Chapter Twenty-one
Of all the people who might have caught her sneaking around Hadley House with her clothes askew and her corset tucked under her arm, Iris would have chosen Lady Honora.
“Iris! Oh, thank goodness. I must speak to you at once!”
To be fair, she would rather not have been caught at all, but it could have been far worse.
It could have been Violet.
Iris turned with a sigh, trudged back down the stairs, and met Honora in the entryway. She hid the corset behind her back and sent up a quick prayer Honora wouldn’t notice it, because there was no plausible explanation for it. For the corset, or the handful of buttons missing from her riding skirt, or her hair, which hung in tangled knots down her back, as if she’d been rolling about in bed with a marquess all morning.
Iris winced as another button came loose and hit the marble floor with a ping. Oh, dear God, there was no way Honora would overlook that.
But Honora didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, Iris. It’s such a dreadful business! He was very wrong to have done it, I know that, and you know how I despise wagering of any kind, but to involve a lady in such a sordid business! But he’s like a brother to me, you see, and I’d forgive him anything.”
Iris reached out and pulled a leaf from her friend’s hair. “Forgive who? Have you been wandering around in the woods this morning, Honora?”
Honora raised a distracted hand to her hair. “I’ve just come from the wilderness beyond the garden. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing him, least of all Captain West or Lord Huntington, and oh, Iris! I do hope you’ll forgive me for meeting him after he’s been so dreadfully unfair to you.”
“Honora!” Iris grasped her friend by the shoulders. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Who’s been unfair to me?”
For one sickening moment Iris was afraid Honora was going to say Lord Huntington, but before her heart had a chance to sink, Honora burst into a flood of tears.
“Wrexley! He sent me a note this morning by one of the servants. I shouldn’t have gone to meet him, of course I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t say no, even though he’s been so wicked, and—”
“Why should Lord Wrexley have to send you a note? Why not just see him at breakfast?”
Honora’s mouth fell open. “What, you mean to say you don’t know? Captain West and Lord Huntington have sent him away, on account of the race!”
“The race? What…” All of a sudden it dawned on Iris what had Honora so unhinged, and all the blood left her head at once.
The private horse race Lord Wrexley had arranged—Finn had found out about it.
Iris squeezed her eyes closed and tried to fend off her dizziness. Dear God, he must have been furious. He’d have gone to Captain West at once and the two of them—and likely Lord Derrick as well—must have hunted Lord Wrexley down and sent him back to London.
Last night. It had to have happened last night. That’s why Finn had been so late returning to Hadley House. He’d known last night, and he hadn’t told her.
I meant to discuss it with you last night, but I became distracted.
This time her heart did sink, right down to the bottom of her slippers. In the space of a single day he’d arranged the details of their wedding, put an end to the horse race, and chased Lord Wrexley away, all without breathing a word to her about any of it. What else had he been too distracted to tell her last night?
She hadn’t time to dwell on it at the moment, however, because Honora was now sobbing in earnest. “Honora, calm down. It’s upsetting, yes, but you’ll see your cousin as soon as you return to London.”
“No, I won’t!” Honora wailed, crying harder. “He’s collected the wagers for the race already, and he’s used the money to pay off a debt to Lord Avery. If the race doesn’t take place, he’ll have to pay the money back at once. He doesn’t have it, Iris, and he told me there’s not a gentleman left in London who will accept his vowels. He’ll end up fleeing to the Continent, and then he’ll take back up with that odious Lord Harley and be ruined, and I’ll never see him again!”
“How do you know all this, Honora?” Iris’s head was spinning. “And if Captain West sent Lord Wrexley away, then how have you just seen him the garden?”
“He sneaked back.” Honora took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and pressed a crumpled piece of paper into Iris’s hand. “Here. He sent a servant to fetch me, and asked me to give this to you. I read it. Forgive me.”
Iris unfolded the note, but aside from his apologies and pleas for forgiveness, Lord Wrexley’s note said little more than what Honora had just told her.
With one exception.
His companions were still eager to race. If Iris wished to accommodate them, she could meet them tomorrow morning at a field to the east of the Hadley House property, and the race would go off as originally planned. If she won, Lord Wrexley could pay off his debts and remain in London.
