by Eva Shepherd
‘I know Lady Redcliffe hurt you,’ she continued. ‘But you don’t need to continue to punish yourself for the way she treated you. None of it was your fault and you deserve to be happy and to live a full life.’
His chest tightening, his breath caught in his throat. ‘You’re right,’ he gritted out through clenched teeth. ‘It is not your place to give an opinion, and I’d appreciate it if in future you would keep them to yourself.’
‘I just...’
‘Yes, you just,’ he hissed. ‘You just want to make everything better, make everyone happy, make the world a place full of sunshine and joy.’ He cut her off before she could impart any more of her unwanted advice or misguided opinions.
‘No, I just...’
‘Now that you have finished telling me how I should live my life and how I should be feeling, I think you should go and join that coven of women who have invaded the blue drawing room.’
Before she could speak again, he grabbed the bell and rang it hard and long.
‘You rang, my lord,’ Charles said, presumably an ironic comment as his master was still shaking the bell vigorously.
‘Yes, Charles,’ he said, placing the bell back on the table with a decisive clunk. ‘Lady Iris is leaving now. Please show her to the blue drawing room, as it is past time that she, her mother and that organising committee departed.’
‘Very good, my lord.’
Max’s tail started thumping as Lady Iris patted him on the head and said goodbye. Although that was a pleasantry she reserved for the dog alone. When the door shut behind her, Max emitted a little whimper.
‘Oh, don’t you start,’ he said to his dog. ‘You were content enough before she came along. You don’t need her in your life, so just get over it.’
Max settled down at his feet but continued with his sad whimpering.
Chapter Twenty
Iris had no regrets over what she had said to Theo Crighton. No, that wasn’t entirely true. She did regret ruining the companionship they had shared throughout the day. And she regretted that he had pushed her away. But still, if she could take back time she would still have said everything that she had said to him. Someone needed to.
It broke her heart that he was wasting his life, locked up in his castle. He was a good man and he deserved to have a good life, to be loved and to be in love. It wasn’t going to be her he loved—that was becoming increasingly obvious—but he did deserve to meet someone and that wasn’t going to happen if he never left his home, and never let anyone close to him. Nor was it going to happen if he continued to cling to his love for Lady Redcliffe. It made her seethe every time she thought of that woman. Not because the Earl loved her—well, not just because the Earl loved her—but because she did not deserve his love, not after the way she had treated him.
She entered the blue room and her mother looked in her direction, her face expectant. Iris gave a small shake of her head and her mother shrugged and went back to discussing whether they should have a skittles competition at next year’s fête and whether donkey or pony rides for the children should be included.
Iris sat quietly in the corner while the animated discussion continued and was soon joined by her smiling lady’s maid. Annette appeared to have had more success in her romantic pursuits than Iris had, although, as they would soon be returning to London, Annette also was about to experience disappointment.
When the discussion finally came to an end, with no resolutions to the various contentious issues, only an agreement to meet again for further talks, the women gathered themselves up to leave.
They all headed off down the hallway to say goodbye to the Earl, still arguing about donkeys versus ponies. Iris’s mother suggested that Iris join them. When she declined her mother sent her a questioning look.
‘I’ve already said goodbye. It would look a little odd if I went back in and said goodbye again,’ she explained to her unconvinced mother, but she followed on behind and waited outside the door, while the other women gushed over the Earl, telling him how grateful they were, what a success the day had been, and hinting that it should happen again next year.
The terse replies from the Earl suggested his bad humour had not improved, but the ladies were undaunted and their spirits were just as high when they left his drawing room and fluttered off towards their waiting carriages.
‘A very satisfying day, all round,’ Lady Walberton said as she, Iris and her mother climbed into their carriage for the return journey.
‘It was an excellent idea to host the fête at the Earl of Greystone’s home,’ Lady Walberton continued. ‘And he did seem to be enjoying himself today.’ She smiled at Iris. ‘And I believe we have you to thank for that. I think the Earl is quite taken with you.’
Iris forced herself to smile back.
‘Hopefully, that means he’s put his past behind him and is now ready to re-enter Society, and maybe we’ll be having a wedding in the county soon.’
Iris continued to smile, even though her jaw was now starting to hurt, while the satisfied Lady Walberton’s smile beamed out, encompassing both Iris and her mother.
When they reached the house, Iris’s mother took her arm and with great haste rushed her up the stairs to her bedroom. The fête wasn’t the only thing that needed to be discussed, picked over and analysed. Her mother wanted to know everything that had happened between her and the Earl when they had been alone together in the drawing room, everything that had been said, and every gesture he had made.
Iris tried to repeat everything that had happened, what she had said, what the Earl had said, and in what tone. ‘I’m afraid I undid any good will between us that had been built up during the fête, and now it’s a rather hopeless cause,’ Iris said when she’d finally relayed the entire conversation to her mother.
‘Not necessarily,’ her mother replied, her lips pursed in concentrated thought.
Iris had to admire her mother’s optimism, even if it was a bit misplaced. But then, she hadn’t been the one to be ejected from the Earl’s drawing room.
