by Gill, Tamara
No one compared to Josh, and she knew no one ever would.
"I discovered the oddest thing the other day, my lord," Iris said as they lined up for a country reel.
"Really?" he queried, throwing her a benign smile. "Do tell me what you discovered. I'm always up for a good intrigue."
The musicians started to play, and the dance commenced. Iris moved and weaved about Lord Templedon, pleased that this dance at least allowed some conversation.
"I saw you on Piccadilly street the other day with Lady Sophie. I did not know that you were, in fact, cousins."
The smile on his lordship slipped a little at her words before he righted his countenance and was once more himself. Iris thought about that little slip. Whatever did it mean? Guilty conscience, perhaps?
"Distant cousins, Miss Cooper, but we are friends. We're family, after all. Blood must come before anything else and all that. Do you not agree?"
Iris could agree with that statement, of course. But did his blood kin to Lady Sophie mean they were in cohorts together to injure Iris in some way? Steal the duke from her?
She wasn't sure why she had this inkling, but the fact Lady Sophie had not reached out the hand of friendship since her betrothal announcement did make her question. Lady Sophie had wanted to be friends before, so why not after?
Was it because she wanted the duke for herself?
"Of course, that goes without saying," she said. "Please give my regards to Lady Sophie when you speak with her next and tell her I miss our chats. I thought we were becoming fine friends, but I have not spoken to her for several days now, not even when we attend the same balls. I hope I have not offended her in some way."
Iris watched Lord Templedon. He glanced about the room, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. "Of course not. I'm certain it is nothing but a coincidence that you have not conversed. I shall mention it to her. Ensure she calls on you soon."
Iris smiled, no longer caring if the friendship continued or not. She merely wanted both Templedon and Lady Sophie to know she had seen them, and her curiosity was spiked. "That would be most appreciated," she said, moving down the line of dancers, taking her from his lordship a moment before the dance brought her back again.
"Speaking of spying, I did see you as well out the other day, riding with the duke in Hyde Park. I did not think you would go there since, well, you know," he alluded, his eyes sparkling with malice. "It was where your accident occurred. I thought it quite harsh of His Grace to be so ignorant of your pain."
Spy? She had never spied on him as he was suggesting with his words. She had merely arrived at the bookstore and seen them. "That was a long time ago, my lord. I prefer to move forward in my life. I know Redgrove would wish that for me."
"Of course," he agreed. "You know, of course, that Redgrove was an acquaintance of mine and the duke’s. I only say this because I care for your emotional well-being. It must have been hard to lose your betrothed in such a foolish manner."
Iris frowned, uncertain of what he meant. "Redgrove took a turn too fast. There was no foolishness in his mistake. He made an error and paid dearly for it. We both did. But he was not acting the fool."
"Hmm, of course, Miss Cooper," he stated, disbelief written across his features as clear as a Cornwall night sky. What was the man trying to allude to? Did he know something that she did not of the accident?
The dance came to an end, and before she could ask, Lord Templedon had deposited her back with Josh and his mother. His sister having moved on to other acquaintances of theirs.
Josh placed her arm on his, holding her close. "I do not like you dancing with that rogue. He's not to be trusted."
She smiled at her fiancé, enjoying his public display of jealousy. "Templedon is no threat to you, Your Grace. No one is," she admitted, no truer words spoken.
His eyes darkened with promise, and Iris counted down the hours until she was abed and Josh could sneak in to see her. Would he come tonight? Was he game enough to steal upstairs and into her room?
Iris crossed her fingers, hoping her wish would come true and the ball passed quickly so they could leave.
Chapter 22
They returned to the house on Hanover Square in the early hours of the morning. The duchess had left them in the parlor downstairs after they had enjoyed a cup of tea before retiring for the night.
"I should let you rest," the duke said. He sat beside her, the dark shadows under his eyes telling Iris that he was as tired as they were. The Season was so busy, with endless late nights. It was not surprising that he would not be able to sneak into her room this morning.
"I understand. You should go and gain some yourself." Iris reached out, running her hand across his stubbled jaw. His beard tickled her palm. "I cannot wait until I have you beside me every night and morning. What fun we shall have then."
The duke chuckled, half-groaned before laying his head back against the settee. "I do not want to leave you. I would join you upstairs still, even with the house servants starting to go about their duties, but I will not have your reputation sullied. I will protect you at all costs. Even the cost to my ease since I want you so very much."
She leaned against him, laying her head upon his shoulder. "How much do you want me, Your Grace?" It could not be any more than she wanted him. The days stretched endlessly being without him. She wanted to be married to the duke and now. Not in three weeks.
He picked up her fingers and laid them against his falls. "I want you quite a lot. Do you not see?"
Iris stroked him through his satin knee-breeches. He hardened further in her hand, and heat spiked through her, circling down to her core. "When will I see you again?" she asked, not halting her teasing.
He covered her hand with his, increasing the tension. Iris crossed her legs, need pooling between her thighs. How she wanted him. This madness he had created in her was endless.