“I don’t ask you to do it.” Honora’s voice was quiet. “He was very wrong to involve you in this. Indeed, I don’t know what to say to you. If I’d known of his wagering, I never would have suggested you encourage his courtship.” Another tear slid down Honora’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Iris.”
“There, now. Don’t cry. You must know I don’t blame you.” Iris enveloped her friend in a tight hug, but even as she murmured comforting words to Honora, her mind was testing and discarding one idea after the next to find a way out of this new tangle.
By the time she’d soothed Honora into a semblance of calm, she had the beginnings of a plan. “Find Violet, Honora, and bring her to Lady Hadley’s sitting room. I’ll go fetch Lady Tallant and Lady Hadley.”
There was only one thing to do that made the least bit of sense.
It was time to call in the ladies.
* * * *
“You don’t owe Lord Wrexley a thing. You do realize that, Iris?”
Violet had been pacing in front of the glass doors that led from the sitting room onto the terrace ever since Iris, with some tearful assistance from Honora, told them the truth about Lord Wrexley.
“Let’s put aside the question of the race for a moment. You might have married Lord Wrexley, Iris, and if you had, you can be sure your fortune would have ended in the pockets of every scoundrel in London. Forgive me, Honora,” Violet added, her face softening when Honora began to weep again.
“I still can’t quite believe it. Such a gentlemanly man. I never would have suspected this of him.” Charlotte shook her head, her lips pulled tight.
Iris glanced at Lady Annabel, who was the only one who hadn’t looked the least bit surprised to learn of Lord Wrexley’s perfidy. She raised an eyebrow at Iris in an unspoken question, and Iris gave her a tiny nod.
Lady Annabel cleared her throat. “Lord Huntington, Iris. What of that matter?”
“He’s…that is to say, we’re both…well, it’s all rather complicated—”
Violet, who’d never had much patience for equivocation, threw up her hands at this. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Iris. It’s not as if anything you’ve said this morning makes the least bit of sense. Just say it, won’t you?”
“Very well, then. We’re betrothed.”
“What?” Violet stared at her. “How can you be betrothed? You’ve jilted him!”
“Twice.” Lady Annabel hid a smile behind her teacup. “But as they say, the third time’s the lucky one.”
“Twice? Whatever do you mean?” Violet looked from Lady Annabel to Iris, her eyes narrowed, but when neither of them answered, she threw up her hands and resumed her furious pacing. “Are you only marrying Lord Huntington because Lord Wrexley’s out of the question now? I know you’re worried about what Grandmother will say, and you want to avoid a scandal, but those are not sound reasons to marry. Grandmother will reconcile herself to the circumstances, and the scandal will fade, but a marriage is forever, Iris.”
“Not always.” Lady Annabel took a polite sip of her tea. “Just as well, too, in some cases.”
No one seemed to know quite what to say to that, and a brief silence descended, but then Iris cleared her throat. “It’s not the scandal, or Grandmother, Violet. It’s…I was wrong about Lord Huntington. He’s really quite…well, I know he might not seem so from a casual acquaintance, but he’s nothing at all like I imagined he was.”
“You’re in love with him,” Violet said, her tone both relieved and irritated at once. “Well, Iris. I’m happy for you, but you could have saved us all a great deal of fuss and bother if you’d realized that two weeks ago.”
Lady Annabel laughed. “Ah, Miss Violet. I think you’ll find when it’s your turn love is many things, but convenient isn’t one of them.”
Violet darted a quick look at Lady Honora, then looked away. “I don’t intend to take another turn.”
“Well, I think it’s lovely.” For the first time that morning, Honora smiled. “I’m very pleased for you, Iris.”
“Yes, it’s a good match. I’ll think they’ll suit.” Lady Annabel winked at Iris. “But of course Lord Huntington won’t be at all pleased over this race business. I assume you’re thinking of racing, Iris, or you wouldn’t have called us here at such an ungodly hour.”
“I’m considering it, yes.”
Violet groaned. “Oh, no. Lord Huntington’s going to go mad when he hears of this. Really, Iris, you do know how to ruin an otherwise perfectly lovely house party. Why in the world would you choose to race?”
“Because Lord Wrexley is Honora’s cousin, Violet, and he’ll be obliged to flee to the Continent if he has to forfeit the money from this wager.”
