidly as she rose. She felt her family’s gazes upon her but didn’t say anything as August took her arm and they walked out of the room.

  “Let’s go outdoors,” Iris said. “I could use some air.”

  They stepped outside onto the sand, and as soon as they were out of eyesight of any window, August abruptly pulled her close against him.

  “My God, Iris,” he said. “I can hardly believe what you did. When I saw that gun trained on you…”

  He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead in against hers. She placed her hands on his chest, her fingers gripping his shirt.

  “I could hardly bear to think of what I would do were anything to happen to you.”

  He took her face within his broad fingers and leaned back, his warm brown eyes boring into hers. She bit her lip and blinked.

  “I know I haven’t been good to you, Iris. I looked you over for another woman, I didn’t trust you for no fault of your own. And yet you remained with me, you believed in me, you gave me another chance. You risked your life for me. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You do what you feel is best for other people, you speak your mind, and nothing frightens you. Iris… I do not know what kind of life I am going to lead or what I have to offer you. I have no idea if I will have the ability to return home, or if I must go into hiding somewhere else. But I must ask… will you go with me? Will you wait for me if you must?”