"Tonight. There is the Russell musical this evening. Cry off, say you have a headache, your courses, anything. I shall join you after eleven. My mother will be out by then and will not return for several hours."
Iris smiled, unable to count down the hours until she saw him again. She moved closer still and kissed him, touched and teased him as their mouths fused. His tongue tangled with hers, and she didn't want to wait until tonight. The man drove her to distraction.
He clasped her face, their kiss turning into a firestorm of need. Josh eased her back on the settee, coming over her. Their hands were everywhere, touching, petting, teasing until she could not take any more.
The cool morning air prickled against her legs as Josh slid her gown up about her waist, exposing her to him. He ripped his front falls open, his cock springing engorged and eager between them. Her face must have given away her thoughts.
"I will not take you here and now, but I will make you come." His thick, guttural voice made her insides clench, and she nodded, letting him do what he wished.
He could do anything to her right at this moment, and Iris did not think she'd say a word to stop him so long as he made her feel the pleasure she had last in his arms.
* * *
Josh glanced at the door, sitting slightly ajar. The servants could enter at any moment, or his mother if she were to do one final check on them before retiring.
None of that mattered. He had to have her. Well, as much as he could have her without actually taking her virginity. Josh pushed his cock against her wet, hot flesh. He moaned her name, running himself along her slick heat. Her eyes closed in pleasure, her legs lifting up about his hips and holding him against her.
He would spend on her. That was a certainty. The rioting, vigorous emotions, and the care he felt for the woman in his arms were new. She would be his soon, and they could do whatever they wanted whenever they pleased. No rules, no scandal could touch them then.
The word love reverberated about in his mind like a whistle.
He had never loved anyone. Not truly loved the way a man loved a woman. Something told Josh that wha
t he felt for the woman in his arms was not common. It was not something that one dispensed with or took for granted.
She ground against him, pushing up and taking what she wanted. He lost his breath, his balls pulling tight. His release was imminent, and he bit the inside of his mouth, forcing himself to hold off, to wait until she shattered in his arms.
Iris clasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him against her for a kiss, and he kissed away her scream as she climaxed against his cock, spiking his own pleasure.
He spent upon her mons and stomach with an orgasm that seemed to go on forever. If only that were so.
Being that they were in the parlor where anyone could come upon them, the morning light breaking through the heavy velvet blinds told him he was running out of time.
Josh untied his cravat and helped clean up Iris as best as he could. The little siren lay on the settee, watching him as he wiped away his seed, seemingly unfazed by the fact they were dancing with scandal.
He adored her all the more for her fortitude.
"Come, you had best leave for your room," he said, buttoning himself up and checking his attire before he left the parlor.
She sighed, but instead of leaving, draped her arms over his shoulders, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "I shall see you this evening, Your Grace," she whispered, kissing him quickly before turning on her heel and leaving him watching after her.
He clasped his stomach, his body rejecting the fact she was leaving him and that it would be several hours before he saw her again. Damn the rules of etiquette and their antiquated expectations for men and women.
He waited a suitable amount of time and then left via the back door, walking past the mews so no one would see him going a considerable amount of time after he had delivered his mother and betrothed home.
As he walked the short distance to his bachelor rooms, his stomach churned at the reminder of the missive he had received just before last evening's ball. The veiled threat the copy of his bet at Whites all those years ago meant.
Who had sent him his words, copied down to appear the same as the original page in the betting book he did not know. He suspected Templedon, but to steal such a thing from Whites would mean suspension.
Would he do such a thing? Templedon enjoyed his club. Or was someone else behind the threat? That he supposed he ought to find out or tell Iris of his wrongdoing before she heard it from an individual not himself.
She would never forgive him if she knew the truth, his cowardice in not owning up to his wrong. Nor would she marry him.
All facts he could not bear the thought of. Not now that she was his in all but name, his heart, body, and soul. Now and forever.
Chapter 23
Later that afternoon, Iris stepped into Gunter's Tea Shop on Berkeley Square and joined Lady Elizabeth Worthingham, Countess Muir for afternoon tea.
She sat midway in the shop and waved to Lady Muir when she entered the store. The countess started for her. Bussing both her cheeks in welcome, she said, "Miss Cooper, I'm sorry I'm running a little late. The traffic today was unmentionable."
Iris waved her concerns aside, happy to get to know Josh's sister and his family a little more. "Thank you for inviting me here. I have not been in Gunter's for some years. Not since my first Season, I believe."
"Really?" Her ladyship glanced about the room, catching the eye of an employee who started their way to serve them. "I come here all the time. The ices and sorbets are to die for."
Iris chuckled. "I will be sure to order them then."
"You should," Lady Muir said, studying her a moment. "I must say how happy I am that our darling little brother has finally found his heart. We were starting to worry he would never marry and forever be about our skirts."
Iris ignored her belief that Josh was marrying her because of love. No matter how much she longed that was the case, it was not. He did like her very much, and for now, that would have to do. Especially considering they had been caught in the throes of passion by his mother, and marriage was not negotiable.
