The Earl's Wallflower Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “It’s interesting you should mention Napoleon,” Warren began. “Just the other day I was talking to—”

  “Did you get enough fish, Mother?” Iris asked, not even bothering to look at him.

  “Iris,” her father said, an underlying warning in his pleasant tone.

  Her mother glanced at everyone sitting at the table then cleared her throat. “Actually, I’d like a little more.”

  Iris obliged her then decided she’d launch into a discussion about shopping with her mother earlier that day. She knew it’d bore her father and probably even Warren, but talk of money and finances bored her mother. Of all the people she felt was even remotely on her side, it was her mother, and she decided if there was one person who wouldn’t be put to sleep during this very long and agonizing meal, it was going to be her.

  Iris’ father and Warren contributed nothing else through the dinner, and that suited her just fine. Afterwards, her mother suggested Iris’ father and Warren go to the den while she and Iris would go to the drawing room.

  Iris was more than willing to take any reprieve she could get. Doing everything possible to ignore Warren was exhausting her. Relieved, she hurried out of the room with her mother, only venturing one look back in time to see her father’s bewildered expression. Warren, on the other hand, was as unreadable as ever.

  Chapter Six

  Warren followed the Duke of Hartwell into the den.

  The duke shut the door and went to the decanter. “I must apologize for my daughter’s behavior. She doesn’t usually dominate the conversation like that.” He poured brandy into their glasses. “By chance, do you remember her now that we had dinner with her?”

  “Yes,” Warren admitted, sorry he hadn’t remembered her before this evening.

  Had he any idea she was that Lady Iris—the one Robert had accused him of ignoring on two different occasions—he would have apologized when he wrote her the missive asking to meet her. No doubt she’d been proving a point during the dinner, and he really couldn’t blame her. If he was her, he would have done the same thing.

  Honestly, he didn’t know why he’d had the hardest time remembering her. Maybe she just didn’t stand out like other people did. Granted, it wasn’t through any fault of her own, but it was what it was. Maybe if she’d told him she had an old Sovereign at his dinner party, he would have remembered her. An old Sovereign was something that would have caught his interest.

  Turning his attention back to her father, he accepted the brandy and sat in the chair the gentleman gestured to. He took a sip of the brandy. It wasn’t as good as Malcolm’s. There was no brandy in London that came close to what Malcolm had. But the Duke of Hartwell had brandy worth drinking.

  “Your daughter had good reason to act the way she did this evening,” Warren confided. This wasn’t going to be pleasant to admit, but Warren wasn’t one to act like he’d behaved honorably when he hadn’t. “I didn’t realize I ignored her at the two dinner parties I had invited her to, but a friend,” or rather, someone who used to be a friend, “informed me I had, indeed, ignored her. So you see, it’s understandable why she acted the way she did.”

  “You didn’t realize you were ignoring her?” her father asked after he sipped his brandy.

  “The conversations were such lively ones. The gentlemen were discussing aspects of business that fascinated me, and apparently, she contributed something worth noting that I missed. I assure you, it wasn’t intentional. It’s just that when a topic isn’t something that usually interests a lady, I assume whatever she says has nothing to do with it.”

  “Well, Iris enjoys topics that don’t interest the average lady.”

  “Really?” He recalled the Duchess of Ashbourne and her friends suggesting such a lady existed, but he honestly hadn’t believed them. He figured he’d be better off expecting a Pegasus to pull up a carriage to his townhouse.

  Her father smiled. “Yes, really. Growing up, she used to prefer to be around me instead of her mother, and that being the case, I introduced her to topics girls usually don’t learn about.”

  “And she didn’t get bored?”

  “On the contrary, she wanted to learn more.” Her father must have noticed his disbelief, for he added, “No one was more surprised than I was. I fully expected her to go running back to her mother on several occasions, but she didn’t. She kept asking me questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  Her father shrugged. “Let me think… I recall a time when she was ten, and she asked me to explain what happens in Parliament. I did my best to sum up the answer quickly so as not to confuse her, but it turned out she grasped everything I told her easily enough. Some gentlemen don’t know half as much as she does on many topics.”

  “One of those being money?” Warren guessed. Money was the obvious choice, given the fact that she had an old Sovereign.

  “Yes, money is one of her favorite topics. You’d be surprised by how well she manages it. Her dowry will be considerable, of course, but she has enough of her own money to live comfortably for the rest of her life if she were to ever leave you.”

  Ever leave him? He wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, nor was he sure he wanted to find out. It sounded like there was a warning hidden somewhere in there.

  “Iris is my only child,” her father continued, “and since she’s a lady, I realize her position isn’t as secure as a gentleman’s would be. Despite what she thinks, I have taken the matter of her happiness into account, and I have seen to it the money she’s earned through her own business ventures will remain solely her own.”

  Warren’s eyes grew wide in interest. “She has business ventures?”

  “Certainly. She’s my daughter. I taught her everything I know about investing in businesses. She figures out which business owners are worth giving money to, and she reaps a portion of the profits, if there are any.”

