“You have to start at the beginning.”
She took a deep breath and tried to rid her mind of the kiss. She did not have time to muddle this current assignment with a girlish fancy for the roguish Lord Ashby. Especially since he was the man responsible for her brother’s disastrous behavior.
Iris detailed the events of the evening. How she’d arrived and given him her proposal that she be the one he transform into a gentleman, and how he’d eventually agreed. “That is when he came back into the room with a measuring tape. He obviously couldn’t allow his tailor to measure me, else risk my secret.” She paused for a moment. “A man is measured quite differently than we are for our gowns.” If she said more, gave the true details, she would scandalize sweet Harriet.
“It was nothing but a plot to frighten me, that much was evident. But I will not play such foolish games. Not when my brother is at stake.” She sat upright and eyed her friend. “Besides, he’d been close to giving up. I feel certain I can persuade him to relent before this wager gets out of hand.”
“Are you certain? It seems that your virtue might be in danger, as well as your general reputation,” Harriet said.
“I’m positive. I know what I am doing. I’ll prove to him how erroneous and dangerous his advice to gentlemen is. Then he’ll apologize, and hopefully all of this will happen before Jasper ruins his life.”
“I sincerely hope you are right.” Harriet paused for a moment. “What was the kiss like?”
“Quite nice, actually.”
Then they both laughed.
“I will make certain to inform Lord Ashby the next time we speak that kissing me will not frighten me away. I am dedicated to this task, and he will not deter me with his would-be seductions.”
Just then her brother passed the parlor door as he walked down the corridor.
Iris jumped up and ran into the corridor. “Jasper!” she called, but he kept walking.
Oh, but he was infuriating when he ignored her that way. Just as he’d done with their mother when they’d been small. Her mother had always seemed so unflappable, though. Yet Iris had not been able to manage in such a way. She wasn’t his mother, and Jasper knew that. Technically, he was the head of the household now, even though Iris was seven years older.
She caught up with him as he climbed the staircase.
“Jasper,” she said, her breath thick from exertion. “I am pleased to see you made it home in one piece after last night.”
His head tilted so he could see her face. “I always make it home safely. You shouldn’t worry so, Iris. Life is intended to be enjoyable.”
“Well, some of it, but certainly not every moment.”
He smirked. “Spoken like a true spinster.” Then, as if he realized what he’d said, his features softened. “You know I’m jesting.”
“Of course.” She forced a laugh, but it was the truth. Regardless, his words stung. She was a spinster. Case in point—she was five and twenty and she’d just had her first kiss and it had frightened her. “Do be careful.” She turned away from him then, unwilling to let him see her cry. She didn’t wish to cry at all, but the blasted tears came anyway. Through clouded vision, she found her way back to the parlor and Harriet’s side.
“Oh, Harriet, tell me that someday Jasper will marry and his wife will take care of him. Tell me that eventually I’ll get to travel and have a life of my own.”
“He will. You know I believe you shall marry, too. You are far too pretty to remain single forever. You merely need to meet the right man.”
Instead of arguing with her friend’s silly fantasy, Iris squeezed her hand. Harriet was ever the optimist. But Iris had decided long ago that she never wanted to fall in love and marry. She’d seen her mother after her father died. Her parents had been a charming couple, the sort that other people wanted to be around. Their love for one another was obvious to everyone who met them. When her father had died suddenly from a fever and cough he couldn’t rid himself of, her mother had dissolved. She’d gone from a vibrant woman who laughed too loud and smothered her children in affection to a ghost of her former self. Her grief had eaten her from the inside out, and one night she’d taken too much laudanum and hadn’t woken up the following morning.
Iris had seen what love could do. She would never hurt like that.
True, she couldn’t spend her life catching pickpockets on the streets, but she could provide advice and instruction to women on how to protect themselves when alone. Someday she’d write it all down in a guide. She had to do something, because the alternative, a purposeless life, was too unthinkable. And she refused to watch all her friends marry, and then die alone with only the memory of one kiss to keep her company.
Chapter Five
Iris wore one of her best day dresses, since she’d just come from a meeting of the Ladies of Virtue. It had been two days since Lord Ashby had kissed her. Two days and she still could feel his lips on hers. Until his note had arrived that morning, she hadn’t heard from him since that day. Initially, she’d thought he’d given up, changed his mind about their wager, about her helping his sister.
Then his note had come, inviting her to his home that afternoon to meet Lucinda. Still, she couldn’t help but pat her hair and straighten her shawl to make certain everything was in place before she knocked at Lord Ashby’s townhome.
Seconds later a young man opened the door. He was strikingly handsome, almost in a pretty sort of way. He was not the butler from the other day.
“Lady Iris, I presume?” he asked. “I am Rand, Merritt’s assistant from the paper, and his oldest friend.”
She nodded. “I believe his lordship is expecting me.”
