by Eva Shepherd
Once again she caught Lady Redcliffe’s eye, and once again Iris quickly looked away as if being caught doing something shameful.
The footmen removed their plates, the dessert was served and with relief Iris turned back to the Earl.
‘So I hear that you have teeth as white as snow and they are as straight as something unimaginable,’ he said, causing Iris to smile. She looked over at Lord Pratley to make sure he hadn’t heard.
‘I’m starting to build up an interesting picture of you,’ the Earl continued. ‘You have eyes like sapphires, a strawberry for a mouth, skin like a rose and teeth like snow. You’re quite an unusual-looking woman, I must say.’
Iris started to giggle. This really was rather rude but also rather funny. His voice was still stern, and she wasn’t sure if he was joking or merely being rude and mocking Lord Pratley, but it was funny all the same. Iris had an image of herself with stones for eyes, strawberries for lips and a mouthful of snow.
‘It could be worse,’ she added quietly. ‘I could have teeth as yellow as buttermilk.’
‘Which might be better than teeth like borage and skin the colour of claret and the texture of a strawberry.’
Iris put a hand to her mouth to stop her laughter from getting louder. Now she was sure he was joking, or at the very least making fun of Lord Pratley and his pretentious attempts to woo her.
‘Your mother was right,’ he continued. ‘You are an unsurpassed beauty, or, at least in Lord Pratley’s opinion, you’re an unsurpassed collection of random pieces from the natural world.’
Just as Iris was starting to relax and enjoy herself, Lady Redcliffe’s laughter again cut through the air, louder and more forceful than before, destroying the light moment they had been sharing. She looked along the table and saw the Countess was staring straight at them. While she was smiling as if she was having the most delightful time, her eyes were boring straight into Iris, and they most certainly were not smiling.
This was all very peculiar. What was wrong with the woman? She was no longer engaged to the Earl, was married to someone else. It was obvious to Iris that she was deliberately trying to draw the attention of the Earl, but why? She was a married woman, for goodness’ sake. Why did she find it necessary to play these games? Why did she wish to toy with the Earl?
As intended, the Earl too had heard the laughter and that now familiar frown had returned. Iris wanted to tell him just to ignore her. She wanted to tell him that she was sure Lady Redcliffe was merely toying with him. But she knew nothing of the Earl’s past, knew nothing about what had happened between him and Lady Redcliffe, knew nothing at all really about the Earl, except that he lived in an ancient home, had a dog called Max, was a recluse and had experienced at least one nightmare.
Oh, and that he looked rather magnificent when he was less than formally attired, but the last one was something she really should not know.
The dessert plates were removed and Lady Walberton stood up to announce that the ladies should leave the men to their brandy and cigars. With much scraping of chairs everyone around the table rose. The ladies lined up according to rank and in a straight line exited the dining room. Before she left Iris took a backwards glance at the Earl, and a surprising sense of loss washed over her. He hadn’t wanted to attend this dinner party, and there was no denying it had been a fraught one. She just hoped he had at least enjoyed the time they had spent talking together. Iris knew that she certainly had.
Chapter Fourteen
‘You and Lady Iris seem to be getting on rather well,’ Lord Pratley said when the rustle of the women’s gowns had died down and the door had shut behind them.
‘Yes,’ was Theo’s terse reply.
‘You know she’s my almost intended,’ Pratley added.
Theo was tempted to point out to him that there was no such thing as an almost intended, but what was the point? If Lord Pratley was in pursuit of Lady Iris, it was hardly any concern of his.
‘She’s been out now for several Seasons and I’ve finally got my chance to do what so many other men have tried to do and failed,’ Pratley continued. ‘And it would be bad form for any man to do anything to upset another man’s chances. Don’t you agree, Greystone?’
The brandy decanter was passed his way. He poured himself a drink and stifled a bored sigh. ‘I dare say that would be the case, if the man actually did have a chance.’
‘Now, steady on, Greystone.’
‘I’m not your competition, Pratley,’ Theo said, swirling the brandy in his glass and savouring its rich aroma.
‘Well, I should hope not, but I could see the way Lady Iris was looking at you. If it had been pity I could see on her face I would have understood—after all, she does have a compassionate nature—but it wasn’t like that. She actually appeared to be rather taken with you. So I’d appreciate it if you did nothing to encourage the girl’s attentions.’
‘Believe me, I have done nothing to encourage Lady Iris.’
‘Good. After all, she’s a bit wasted on you, isn’t she, old boy?’ The Viscount chuckled at his own joke. ‘She’s a damn fine woman to look at and you can’t actually see her, can you?’ He chuckled again, as if Theo’s blindness was a source of great amusement. ‘You’re hardly in a position to appreciate just what a beauty she is. She was the best available in her first Season, and no one yet has been able to outshine her, that’s for sure. Whereas, for you, it hardly matters now whether she’s a looker or not.’
Theo gripped his glass tighter, then swallowed his brandy along with his anger. He tried to focus on the burn of the rich liquid as it moved down his throat while attempting to blot out the insulting nonsense Pratley was spouting.
‘You don’t need her dowry either, do you?’ the Viscount continued, either oblivious of or unconcerned by the offence he had just given. ‘Which, between you and me, is rather a generous one. Nor do you need her father’s contacts, as I hear tell you live like a hermit these days. So, you should leave her to someone who can fully appreciate all that she has to offer.’
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 thi
s 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.’