He might simply turn around and wager it again, of course—wagering was a sickness, and it was made worse when one escaped the consequences of it, not better. But if Lord Wrexley stayed in England, there was at least a chance Honora and Lady Fairchild could help him, whereas if he fled to the Continent, he’d never return.
But there was more to it than that, and it had nothing to do with Lord Wrexley. Violet was right—Iris didn’t owe him a thing. Quite the opposite.
And yet…
She couldn’t quite forget it had been Lord Wrexley who’d encouraged her to run races with him on the lawn that day, and Lord Wrexley who’d arranged her first ride with Chaos. Oh, he hadn’t done it for her, of course. His intentions toward her had been far from honorable. Finn had been right all along when he said Lord Wrexley was only concerned with his own satisfaction.
But however villainous his intentions, Lord Wrexley’s feigned charm and wicked schemes had led to Iris finding a part of herself again. A part she treasured, and one she might have lost for good if he hadn’t happened along. She no longer had any illusions about Lord Wrexley. He wasn’t a good man, but this race wasn’t about him at all.
It was about her.
Perhaps it didn’t make sense, but this was something she felt compelled to do, with a kind of bone-deep certainty she couldn’t dismiss. If she did—if she turned a deaf ear when her every instinct was screaming at her to race, then where would it end? She’d turn a deaf ear the next time too, and then the next, until she’d denied the truth to herself for so long she’d no longer remember who she was anymore.
Finn wasn’t going to approve of this. That much was certain. But if he truly loved her, he’d never ask her to deny such an elemental part of herself, no matter what his objections might be. He’d want her to be who she was as much as she wanted it for herself.
“You’ll want to race Chaos, I expect. Poor Captain West isn’t at all ready for this new debacle, I’m afraid. He won’t like it any more than Lord Huntington does, but I may be able to persuade him.” Charlotte tapped her chin, considering. “He’ll want to see you ride Chaos first, though, Iris.”
“Chaos! What, that enormous gray beast?” Honora went pale. “Surely you don’t intend to race him, Iris?”
“Yes, I do. But only with Captain West’s permission.”
“What of Lord Huntington’s permission?” Lady Annabel raised an eyebrow at Iris.
Violet flopped down onto the settee next to Iris. “She doesn’t need Lord Huntington’s permission. Only Captain West’s.”
Iris smiled at that. Violet tended to see things in black and white. It would be fascinating indeed when her sister fell in love and found herself awash in shades of gray.
Lady Annabel chuckled. “You’re quite right, but I doubt Lord Huntington will see it that way.”
Charlotte sighed. “No, he won’t. He’ll want to manage everything. Men always do, and Lord Huntington more than most. And I warn you, Iris, they’re particularly troublesome when they’re in love.”
“Well, as to that,” Iris said, “I’ll simply begin with Lord Huntington as I mean to go on with him.”
Charlotte glanced at Lady Annabel. “Indeed? How is that?”
“I will always be honest with him and consider his wishes on every matter, but I will never ask Lord Huntington’s permission to do anything.”
Lady Annabel’s lips quirked. “Ah. Well, Iris, I daresay your marriage will be an exciting one.”
An image of Finn’s stern face and changeable hazel eyes rose in Iris’s mind.
Exciting, indeed.
* * * *
Finn didn’t see Iris again until the party assembled in the drawing room for tea, and then he was obliged to sit beside her, chat politely like a proper gentleman, and act as if he wasn’t going mad with the need to touch her.
By the time tea was over, he was ready to devour her.
They both lingered in the drawing room afterwards and waited for everyone to wander off to their own amusements. Violet dawdled for what seemed to Finn an interminable time, fussing with the tea things and studying the chess board until she could no longer ignore Iris’s glare, and left the room with a loud sigh.
It took every bit of Finn’s patience not to slam the door behind her. “Good Lord, I thought she’d never leave.” He caught Iris by the waist, pulled her tight against him, and eased her back against the closed door. “I’ve missed you. Where have you been all day?”
She slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest with a contented sigh. “I missed you, too. I rode with Captain West all morning, then had a bath and fell asleep in my bedchamber. When I woke, it was already teatime.”
Finn brushed his mouth over hers, a soft groan rising from his chest as she parted her lips and stroked her tongue against his. He buried his fingers in her hair to bring her mouth closer, and mumbled against her lips, “Come upstairs with me.”