“Yes, they are waiting for you in the parlor,” he said, his tone less than welcoming. “Follow me.” He closed the front door behind her then led her a short distance down the corridor to a room to their right. She watched his movements closely, trying to memorize them. When it came to her own charade, she could easily mimic his mannerisms. He brought her to a different room than Lord Ashby’s study, and as Iris entered, she could see that it was a tastefully decorated parlor.
Lord Ashby and his sister were standing when Rand announced Iris into the room.
“Thank you, Rand,” Lord Ashby said.
Rand bowed. “My pleasure, my lord. Anything else?”
Lord Ashby shook his head. “You’ve done plenty. I believe this is still a workday, and my paper is not going to run itself. Perhaps you should get back to work.”
Rand withdrew from the room without a good-bye to anyone, merely a sigh.
Lord Ashby’s sister was all smiles as she came forward to meet Iris. “Lady Iris, I have heard so much about you!” the girl said.
“And I you,” Iris said.
The girl gripped Iris’s hand in both of her own and held on tightly. “I’m so very excited.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Iris pulled her hand free. She then curtsied. “My name is Iris Bennington. Very pleased to meet you.”
When the girl hadn’t provided her name, Lord Ashby spoke from the sofa where he’d taken a seat. “Introduce yourself, Lucy. Properly, as we discussed.”
Iris did her best to ignore how the rich timbre of his voice warmed her.
His sister bobbed her head enthusiastically then frowned as she bent herself into an awkward curtsey. “Lucinda Steele. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Iris nodded, but made no move from her spot in the center of the room. As Lucinda stood and stared at her, Iris cleared her throat. “You should invite me to sit,” Iris said quietly.
Lucinda winced. “Right! So sorry. Please sit.” She at least at the foresight to wait until Iris had done so before following suit.
“Now then, what is it that you hope to get out of our instructions?” Iris asked her.
“I want to go to balls and dance all night and walk in the gardens and meet a handsome man and fall in love and—”
“Lucy, one thing at a time,” Lord Ashby said. “For now, you wish to b
e polished enough to be introduced to Society and attend social functions.”
She nodded carefully.
The girl was pretty, with dark hair and piercing light eyes, much like her brother. But unlike him, she was all smiles except when she was concentrating. Iris hadn’t anticipated quite this much work to prepare the girl for Society. She was far too expressive for the likes of the matrons. They’d destroy her in one evening.
“Perhaps we should aim for something quieter than a ball,” Iris said. “The theater or the opera. It might be easier to transition into Society if she could observe them from the safety of a box. You do have a box, do you not?”
Lord Ashby turned his cerulean eyes toward her. “I believe I do. It is not a bad idea.”
She wasn’t certain if she should say “thank you” or if that wasn’t much of a compliment.
“The theater?” Lucinda said, disappointment thick in her question. “I had hoped to meet new people. You cannot speak at the theater, can you?”
“Well, not during the show, but during intermission and at the beginning and end in the lobby,” Iris said. “I am not discounting balls or soirees. Just not to start.”
Lucinda nodded. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at the floor, and it was as if Iris has extinguished the light inside the girl. She could hardly bear to disappoint her so, but she also knew that introducing the girl now would most certainly lead to her ruin, or at the least create quite the scandal.
Iris met Lord Ashby’s gaze and hoped he understood her look.
“Lucy, dear, would you go and see about some tea for us?” he asked.
The girl stood and left the room without a backward glance.
“What?” he asked once they were alone.
“She is…” Iris grappled for the right word.
“Unrefined?”
“I was going to say enthusiastic. ’Tis not a bad thing, but…”
“Lady Iris, it will do us no good for you to be anything but completely forthcoming with me,” he said.
“Very well. They will destroy her.”
“All of them?”
“The matrons, in particular, but other girls as well. Society is cruel.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said, his words dripped with sarcasm. “I am rather familiar with the cruelties of the aristocracy. Why do you think I write what I do in my paper? It does not stem from admiration.”
“If you hate Society so much, why put your sister in it?”
“Because it is what she wants. And I happen to believe that once she’s out there, she’ll see for herself how wretched the people are, and she’ll come to her senses.”
“You truly do not think highly of us.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, well, they can be particularly nasty to women.” Iris shook her head. “I’m not certain I’m the one to do this. Or that it can be done. At least, not in time for this Season.”
He shook his head. “No. You will not quit that easily. If you can endure the measurements from the other evening, you can do this.” He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees, and the look was so masculine that she nearly lost her breath. “If I can pass you off as a gentleman, then you should have no problem passing my sister off as a lady. At least with Lucy you have the correct sex.”
He had her there. She looked away from him then. His handsome face was far too distracting for her mind to work properly. She wasn’t normally one to back down from a challenge, and after all, this entire thing she was doing was to save her brother. Certainly, she could understand Lord Ashby’s quest to do the same for his sister. Perhaps she could get some of her friends to assist her.
“Very well, but we’ll need to begin work immediately, and she will need to be willing to do and say everything I ask of her.”
He nodded. “She is compliant.”
“And sweet.” Iris smiled. “That, I can plainly tell. I am merely trying to save her some embarrassment.”