Her mind conjured up this morning in the parlor and the exquisite pleasure he had wrought upon her body. She could only imagine and dream of what it would be like when they were together in the truest sense. What he would feel like within her, pushing her toward the type of release she already experienced in his hands, by his mouth and manhood.
Heat kissed her cheeks, and she sipped the lemonade placed before her.
"I am very happy," she admitted, and she was. More than she ever hoped to be, considering their betrothal was not the usual kind. Not that others needed to know such things. "The wedding plans are coming along well, and I believe the dowager duchess has everything in hand."
Lady Muir chuckled. "I have little doubt that Mama does." Her ladyship smiled. "Will you allow me to call you Iris? You may call me Elizabeth in return. We're to be family, after all. No need to stand on ceremony."
The hand of friendship, the kindness this family bestowed on Iris. She could not believe her fortune. "I would love it if you called me Iris. Thank you."
Elizabeth shook her head, spooning pink sorbet into her mouth. "I will admit I was concerned when Mama said she was sponsoring her friend's daughter, but after meeting you, I think it has been the loveliest gift to my mother all year. She misses us all now that we're married and settled elsewhere. I'm glad that you will be with Josh and Mama not too far away in the dowager house. When you have children, she will be kept younger still by having a purpose again. Helping you to raise your children. The ducal line."
"I hope we are able to have children, a son especially." The idea of a little Josh running about her skirts, rolling down green embankments of grass before the great Dunsleigh estate, made her long for things to come.
"Is it difficult having been in love before? I have only been blessed once with the emotion. I'm happy for you that you were able to find it a second time with my brother."
Elizabeth asked the question with no malice in her tone, and Iris thought about how to answer her. Her life now was so different from how it had been when engaged to Redgrove. She was younger, without any injuries impacting her life then. All her thoughts had been on marrying her first Season and not her second. No one wanted to be a wallflower. Redgrove had offered, he was polite and handsome, and she had said yes. She was no longer so agreeable. With the duke, everything was so different, but in a better way. More delicious and intense kind of way.
"While I cared for Redgrove, to my shame, I did not love him. We were friends and went along well enough together, but it was not a love match."
"Not like it is with my brother. How happy I am for you, dear," Elizabeth said, reaching out and patting her hand.
Love match? The statement startled her. Her union with the duke wasn't a love match either. Well, on the duke's behalf, it was not. Iris thought about the emotion, the kaleidoscope of feelings that bombarded her each time she was around His Grace.
Was she in love?
Had she fallen in love with her betrothed?
Surely not, and yet… Panic assailed her that Lady Muir may be correct. No, not maybe correct, was correct.
She loved him.
Elizabeth's mouth twisted into a knowing smile. "You did not realize, did you, Iris?" She picked up her tea, taking a sip. "It is obvious to those who share the emotion to recognize it in those about us, just as it is easy to spy a marriage that is not a happy union. I believe, and even if my brother has not spoken the words, he is in love with you also. It is as plain as day."
Elizabeth's words sent a thrill through her. Did Josh love her also? She clasped her stomach, her tummy roiling in glee. "Do you truly believe that?"
"Of course," Elizabeth said without hesitation. "He hangs about your skirts more than he used to hang around Mama’s when he was a boy."
Iris chuckled at the visualization the words brought forth before Elizabeth continued. "I've never known him to be at home so often during the Season, and as for when you are at balls a
nd parties, he does not like you dancing with others and takes every opportunity to be at your side."
But was that love? Iris knew they certainly lusted after each other but had they fallen for each other somehow in the middle of their hasty engagement?
"How do you know he does not like me dancing with other men?" Iris queried.
"I suggest you glance at your betrothed when you are next in the arms of another gentleman, and you shall see for yourself how put out he is when you leave him for another."
Iris nodded, determined to do that the next time they were out. How wonderful it would be that her husband did indeed love her. She had not thought to make a love match, and so to hear that the possibility that Josh loved her soothed any trepidations she had at marrying a duke.
"I will take notice, but he has not said anything to me. Do gentlemen usually state such a thing to their wives before or after marriage? Would it be unfashionable and crass to say it first?"
"Bless your sweet heart," Elizabeth stated, smiling. "If you feel what I suspect you do for my brother, there is no reason why a woman cannot take control of her life and speak the truth. Whatever will come of that declaration. But," she added, pushing away her now empty cup of sorbet, "I think you shall find the duke receptive of your words and will find they are returned in all haste."
* * *
Later that night, Iris lay in bed, having fibbed to the duchess that she had a headache, using the excuse of too much sugar from Gunter's Tea Shop that afternoon. She had been put to bed, and Iris made sure she had dismissed her maid for the night, just in case Josh did do as he said he would and sneak into her suite of rooms.
She dozed on and off, the idea that she loved the duke not quite real to her. She had not seen him all day, and she had certainly missed his company, but that did not mean she loved him.
Light footsteps sounded in the passage before the handle on her door turned, and a dark figure entered her room, snipping the lock behind them.
