The Duke of My Heart (Regency Romance)

by Hanna Hamilton

  Oh. Iris’s heart sunk. She knew that her betrothal was something that she needed to discuss eventually, but Elizabeth knowing already made it that much more real. What if that meant everyone knew? There certainly wouldn’t be any escape then.

  Not that there was much chance of it anyway.

  “Father is sick? He is dying?”

  Ah, that made more sense!

  "Yes." Iris hung her head towards the ground, showing the appropriate amount of sadness. Iris fell apart when her mother passed away, so the fact that she did not feel the same way now made her feel very guilty. It made sense, her mother was her world whereas her father was a virtual stranger, but still, she felt bad. "He said this to me only yesterday. It is a terrible shame."

  “Life will be... different without him here.” Elizabeth seemed to be struggling with what to say as well. The girls were not at all heartless, this was just a man that had always existed in the peripherals of their lives. It was like discussing the death of a very distant cousin. “Has he made a plan for you yet?”

  “Yes,” Iris whispered. “He wants me to get married.”

  Elizabeth pulled Iris closer to her for a hug. She embraced her close, pressing her head into her chest. For a brief moment, this reminded Iris of her mother’s comforting cuddles. They never failed to make her feel much better. Maybe Elizabeth’s hug would work too, if it wasn’t for such the dire situation.

  “Has he given you the names of any suitors?”

  “Duke Loftus Pembroke.”

  Elizabeth pulled back to stare at her sister with wide, shocked eyes. “Are you serious?”

  Iris’s heart hammered, her brain spun. She watched Elizabeth’s face twist up in disgust which made her feel even worse about the arrangement – something she hadn’t thought possible until now.

  “I am serious, why, what is wrong?”

  Elizabeth paced, she walked all the way over to the fountain in the Warwick garden where she took a seat on the outer stone rim. Concern was plastered over her expression the entire time while she pondered this news. In fact, Iris noted that she looked more horrified than the day she learned that she would be getting married herself.

  Iris could recall that day well. She remembered her sister stomping around the room in fury at the prospect. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get married, she did want a husband and family to call her own, it was simply that she wanted to pick her own husband. She didn’t want the older gentleman that her father had deemed worthy of her hand and dowry. Iris felt sorry for Elizabeth back then, but it was a distant sympathy. It felt like the sort of situation was a million miles away from her own life. She couldn’t imagine the time when it would come for her too.

  That time was now.

  “Iris, I have heard of Duke Loftus Pembroke,” Elizabeth finally started in a hushed tone. “He is not a nice man.”

  “What do you mean?” Iris gulped, trying to keep the sickness in. “Is he grumpy? Cold-hearted?”

  Elizabeth grasped her sister’s hands and she smiled as reassuringly as she could manage considering the situation. She knew herself what it was to be married to someone that wasn’t any good, she had that herself, but this was different. Iris was soft, too delicate for the world, and Loftus was a brute. There was no way this pairing was a good one, if only their father paid more attention he would know this for himself.

  “He has a horrible reputation as an unpleasant man who isn't kind to anyone – least of all the women in his life. His angry temper has gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. I do not want to think of you stuck in his home, sad and heartbroken every day."

  “Oh my God.” Iris clutched her chest, her whole body pulsating with terror. The idea had been awful before, now she could feel it tearing her soul apart “Oh my goodness, Elizabeth, are you serious? I do not know what to say. What should I do? Can I escape this?”

  Elizabeth’s face fell. A betrothal arrangement was incredibly hard to break. Even preliminary arrangements between gentlemen were considered solid, set in stone almost. Also, their father was in a rush. He was dying, he wanted this wrapped up before he passed away. There was no chance he would listen to Elizabeth’s plea on her sister’s behalf. He was challenging enough to speak to under ordinary circumstances.

  "I will try for you," Elizabeth promised hollowly. She didn't want to leave Iris alone under a cloud of despair. She wouldn't be able to go back home knowing that Iris was falling into an abyss. Even if she couldn't do anything about it, she had to leave Iris with a tiny spark of hope. "I will speak to Father today, see if there is anyone more suitable."

  “I would prefer for it to be no one,” Iris replied glumly, but of course, she already knew that it wasn’t possible. She would have to marry someone if that was what her father wished of her. “But it will be better not to be him. Anyone but him.”

  Elizabeth stood up to walk away, and Iris nodded in acknowledgement. She needed to stay out in the garden for a little while longer, to work out what she was going to do next, and Elizabeth understood that. Some alone time would do Iris good. She hoped the sunshine would help to clear her mind a little bit, to help her come to terms with what inevitably had to be done.

  As Iris watched her sister walk away, her heart darted all over her body in a panic. Elizabeth had made it obvious that there was no escaping marriage entirely, and although she’d promised to help, Iris wasn’t convinced that there was any chance of her actually talking their father around. His hard reputation was there for a reason.

  Maybe she should run away.

  Iris pictured herself jumping up from the fountain right at that moment and simply taking off with no plan whatsoever. Just going wherever the wind took her. She imagined herself running off into the sunset and never looking back, forgetting this life forever more.