“You have an impeccable reputation, Lady Iris.”
At that, her brows shot up.
“Yes, I do my research. I asked around about you. I know that if anyone can help Lucy, it is you.” He gave her a smirk. “You need only remember all of the requirements of our agreement.”
“I haven’t forgotten any of them. I fully intend to win this little challenge of ours so that rubbish you’re publishing as advice shall disappear and my brother can cease his foolish behavior.”
“My dear lady, you do realize that boys the world over have been making poor decisions for centuries. I hardly believe his behavior is so dependent on my words.”
She cocked her head. “Your words?”
“Figuratively,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.
“No, you meant that literally. You not only publish those articles, you are the author. I suppose that makes sense, since you are so proud of them.”
“The author of said articles has no relevance to this situation.”
“It does. Before I can begin working with Lucy, I need to hear you say it.”
He frowned. “That I’m the author?”
“No, that you will agree to pull the publications. And print a retraction.”
He eyed her for several moments. “You can ensure that my sister is accepted?”
“I can ensure that she will be accepted within my small group of friends,” she said.
“I will agree to cease printing the articles, but I shall not print a retraction. Also, I will speak to your brother directly, if you believe it would help.”
“My lord, my brother has taken the time to read your articles so carefully that he has made notes in the margins and underlined his favorite parts. I think meeting you would be a disaster for him,” she said.
Iris was alight with nerves as she waited for Lord Ashby to arrive. He’d said tonight they’d begin her lessons. Tonight, he’d teach her how to be a gentleman, and she, in turn, would teach him the ridiculousness of his advice. Normally, she would not have worn such a nice gown for an evening at home, but she wanted to look every bit the genteel lady so that he’d quickly realize his foolishness. It had nothing to do with hoping to look more attractive to the dashing merchant’s son turned earl.
She’d already instructed her housekeeper to see Lord Ashby directly in when he arrived, as they had important business to attend to.
Even though the parlor in which she waited was all the way at the end of the corridor, she still heard the heavy front door open and close when he arrived. She shook her hands in front of her and resituated herself on the settee with the book she’d been pretending to read. She’d glanced at the same paragraph at least a dozen times in the last twenty minutes.
“My lady, Lord Ashby for you,” the housekeeper said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds, you may retire for the evening,” Iris said, coming to her feet.
The housekeeper questioned nothing, she merely curtseyed and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Lord Ashby pointed behind him. “Do you trust her?”
“Implicitly. She’s protective of me and my brother.” Iris gave him a smile. “She likely won’t go far on the off chance that you try to rob me and I scream.”
“I can think of far more pleasant ways to make you scream, my dear lady,” he said.
It was on her tongue to inquire as to what he meant, but she thought better of it. “Will this room work? I wasn’t certain what we’d be doing this evening.”
He did not take his eyes off her. “For this evening, this room shall suffice.”
It was then that Iris noticed he carried a small trunk with him.
“I brought everything we need for tonight’s instruction.” He motioned her back to the settee. “Go ahead and sit.”
He carried the small trunk to the occasional table in front of her and opened it. He withdrew two glasses and a decanter of amber colored liquid and set them down. Next came a small deck of cards, which he laid on the table before he poured them
each a glass.
“We have brandy here,” she said.
“Well, I wanted to be certain you had the appropriate drink. And since you’re so opposed to your brother imbibing, I wasn’t confident you’d have any on hand.”
“I never said I opposed him imbibing.”
He handed her one of the glasses. “Didn’t you?”
“Not precisely. I do not care for indulging in spirits for the sake of indulgence. It is my understanding it can cloud your judgment and bring about potentially dangerous behavior.”
His dark brows rose ever so slightly. “Cheers.” He held up his glass to hers.
She clinked hers against his and suddenly felt as if she’d just sealed her fate.
Good heavens. Her mother had been right; she did have a flair for the dramatic. She took a slow sip, and the brandy burned her tongue and throat.
He grabbed the deck of cards, separated them, and then shuffled them back together. Again and again he did this, until they were to his liking, then he dealt them each a hand. “I’m going to teach you to play faro. It is the most popular card game at most gambling establishments.” He dumped a handful of coins onto the table, then divided them up. “These are your checks, though at a gaming hell, they’ll be chips, not actual money pieces.”
“Who taught you how to play?”
He looked up at her, then cleared his throat. “My father did.”
“Was he a good man?”
Lord Ashby smiled. It was equal parts wistful and fond. “He was a very good man. Made his fortune as a merchant and taught me much.”
“My lord—”
“I think it is past time that we stop using such formal ways to address each other. You may call me Merritt, and I shall call you Iris,” he said.
He poured her another drink, and this one she found didn’t burn nearly as much as its predecessor, so she took a bigger sip. It warmed her all the way down her stomach to her feet. She wiggled her toes inside her slippers.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said. “You might think I don’t, but I’m rather clever.”
A grin slid onto his face. “I haven’t the slightest notion what you’re talking about,” he said.
The Scoundrel and the Lady (Lords of Vice) Page 6