‘He kissed you and he was thoroughly enjoying your company today,’ her mother said. ‘We just need to contrive some more ways to put the two of you together so he can see how much in love with you he really is.’
Iris couldn’t help but sigh. ‘Mother, we’ve already stayed an extra three weeks at Lady Walberton’s. We can hardly move in permanently.’
Her mother waved her hand in front of her face as if that was no problem. ‘I’m sure Lady Walberton will not mind in the slightest.’
‘But what about the rest of the family? What about the rest of the Season? I’ve got no interest in attending any further balls, but Daisy might want to, and someone needs to accompany her. And surely Father is missing you.’
‘Getting your sister to attend a ball is becoming an almost impossible feat, so I’ve all but given up on that, and should a miracle happen your brother can escort her. And your father can always come down here and visit us. No, I sense that a marriage to the Earl is imminent, so we shouldn’t give up now when it’s all so close.’
‘But he doesn’t love me,’ Iris said, despair in her voice.
‘Yet,’ her mother replied emphatically. ‘He doesn’t love you yet, Iris, always remember that. Some men just take a bit more persuading than others. Your father was such a man and so is the Earl.’
Iris collapsed down onto her bed while her mother paced back and forth, thinking of strategies to turn a heart of stone into one that was warm and cuddly. Something that was much more of a conundrum than whether one should have donkey or pony rides at a fête.
‘Perhaps we need to host a ball, here at the Walbertons’. Or maybe if we—’
‘No, Mother,’ Iris cut in. ‘I know you mean well, but there’s no point. You can’t make a man love you. He either does or he doesn’t. And the Earl most decidedly doesn’t.’
‘But your father, he thought he didn’t...’
‘No, Mother, you’re wrong. Father would have fallen in love with you no matter what. I’m sure, no matter what you think, the moment he met you he was smitten. It’s different with the Earl. This is all just a waste of time, and frankly rather embarrassing.’
‘Oh, my dear,’ her mother said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘I never intended to upset you.’ She wiped away the tear that had inexplicably appeared on Iris’s cheek. ‘If it’s upsetting and embarrassing you, then of course I’ll stop.’
‘And can we just return to London and forget all about this?’
Her mother gave her a long, appraising look. ‘If that is what you wish, my dear, what you really, really wish?’
‘It is,’ Iris said, nodding with determination. It wasn’t entirely what she wanted but it was what she was going to have to accept. Despite her mother’s claims, she knew that a man could not be forced to fall in love. And she was also certain that she did not want a man’s love if he had to be tricked and cajoled into giving it. It was better just to accept the reality that Theo Crighton, the Earl of Greystone, was not in love with her and there was no amount of fêtes, balls, picnics or whatever that would change that.
* * *
Theo raged, and he fumed, and he argued repeatedly with her in his head. Who did she think she was? Coming into his life, trying to change everything, trying to change him? Did she think one kiss gave her the right to tell him how he should live his life? Well, it didn’t, and thank goodness he had put her straight about that.
Since he had all but ejected her from his house, he had heard nothing from Lady Iris or her interfering mother. He had expected more unwanted invitations, more veiled threats that if he didn’t attend this or that social event he would be strong-armed into a marriage he didn’t want. But no invitations came. The blackmailing appeared to have ceased.
Good. Finally, both mother and daughter had got the message. Life could return to normal. All he needed now was to get her out of his head and he would be free of her.
He resumed pacing up and down, all those ridiculous things she had said running repeatedly through his mind.
‘Hiding away,’ he said out loud. He turned and walked back along the well-worn track down the middle of his drawing room.
How dare she tell him he was hiding away? How dare she call him a coward?
He paused in his walking. No, she hadn’t actually said that, had she? She’d said he wasn’t a coward. But she had said he had been hiding because he needed to heal, as if he were some sort of sick animal. He resumed his pacing. How dare she compare him to an injured animal?
He clenched his teeth together tighter, his jaw aching from tension, tension that little miss Lady Iris had caused him. He hadn’t been tense like this before she’d come bursting into his life. She might be right that he hadn’t been particularly happy, and perhaps he hadn’t been content either, as he had claimed, but at least he hadn’t had all this pent-up tension inside him, making his muscles ache and his thoughts a whirl of confusion. She alone was responsible for that. Before she had washed up on his doorstep, wet from the storm, he hadn’t paced his room, he hadn’t ranted and raved to himself like some demented madman.
And then just as suddenly as she had appeared, she disappeared from his life.
‘Good riddance,’ he muttered to himself. He was much better off without her coming in and giving her unwanted opinions on the way he lived his life.
Or had she returned to London? His pacing stopped. Had she gone back to the social flurry of balls, parties, the theatre, picnics and heaven only knew what other activities she should be filling her days and nights with? No doubt she was shining at them all, being fawned over by a coterie of men such as Lord Pratley. Well, they were welcome to her. And she was welcome to that lifestyle if that was what she wanted. But it was not for him. And how dared she think that it was? Just because she wanted to fill her own days with frivolous laughter and entertainment, it did not mean he did as well.
