by Lucy Monroe
Did Lucas see her as merely a means to an end? Among the ton, it was certainly common practice for gentlemen to regard ladies as little more than ornaments to grace their homes and brood mares to fill their nurseries.
Irisa’s head spun and she forced a deep breath into her lungs.
“Ashton is a gentleman. He knows what is expected of him.”
Mama’s questionable championship of Lucas did nothing for Irisa’s precarious emotions. Her words made it sound like it was a foregone conclusion that Lucas would indeed have a mistress.
Lady Preston shrugged her beautiful, fully exposed, shoulders. “Perhaps. I believe when there is a child involved that gentlemen are less circumspect in these matters.”
The satisfied malice in Lady Preston’s voice sickened Irisa. Why did so many among the ton find it pleasing to hurt others with tittle-tattle? She had heard just such a tone on many occasions when a member of the beau monde passed on some juicy tidbit about Thea’s unconventional attitudes or Jared’s reclusive ways.
Yet, what Lady Preston said now could not be true. Lucas would not become engaged to her while carrying on an association with another woman. He could not possibly have a child.
It was unthinkable.
Not The Saint.
Why not? A voice in her head taunted. Many gentlemen of the ton do so. Look at your own Papa’s past. But Lucas was not her father.
“I am sure you are mistaken,” Mama said in freezing accents, whirling around, clearly intent on making a grand exit.
The effect was spoiled when she ran straight into Irisa.
Irisa hastily stepped back. “Hello, Mama.”
“Lady Irisa. We did not see you standing there. I hope our conversation did not alarm you,” Lady Preston said.
Schooling her features into a polite blankness, Irisa inclined her head. “I assure you, had I been listening, nothing you could have said would have overset me.” She refused to give the gossiping harpy the satisfaction of thinking she’d hurt her. Irisa turned to her mother. “I believe you told me to be ready to go after this last dance.”
Mama nodded in agreement to the lie without twitching so much as an eyelash.
Irisa did not bring up the subject of Mama and Lady Preston’s discussion on the way home and neither did her mother. It was as if by not speaking about it, they could pretend nothing important had been said. Irisa would not ignore the horrible accusations Lady Preston had made, however.
She would discover the truth.
***
Irisa spent a sleepless night tormented with the thoughts of Lucas in another woman’s arms. She made several decisions as the dawn chorus rose in crescendo outside her window. The first was that until she had proof otherwise, she would assume Lady Preston had been mistaken. That did not mean she would bury her head in the sand like the flightless birds she’d read about inhabiting the Australian colonies.
No. She would ferret out the truth, which was her second decision. Lady Preston had said that the whole ton knew of Lucas’s fabled mistress. If that were true, then surely the servants would have heard something. Irisa would quiz Pansy about it this morning when the maid came to help her dress.
Her third, and by far most disconcerting, decision was not to put off engaging Lucas in an intimate discussion about their feelings. All three decisions took a certain amount of courage, but she did not gammon herself. The third one took all that she had. However, she would rather face the specter of rejection now than go through life married to a man who found her no more inspiring of passion than blancmange, the tasteless puddings reserved for those in the sickbed.
***
Pansy stared askance at her mistress. “You want to know if ‘e keeps a ladybird tucked away? Why, milady?”
Irisa repeated the conversation she had overheard at the ball the previous evening.
Pansy’s face turned pensive. “I don’t know, milady. I ‘aven’t ‘eard anything, but that’s neither ‘ere nor there. I’m not one for much gossiping as you well know. I could ask Cook. She’s got a fair ear for scandal.”
Irisa adjusted the jacket over her amber silk carriage dress before turning to meet the maid’s gaze. “I think that would be best, but Pansy you must be careful. I do not wish to stir up any more tittle-tattle. You must not allow her to get the impression you believe the rumor and do not under any circumstances repeat what I told you about the words between my mother and Lady Preston.”
Pansy contrived to look offended. “I said I wasn’t one for much gossip. I didn’t say I don’t know what I’m about when I choose to participate, milady.”
“Good.” Irisa smiled. “We can discuss your discoveries when I return from my driving lesson with Mrs. Drake.”
***
Irisa urged the horses pulling her sister’s brand new high-perched phaeton to a slightly faster clip as she tried to determine how best to bring up the subject of her thoughts.
Lucas’s fabled mistress.
She had graduated from driving in the park to negotiating traffic in the less congested streets of London and found it challenging to focus on both her thoughts and the horse and foot traffic surrounding the phaeton.
She finally decided the direct approach would be best. She could trust her sister with her secrets. “Thea, I would appreciate your advice on a delicate matter.”
“Of course. Anything.”
For a second time that morning, Irisa repeated the awful conversation she had overheard the night before.
Thea shook her head decisively. “I don’t believe it. Pierson likes Lord Ashton and my husband is a very good judge of character. He also has a strong moral streak. He would never like a man guilty of such a thing and the very idea that there might be a child is absurd.”
Irisa grimaced. “As absurd as Papa fathering a baby outside the bonds of matrimony?”
Thea laid her hand on Irisa’s forearm and squeezed gently. “There were unique circumstances then, sweetie. Besides, Lord Ashton is not Langley.”