  Well, Warren was getting more and more impressed with her. Who knew such ladies existed?

  “Now,” her father added, “I didn’t tell her about the money she has that you can’t touch. I want this marriage to work. I don’t want her running off without giving you a fair chance. I like you. I agreed to let you invite her to your dinner parties in hopes something would come of it.”

  “I see.” And, of course, since he’d showed her such little regard at those dinner parties, nothing did come of them. Well, not until the Duchess of Ashbourne intervened. “I promise you that I’ll treat her better than I have in the past.”

  “Treat her as you would treat me.”

  “I can do that.” He drank some brandy then thought it’d be better to amend what he’d just said. “I will do that.”

  “Thank you.” Her father finished his brandy. “Maybe next time you and my daughter are in the same room, things will be more amiable.”

  “They will,” Warren promised him.

  “Before we visit with the ladies, I did want to ask what you think of the new Sovereign coin.”

  Happy to oblige him, Warren began to discuss it.

  ***

  The next day, Iris and Bethany went to Hyde Park. The conversation had started innocently enough. They’d discussed things like how nice the day was and how well things were going between Bethany and Robert.

  But it wasn’t until they sat on a bench that Bethany turned to face her and said, “All right, I can’t hold back my curiosity any longer. How did things go with Lord Steinbeck last evening?”

  “It went as well as you’d expect,” Iris replied.

  Warren would never be her favorite topic of conversation, but she felt she owed it to her friend to talk about him. After all, if the situation had been reversed, she’d want to know. And Bethany was one of the few people who sincerely cared for her. So of all people she could talk to, Bethany was the best choice.

  “Did he spend the evening ignoring you again?” Bethany asked.

  Iris couldn’t help but be touched by her friend’s concerned expression. “I
didn’t give him the chance. I’m sure he would have, had the opportunity presented itself, but I figured a way to turn things around.”

  She gasped. “Does that mean you ignored him?”

  “Yes.”

  Her friend’s face lit up with excitement. “What happened? How did you do it? What did he do? Was he embarrassed?”

  Iris laughed, quickly overcoming her reluctance to talk about him. “If you give me a moment, I’ll tell you everything. I just need to recall all the events as they occurred.”

  “All right. I’ll be patient.”

  Despite her friend’s words, Iris caught the anxious way her friend tapped her foot on the grass. Iris didn’t hide her amusement. It was no wonder why she felt so comfortable with Bethany. Bethany was one of the few people who let everyone know what was on her mind. Iris knew exactly what she was thinking, and that was a huge blessing.

  Turning her attention back to the conversation, Iris began, “When Lord Steinbeck arrived, my father went to greet him at the door. Mother and I were in the drawing room, and we could hear them talking. You won’t believe it, Bethany…” She paused. “Well, maybe you will. Lord Steinbeck had the nerve to tell my father he didn’t remember me.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “He didn’t come out and admit it!”

  “Oh, he did.”

  “I’m shocked. Just shocked. I’ve never heard anything so appalling in my whole life. The least he could have done was pretend he knew you.”

  “Yes, it would have been decent of him, but when it comes to Lord Steinbeck, there’s nothing decent about him.”

  “Sadly, I have to agree. So, tell me, what happened after that?”

  “To save himself further embarrassment, he escorted me to dinner, but I didn’t let him touch me.”

  Bethany shuddered. “You poor thing. I hadn’t thought about him touching you. How awful! Since you’ll be his wife, you’ll be expected to have his child, and to do that, you’ll…you’ll…” She shook her head. “I can’t even think of it.”

  “I haven’t gotten that far in thinking about this marriage, either,” Iris agreed.

  And really, Iris hadn’t. If she had a hard time not getting all tingly and weak when he was in the same room with her, how was she going to keep her resolve on the wedding night? Certainly, he was expecting to come to her bed on their wedding night. All titled gentlemen did that to get started on their heirs.

  “Maybe if you behave abhorrently when you see him, he’ll say no to the wedding,” Bethany suggested. “Then you’ll be spared sharing a bed with him.”

  Iris glanced around, not sure they should be discussing this in public. At the moment, no one was nearby, but there were a couple of ladies who’d soon be passing them. One happened to be Lady Cadwalader, and Lord knew she would make life difficult for them if she overheard them talking about private matters.

  “Now that you mention it,” Iris said, choosing to steer the conversation away from the wedding night, “my behavior was so rude he just might not want to have anything to do with me.”

  Bethany’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Really?”

  “Yes. At the beginning of the meal, my father asked me about the new Sovereign.”

  “The new what?”

  “It’s a twenty shilling coin.” Surprised, Iris had to ask, “Didn’t you know about it?”

  “No. I don’t bother with matters of what coins are coming out. My father handles that, and some day, my husband will, too.” Then, with a sly grin, she added, “My only concern is how I spend them.”

  Iris giggled at her friend’s joke but quickly stopped when she saw that Lady Cadwalader and her friends were within earshot. She gestured for Bethany to stop talking so the other ladies wouldn’t overhear them.