He recommenced walking the well-trodden path down the middle of his drawing room, then came to a sudden stop. And at these parties, balls and picnics, was she giving her kisses to some other man? Was some other man unleashing that untapped passion he had experienced when he had taken her in his arms? Was some other man holding her tightly, feeling her soft body pressed against his?
His hands clenched into fists so tight the nails dug into his flesh. Why should he care what she was or wasn’t doing, who she was or wasn’t kissing? Some other poor dupe could be blackmailed into marrying Lady Iris by that conniving mother for all he cared. At least he was safe from that dreaded fate.
Yes, it was all for the best that she was back in London, away from him, and trying to trap some other poor sap into marriage. No, that was unfair. She had never tried to trap him into marriage, and if she had wanted to she most certainly could have. And her mother could also have made him marry the girl, not merely host a fête.
But it was still good that she had gone, back to her life, and out of his.
He turned around and paused. Not that he knew for certain that she had returned to London. For all he knew she could still be staying with the Walbertons.
Hadn’t the mother mentioned they were staying another month? That time had nearly passed, but they had extended their visit once before, and there was no reason why they couldn’t extend it further. Lady Iris might still be staying within walking distance of his home, and he could be subjected to another unwanted and uninvited visit at any moment.
Perhaps he should find out, just to put his mind at rest. He could walk over to the Walbertons’ and find out once and for all whether or not she had left the county. Then he could put all thoughts of her out of his mind and know for certain that he was never again going to be pestered by her or her mother.
Max would enjoy the walk and he could do with some exercise himself. That might be the perfect remedy for all this excess energy that was coursing through his body. He knew the path well enough and, with Max at his side, finding his way shouldn’t present any problems.
Yes, that was what he would do. He rang the bell to summon Charles.
‘Fetch my hat, coat and cane,’ he said with new-found determination. ‘I’m going to take Max out for a walk.’
‘Very good, my lord,’ Charles replied. ‘But you have a visitor. Should I send her in first?’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘What?’ Theo asked, even though he had heard Charles clearly.
Charles coughed slightly. ‘It’s Lady Estelle Redcliffe, my lord.’
As if his lungs had been punctured, Theo’s held breath escaped and he gasped in another.
‘Please show her in, Charles,’ he said, surprised that his initial shock quickly changed to disappointment. He had expected Lady Iris, but how could he possibly be disappointed? He had waited for this moment for six years. When Charles left, he walked across to his chair, grabbed his jacket, pulled it on and waited.
The last time Lady Redcliffe had been in his house she had still been an unmarried woman, and he’d been happily anticipating their wedding, their honeymoon in Italy and their future together.
It had been a different time and he had been a different man. And now she would see what he had become. A pitiful invalid, a recluse, a man who had never recovered from the pain of her desertion. A man who, as Lady Iris had said, had hidden himself away to tend his wounds, too broken to return to Society.
‘Theo, it’s so good to see you again.’ Her voice was just the same. Just as light. Just as carefree and musical. It was a voice that had once entranced him.
‘Lady Redcliffe,’ he responded with a low bow.
‘I’m so sorry to come uninvited but I was sure you wouldn’t mind. Are you going to ask me to sit down?’
He gestured to the chair beside the fireplace, the one th
at had been placed so Lady Iris could get close to the fire when she had arrived at his house wet and bedraggled. The one she had sat in when she had questioned him about the way he lived his life. The chair from which he had all but ejected her and then made it plain he did not want to see her again.
‘I’m visiting neighbours of yours, so I thought I couldn’t possibly not come and see you while I was so close by,’ she said as she sat down.
Theo wondered whether he should point out that she did not live so very far from him and had managed to avoid visiting him for the last six years. Six years when he had desperately hoped that she would come.
‘You are most welcome, Lady Redcliffe,’ Theo said, unsure if that was still the truth.
‘Oh, please, call me Estelle, and please, sit down. Or do you require some assistance?’ He heard the rustle of her skirt as she stood up.
‘No, I’m perfectly capable,’ he said, taking the seat opposite her.
‘Yes, you are, aren’t you?’ She paused, as if taking the time to assess him. ‘And it was so good to see you again at the Walbertons’ dinner party and I hope you were pleased to see me as well.’ She paused again, then laughed. ‘Well, you couldn’t actually see me, could you, but you know what I mean.’
He suppressed his irritation at her attempt at humour and merely nodded in acknowledgement.
‘It is good to see you again, Theo. You are looking well, I must say. Much better than I would have expected.’
She moved in her seat, satin crinkling. ‘But you always were a handsome man and the scarring is hardly noticeable now.’ Her voice was now closer to him as she leaned forward. ‘It’s nowhere near as bad as I had been led to believe.’
‘I have no idea how bad my scarring is. As you pointed out, I can’t see.’ Why he should be so irritated by Lady Redcliffe he had no idea. Was he such a curmudgeon that he couldn’t even stop himself from being annoyed with the woman he had once loved to distraction? A woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the last six years. He revised that thought. She was no longer on his mind quite so much. For the last few weeks Lady Iris had also intruded on his thoughts, often driving out all memories of the woman to whom he had once pledged his undying love.