  It was a romantic notion, but not a practical one, and that was the only thing that kept Iris fixed where she was. After all, the running off would be one thing but what would happen to her afterwards? With no money, she would need to work, and with no skills or experience, there wasn’t a lot she could do. With no connections, she would probably be forced to work as one of those street girls that Daisy had told her all about one terrifying night.

  Daisy had scared her half to death by telling her that there were poor girls out there in the big cities, who were forced to give over their bodies for cash, that men would treat them badly and shame them in terrible ways. Apparently, they needed money so badly that every single day was a terrible chore for them, and that once they'd been shamed into that life, there was no getting out of it. Some might go on to become courtesans who would receive the privilege of the company of wealthier men... but still it was not a lifestyle that appealed to the ever frightened Iris.

  At the time, Iris had been so scared by the tales that she hadn’t even bothered to ask how Daisy knew all of that. Maybe it was a friend of hers who had been forced into that life, or a family member. Or maybe it was just one of those warning stories that the working classes shared with each other, to allow them to feel better about their own less than comfortable existences.

  No, Iris could not run away, she did not want that ever to be her. The idea of men’s eyes upon her as a marriage prospect was bad enough. This was a step too far.

  As the sun crept higher in the sky, and the birds’ tweets got increasingly louder with each passing second, Iris knew that her mood should at least try to match the brightness of the day, but she could not find it within her. It was as if her heart and organs had been swallowed whole by a deep, black gloom, and there was nothing that she could do to shake that off of her. It was a waste for her to be out in it when she couldn’t enjoy its beauty. If it wasn’t going to make her smile, then she should leave it for someone else. Someone who still knew what hope felt like.

  With a deep sigh, Iris stood back up and she wandered aimlessly towards her home... or what was her home for now, maybe it wouldn’t be for too much longer. As she moved, she tried her best to
find some determination within her. There had to be a way out of this, she just needed to figure out what it was...

  If only this was a world in which she could actually have a say.

  Chapter 4

  The spattering of rain that tainted the otherwise bright blue sky matched Iris’s mood exactly. It felt adept that the weather was almost the same as it had been for the past few weeks, aside from the droplets of water cascading towards the ground. Just a tiny little difference that somehow altered everything.

  “Are you alright?” Olivia asked Iris in an unusually kind tone of voice. She stepped into Iris’s bedroom and stalked through it as if she owned the place. She had always been that way, as if it was her right as the eldest sister. “I know this must be difficult...”

  “I’m fine,” Iris snapped, while folding her arms tightly across her chest. She could not help feeling defensive because she knew that everyone was waiting for a reaction from her. This time they were not going to get it. Iris would be strong, whatever it took. “I mean, not fine really. Everything is... well, I will be okay in the end.”

  “Father has died, Iris, it is okay for you to feel something.”

  “Olivia, honestly, this is not going to be like the last time.” Iris did her best to reassure Olivia with a small smile. Her heart was bouncing, her stomach churning but she couldn’t let it show. “I can assure you that I will not fall apart again.”

  “You look lovely. Black is a good colour on you.” The seemingly random comment appeared layered with meaning, but Iris was too emotionally exhausted to bother decoding it. “We will be leaving for the church in a moment.”

  With that, Olivia spun on her heels and she walked as briskly from the room as she did when she entered it. Once she was alone again, Iris let out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she was holding in. This whole day was going to be more challenging than she thought it would be. She knew the funeral would not be easy, but her emotions were already threatening to get the better of her.

  Right, Iris Warwick, she thought firmly to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, examining herself critically. It is time to be strong.

  Her hair was styled into braids, she had a black veil attached to the top of her head, and her dress fell down to her knees where stockings took over and covered up the rest of her. Still, she felt as exposed and vulnerable as if she was fully nude. There were going to be a lot of people at this funeral, Robert was a very well known man in society, which meant Iris couldn’t hide today, however much she wanted to. That shouldn’t matter, this was supposed to be a day to mourn her father’s passing, but she couldn’t help it. Her fears and anxiety flooded her regardless of what her rationality suggested.

  You can do this. She tilted her chin up higher and stared definitely at herself. Say goodbye to your father, then see what will happen afterwards.

  Once she had finished looking at herself, Iris pulled a black cover down over the reflective surface. She did not believe the silly notion that image of the deceased would be seen in there – after all, she had spent months searching for one last sighting of her mother – but she wanted to respect everyone else’s fears. That was also why she hadn’t stopped Daisy from stopping all the clocks. People believe it was bad luck on the day of a funeral, and that was that.

  Much as this was a terribly sad day, there was something good to come of it. Her father had died before he could introduce her to Duke Loftus Pembroke, which could possibly put a major spinner in the plans for her betrothal. If she had not formally met him, then she couldn’t exactly marry him, could she? And now that her father was no longer around to arrange it, there was a strong chance that it could all fall apart.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be forced to marry anyone after all.

  Iris didn’t allow her chin to fall, even as she walked down the stairs to join her family. She needed to remain confident and strong on the outside, even if she didn’t feel it on the inside. As expected, all eyes turned to look at her as she swept into the downstairs area of the house, and of course that set her heart alight with worry, but still, she didn't let her chin dip.