  “I don’t care what anyone says,” Lady Cadwalader said. “If that miserable Marquess of Dodsworth attends the Duke of Rumsey’s ball, I am not going. I would advise the rest of you to do the same.”

  “But the Marquess of Dodsworth is good friends with Lord Edon, and Lord Edon is the duke’s son-in-law. I don’t see how the duke can avoid inviting him,” one of her friends argued.

  “The marquess used to be banned from the duke’s balls,” another said.

  “That was before Lord Edon married the duke’s daughter,” the first friend replied.

  “Rumor has it,” another one added, “that Lord Edon became friends with the marquess because he was banned from the duke’s balls.”

  “I remember that evening,” the first friend said. “That was the one where the marquess took off his shirt.”

  Lady Cadwalader shushed them and stopped to turn to them, her disapproving expression silencing them. Iris glanced at Bethany. The ladies were just a few steps away from their bench. Iris quickly looked away from the ladies, hoping they weren’t aware she could still hear everything they were saying.

  “I will have no more talk of that devilish gentleman,” Lady Cadwalader said. “I will not attend any ball he goes to, even if it’s hosted by someone as admirable as the Duke of Rumsey. I highly caution the rest of you to do the same. Any association with him will damage your reputation. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes,” one of the friends said, the others soon following suit.

  “Good,” Lady Cadwalader replied, sounding satisfied.

  Since Iris heard skirts rustling, she ventured a peek at the ladies and saw they were finally walking away from her and Bethany. She released her breath. The last thing she wanted to do was annoy them. The best thing she could do was stay as far from them as possible.

  “I don’t know why you let her and her friends intimidate you,” Bethany said. “They’re busybodies with nothing better to do than to pass judgments no one else cares about.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Iris said. “People do care. They’re influential with the Ton.”

  Bethany shrugged. “Only with people who care about their opinion. The Marquess of Dodsworth is right about them. They’re all hypocrites. The very acts they condemn, they do in secret. It’s horrible, if you ask me.”

  “I know. And I agree. I’d just rather be as invisible to them as possible.”

  “Well, they’re gone now,” Bethany said. “What else happened last evening with Lord Steinbeck?”

  Iris forced her gaze off the ladies and turned her attention back to what she and her friend had been discussing. “As I was saying, Father started talking about the new Sovereign, and when Lord Steinbeck began to comment on it, I interrupted him right in the middle of his sentence, as if he hadn’t been saying anything.”

  Bethany’s eyes twinkled. “You did? Really and truly?”

  She nodded. “I treated him the same way he treated me. And I kept it up. I didn’t let him get more than a couple words in before I made it a point to say something.”

  “Good for you, Iris. I bet it did him good to reap what he’s sown.”

  “I don’t know if it did him any good or not. I made it a point to turn the conversation to topics only my mother would be interested in. Father’s much too polite to interrupt her when she’s talking, so I kept asking her questions.”

  “What things did she talk about?”

  “Oh, she talked about her favorite fashion this Season, the symphony, and who had the best balls.”

  “But don’t those topics bore you?”

  “That didn’t matter. What mattered was boring Lord Steinbeck.”

  Bethany giggled. “You’re right. So what happened after dinner was over?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Father and Lord Steinbeck went to the den. I told Mother I had a terrible headache and retired for the rest of the evening.”

  Bethany gasped. “You didn’t even tell Lord Steinbeck good night?”

  “Why would I? He didn’t deserve it. It took all my strength to endure the meal sitting across from him. Father was fortunate I didn’t slap him for not remembering who I was.”

  “When you
put it like that, I can’t argue with you for refusing to say good night to Lord Steinbeck. He really didn’t deserve it.”

  “No, he didn’t.” She paused for a moment then asked, “Do you think he might end the engagement?”

  “I would if Robert did that to me.”

  “Yes, but Robert would never treat you that way.”

  “That’s true. It’s hard to know how Lord Steinbeck will react.”

  Indeed, it was. So far, no missive had come declining the marriage. It was a shame, too. Things would be so simple if he’d say he’d have nothing to do with her. Then she’d be free of him.

  “If he is going to end the engagement,” Bethany began, “I suspect he’ll do it soon. If it was me, I would send a missive today or tomorrow.”

  Her friend was right. She couldn’t expect anything in the morning. Usually, a missive would come around the afternoon or the next day. Hopeful once more, Iris prayed her actions last evening might result in the one thing she wanted most: freedom from Lord Steinbeck.

  Chapter Seven

  Unfortunately, when she did receive a missive the next day, it wasn’t the polite request to end the engagement like she’d hoped. No. It was something worse. Much, much worse.

  I am writing to invite you to Lord Worsley’s dinner party this Friday. It’d be my pleasure to introduce you publicly as my betrothed. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t mind a special license. I’d prefer to marry you sooner rather than later. Your father and I discussed the matter and think a wedding next week would be best. I would have consulted you on the matter, but you had taken ill with a headache, and I hadn’t wished to disturb you.

  When the words on the parchment finally made sense, she let out a shriek and dropped the missive.

  Her mother came rushing into the drawing room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Father?” Iris demanded.