Irisa certainly would never have agreed to marry Lucas if she had believed he was like Papa. “How would I go about finding out if Lady Preston was mistaken?”
Thea sighed. “You aren’t going to give up on this, are you?”
“No.”
“I suppose you could make discreet inquiries,” Thea said after a few moments of pensive silence.
“Pansy is talking to Cook even as we speak.”
“That is a start. Do you want me to ask Pierson? Although, I’ll have to say that I think if my husband had heard anything of that nature he would have told me immediately.”
“I’m sure you are right. What else can I do?”
“I suppose if you knew the supposed mistress’s name you could inquire into her finances. There are ways of discovering if Lord Ashton is paying her bills.”
“In that case, I will have to wait to hear what Pansy learns from Cook.”
“Are you certain you wish to investigate this, Irisa?” Thea asked again. “I truly cannot see your gentleman behaving in such an amoral fashion.”
Irisa sincerely hoped Thea was right. “If he does not have a mistress, looking into the matter will do no harm.”
Unexpectedly, Thea shook her head. “I’m not sure that is true. At the very least I can foresee Lord Ashton finding out about it and being quite angry that you do not trust him.”
“It is not a matter of trust. He will have to accept that I had no choice but to investigate Lady Preston’s claims. A lady cannot close her eyes to unpleasantness and expect it to go away. I learned that watching Mama all these years.”
It had not made Irisa any more legitimate for her mama to ignore the truth of her birth. And Mama’s refusal to associate with Thea certainly did nothing to help matters except to possibly make it easier for Mama to ignore reality.
***
Lucas stifled a curse when the butler informed him that Mrs. Drake had taken Irisa for a drive in her new phaeton. Having already called upon his fiancée a
t Langley House and discovering her gone, he did not feel amiable at the prospect that he had once again missed her. Was she avoiding him after their argument the previous evening? Perhaps the things she had said embarrassed her.
“When do you expect them back?”
The butler, who looked more like a pirate than a proper English servant, rubbed the side of his nose. “Well me sight ain’t what it used to be, but that bright yellow carriage coming up the street be them, I’m thinking.”
Lucas turned to see where the butler indicated. The two women riding in the fashionable conveyance were indeed familiar. The amber of Irisa’s gown contrasted nicely with her golden blonde curls and Lucas felt a tightening in his chest at the sight. How could she worry that he did not want her?
His lips had started to tip in a smile of greeting when he noticed who handled the ribbons. Irisa.
Lucas tensed, but reminded himself to stay calm. He had not actually forbidden her to learn to drive. He would have to take this circumstance as an example and be clearer about his wishes in the future. Making an issue of it now would be a waste of time. She obviously already knew how to drive and Irisa would never engage in the dangerous pastime of racing as his mother had done.
Waiting until the last possible moment to slow the horses, Irisa pulled the phaeton to a stop in front of the Drake’s townhouse with a flourish. Mrs. Drake clapped her hands in appreciation and Irisa smiled with pleasure at the praise.
He stepped forward to assist the ladies from the carriage. “Well done, little one, though I could wish you were a bit more cautious when reining the leads in.”
Irisa turned her head in a startled fashion. “Lucas. I did not expect to see you here.”
He handed Mrs. Drake out of the carriage and reached for Irisa. He ignored her extended hand and chose instead to take a more secure grip on her waist and swing her down. He did not immediately let her go either.
He ached to touch her and even this small intimacy was better than nothing. “How could you when I did not know myself I would be here until I called at Langley House to discover you were out?”
Pink tinged the translucent skin of her cheeks. “I had an appointment for a driving lesson with Thea.”
Unable to help himself, he bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. “So I see.”
Ignoring the look of bemusement on her face, he turned and led her into the house. They found her sister in the drawing room giving instructions to a footman regarding tea.
Lucas settled Irisa on a small sofa, taking his place next to her. She shifted to give him more room when his thigh brushed hers.
He raised his brow in silent mockery and turned to her sister. “It appears I owe you my gratitude, Mrs. Drake.”
“Whatever for?” Mrs. Drake asked.
“Evidently you have taught my fiancée to drive.”
“I asked you for instruction first, if you will remember,” Irisa said.
He deliberately brushed her arm, delighting when she jumped. There was no reason for him to suffer alone. And he did suffer, regardless of what she thought.
“So you did.”
Drake and the children joined them for tea. As always, the sight of Irisa interacting with her nephew and niece gave Lucas pleasure. She would be an excellent mother. Her patience with the children and obvious delight in their company marked her as different from his own mother and most other ladies in the ton.
***
“You aren’t angry, are you, Lucas?” Irisa’s quiet voice carried above the clip-clopping of horses hooves on the street as they traveled toward Langley House.
“Why would you think I was angry, Irisa?”
She sighed. “You did not sound overly enthused about the idea of me learning to take the ribbons when we discussed it before.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then you aren’t angry?”
“No.”
“That’s good. Lucas?”
“Hmm?” He turned toward Hyde Park.
“Why didn’t you want me to learn to drive?”
“My mother died while racing her curricle.” And had added the last fillip of notoriety possible to her name.