  Keep strong, act tough, this will not last forever.

  “Shall we leave now?” she asked, proving to everyone just how ready she was to face this.

  The church stood proudly in the center of the village. The white walls helped it to fit into the scenic English countryside, whereas the tall steeple made it stand out. It was a beautiful building, the heart of many social events, but now it was about to be shrouded in sadness. Many people preferred their funeral to be a celebration of their lives, but not Robert Warwick. He would want it to be a morose affair. That was part of the reason the service was being held in a church, rather than in the house as was typical, so that everyone who had ever known him could attend.

  A crowd had already gathered outside of the church, black clothing tainted the landscape as far as the eye could see. As the Warwick family arrived, all eyes were upon them, which instantly made Iris’s resolve wobble. She could no longer keep her head high, her eyes fixed on the shoes on her feet instead. She was still keeping strong... just in a different way. For someone who hadn’t been out in public for years and years, it took incredible strength just for her to remain upright.

  Iris’s heart tightened as they stepped into the church. Before that moment, her father’s death hadn’t been as real to her as maybe it should have been, but now it hit her hard. She hadn’t seen Robert’s body, Daisy had informed her of his passing and contacted the doctor as Iris hid in her bedroom, and her sisters had dealt with the funeral plans. Iris had kept well away from all of it, and everyone else encouraged that. No one wanted her to take to her bed again because there was no telling how long it would take her to come out again.

  Maybe someone should have made her. Maybe if someone forced her out of her shell, things would be different for Iris.

  Before this moment, her father’s death could have all been in her mind, one of her brain’s idle fantasies, the storylines her mind created. Now though, it was happening. This was real. There was no escaping it anymore.

  “Come on,” Elizabeth whispered to Iris as she gently touched her shoulder. “It will be okay, Iris. Do not worry. I am here for you, we all are.”

  She sat down on the hard wooden pew next to her sister, and wrapped her hands around one another while she waited. Elizabeth placed a hand on her back, but it was too late to calm her down now. The snake of terror was coiling all through her body.

  Everyone stood and turned as the coffin was brought into the church. Iris’s eyes were in the same direction as the others but she wasn’t really looking. Her eyes blurred because they didn’t want to see, her brain switched off because she didn’t want to hear, her body remained in the church, but it was more of an empty vessel than anything else.

  The coffin was brought to the front of the room, and the members of the congregation that wanted to see the contents of the open casket were invited to do so. It was expected of Iris as his daughter to go and look, but she didn't. She couldn't imagine anything worse than looking at her father's corpse, so she refused. She remained strong, she stayed exactly where she was. Her hairs at the nape of her neck stood to attention, Iris could feel many eyes searching for her, she felt certain that she was, even more, the center of attention than her father, but still, she stayed where she was.

  The sermon was preached, the eulogy was spoken, all the traditional funeral occurrences happened, but to Iris, it was a mere blur. She tuned much of it out, merely as a coping mechanism. She was there, but not there all the same.

  Eventually, it was time for the congregation to go outside, to watch the body being lowered into the ground. Everyone moved quickly, as if they were eager for this to be over, but Iris stayed behind just for a moment alone. She wanted to say a personal goodbye to her father just before he was finally laid to rest, but as she sat in the cold, empty room all by herself she realized that she didn’t have anything more to say t
o him.

  He was gone, that’s all there was to it.

  The air was cool as it brushed past Iris’s cheeks. As the breeze raced over she finally noticed that her eyes were wet. She was actually crying, which came as a big surprise even to her. Maybe she didn’t have anything left to say to her father, but she did still have some emotion.

  She walked through the lush green grass over to where everyone else was waiting, and she took her place at the back of the crowd. Surrounded by so many other bodies all dressed in a similar fashion to her, it was much easier for Iris to blend, to be a wallflower without even trying, which was a sensation she adored. If it could be that way all the time, she would never be inside.

  Everyone else was so focused on what was going on ahead of them, they were all marvelling at the large, grey headstone that Robert must have picked out for himself at some point, that just for a moment Iris was outside, in a crowd, and she didn’t feel panicked about it. That might have just been because no one was looking at her, but it was nice, just for one second to feel normal.

  Just like everyone else...

  * * *

  Iris knew that it would be challenging to face a house full of people she barely knew, but somehow the gathering of mourners that had followed the Warwick family home managed to completely outweigh her expectations. Distant relatives embraced her despite the fact that she was clearly uncomfortable with it, her father’s friends tried to engage her in endless conversations, there wasn’t a place in the house for her to get a moment of rest. She had even tried to escape to her bedroom at one point, but a distant cousin had followed her and criticised the open drapes. Apparently, that was another thing that couldn't be seen as anything other than ‘disrespectful', given the circumstances.

  “Robert was a very good businessman," an elderly gentleman said to her for about the fifth time. His grey hair hung into his eyes and his suit was very ill fitting. In Iris's opinion this was a man who had money in his youth and wanted to be seen as that still despite the fact that the money was obviously gone. "Very good. None of us saw this illness coming. It was a huge surprise."