“I’m sorry,” she said, compassion filling her voice, “but surely you realize that I would never do something so foolish as to enter into a race?”
“Yes. You are the perfect lady in every way, little one.”
She frowned. “No one is perfect, Lucas.”
Rather than argue with her, he shrugged. They were in the park now and Lucas handed her the reins. “Show me what you have learned, my dear.”
She hesitated, but then accepted the ribbons with a sure hand. “I’ve found that I truly enjoy this.”
It showed on her expressive, heart-shaped face. “I’m sorry I did not offer to teach you.”
“I forgive you. I enjoyed the time with my sister. She’s quite patient.”
Before Lucas could reply to that comment, Irisa slowed the horses and stopped alongside another carriage.
The man in the carriage had hawk like features wrinkled with age. The Duke of Pennington.
“Lady Irisa.” His glaring countenance turned from Irisa to Lucas with no appreciable lightening of his expression. “Ashton.”
Tension emanated off of Irisa in almost physical waves. “Your Grace.”
“I read the announcement of your engagement.” That was all he said, no congratulations were added.
“Yes,” Lucas said, forestalling Irisa’s answer...had she wanted to make one. “I made sure it was printed in both our respective shires and here in London. I am quite happy for the rest of the ton to know Irisa has agreed to be my bride.”
She smiled up at him, gratitude for his championship in her eyes. The duke’s dislike of her family after his suit had been rejected was well-known. What Lucas found surprising was the fact the man had waved at Irisa to stop the carriage to converse.
“Humph.” The old man’s eyes narrowed evilly. “She could have been a duchess rather than a mere countess. Silly chit.”
Irisa drew herself erect beside him. “I am more than content with my upcoming marriage.”
The duke made another disgusted sound and motioned for his driver to move on without another word.
“I could not imagine being married to him.”
“A sound notion for any woman with common sense.”
“My thoughts exactly, Lucas.” She grinned and set the carriage in motion again.
However, they had not gone ten feet when she was obliged to halt the carriage again. Perhaps the park had not been the best choice of venues for her to show him what she had learned.
Lady Preston, a woman who showed every sign of following his mother’s destructive path in widowhood, acknowledged them. “Lord Ashton. Lady Irisa. What a pleasant happenstance.”
“Lady Preston.” Lucas inclined his head. “Yardley,” he said to the gentleman sharing the widow’s carriage.
Irisa nodded her head, but said nothing. That was unlike her. She was usually perfectly correct in her address. She had even greeted the duke with a civil tongue. While Lucas found Lady Preston too much like his mother to be comfortable with her, she was still accepted in all the drawing rooms of the ton. Therefore, Irisa’s marked lack of effort to pursue the pleasantries surprised him.
Yardley and Lucas exchanged a few remarks while Lady Preston smiled smugly and Irisa remained still and mute. She set the horses in motion the moment Lucas indicated an end to the conversation.
“Why did you stop?” he couldn’t help asking after the way she had ignored the other woman.
“She waved at me and I did not wish to give her the cut direct. It would have been cause for speculation.”
That explained why she had stopped, but not why she had been so reticent in her speech. “Has she said or done something to offend you?”
“Not precisely, my lord.”
He winced at the formal address, but he thought he understood what motivated Irisa now. She h
ad not wanted to draw comment by cutting the widow, but neither was she comfortable with the other woman’s company. Like Lucas, she did not approve of Lady Preston’s behavior that bordered on the fast.
“I commend your taste in companions, m’dear. She is not a good companion for a lady like you.”
“Why is that?” Irisa asked almost belligerently, making him wonder if his assumptions had been far from the mark.
“Surely you know of her reputation.”
“She’s a widow, Lucas. Widows are afforded a certain amount of freedom among the ton.”
“Regardless, I am glad you show no inclination to form a friendship in that quarter.”
“Will you avoid association with Lord Yardley? If she’s so bad then surely her companions cannot be any better.” Irisa bristled, as if his attitude offended her.
Perhaps it did. She had some odd notions for a female, but as she had said, no one was perfect.
“It is not the same thing,” he chided. “A gentleman’s reputation can withstand what a lady’s cannot.”
Irisa knew the ways of the ton as well as he, and he could not see a reason for the escalating argument unless she was using it to avoid continuance of their discussion at the soiree.
“Are you saying that you ascribe to the double standard common among the Polite World in regard to a gentleman and a lady’s behavior?” Irisa asked in a voice filled with more emotion than their discussion warranted.
Once again he sensed he was missing something important, but there was only one answer possible to her question.
“Not ascribe to, but accept.” It could be no other way. “It cannot be helped and you know it. If Lady Preston continues on her present course it will not be long before many drawing rooms are closed to her while they will remain open to the gentlemen she cavorts with. A man will be granted leeway in his behavior a lady cannot begin to hope for.”
“You are right of course.” She remained quiet for the rest of their drive through the park.
Lucas could not help feeling as if he had failed a test and just as the night she had dressed so provocatively, he had not the vaguest idea what the test had been.
When they arrived at her home, he did not accept her invitation for refreshment as it was so obviously given grudgingly. Now was hardly the time to discuss his desire for her.