“What, right now? You’re mad. I can’t do that. Someone will see us.”
He hissed a protest when she gently pushed him away. “What does it matter? We’re betrothed.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Betrothed, not married. You’re aware there’s a difference?”
He grinned down at her, then nuzzled his face into her neck. “I deserved that, I suppose, but it’s a bit late for the distinction now.”
“Ah, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t come upstairs with you, my lord. I only said not now.”
Her blue eyes were teasing as she gazed up at him, and Finn couldn’t resist taking her lips in another deep kiss. They were both breathless when he pulled away. “This is going to be the longest afternoon of my life.”
She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, but her smile dimmed a little, and she looked away.
“Iris?” He turned her face back to his with a finger under her chin. “Is something wrong?”
“No, but I need to speak to you, and I’d just as soon get it over with.”
A dark sense of foreboding Finn couldn’t explain crept over him, raising the hair on his neck. “What is it?”
“I took Chaos out on my ride this morning. Captain West wanted to see how I did on him.”
Finn tensed, but she’d never promised she wouldn’t ride Chaos again, and he could hardly object to it if Captain West hadn’t. “And what was Captain West’s opinion?”
“He was satisfied with my skills. I have his permission to ride Chaos.”
Every one of Finn’s protective instincts bristled, but he forced a deep breath into his lungs. “I’d like to see you ride him myself, Iris, just so I can be easy about it.”
“You can see me ride him tomorrow morning.” She pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from her pocket and pressed it into his hand.
“What’s this?” He looked at her, then down at the paper.
“It’s…well, go ahead and read it.”
Finn noticed the slight tremor in her voice, and he tore open the note.
He read it, and then he read it again, more slowly, and then a third time, but he still couldn’t make sense of it. Wrexley wasn’t even in Hampshire anymore. Finn had set him on the road to London himself, and unless Wrexley had turned back the moment he was out of sight, there was no way he could have—
Except he could. He had. The villain had returned to Hampshire. Jesus, the purse on this race must be staggering for Wrexley to risk returning to Hadley House for it, especially with such little hope of success. He must know Finn would never allow Iris to run the race. Or did he think Iris wouldn’t tell him about it at all?
“I’m running Chaos in the race, Finn.”
Finn froze, certain he must have misunderstood her. “What did you just say?”
She swallowed nervously, but she met his gaze without a trace of hesitation. “I said I’m running Chaos in the race.”
Finn stared at her in silence, then he slowly crumpled Wrexley’s note in his fist. “No, you’re not.”
Her chin lifted. “Yes, I am. Captain West isn’t in favor of the idea, but he’s granted his permission, and Lady Hadley has, as well.”
She’d spoken to Captain West and Lady Hadley before she’d come to him? Finn’s hands clenched into fists, and the calm he’d worked so hard for disintegrated. “I haven’t granted my permission, and I don’t intend to, so there’s an end to it.”
His low furious growl would have terrified a grown man into submission, but she only raised her chin another notch. “I didn’t come to you to ask for your permission, Finn. But I didn’t suppose you’d be pleased, either, so I’ve come to explain the reasons for my decision.”
Finn gripped his hair in his fists. “What possible reason could you have that makes the least bit of sense? You know what Wrexley is—what he’s done. Given half a chance, he would have ruined you, Iris. How can you even consider helping him?”
“This has nothing to do with helping him. Honora says he’ll have to flee to the Continent to escape his creditors if the race doesn’t go off. She’s afraid she’ll never see him again, and she’s made herself ill with worry over it. She’s my dear friend, and not to blame for her cousin’s misdeeds.”
Finn turned and tossed Wrexley’s note into the fire, then stood for a long time with his back to Iris as he drew breath after breath to calm the explosion of emotions threatening to steal his reason. When he turned to face her again, he was calmer. “I’m sorry for Lady Honora, but if she really is your dear friend, she won’t ask you to risk your safety and reputation for her sake. As for Wrexley, he may find his own way out of the mess he’s created—one that doesn’t require him to endanger my betrothed.”
“I’m not just your betrothed. I’m also me.” Iris’s voice was quiet. “Don’t you see? This isn’t about Lord Wrexley, or even Honora. Riding Chaos, racing him to help my friend—that means something to me. I can’t explain why, exactly, but it has to do with feeling as if I’m utterly myself, like I did when I was a child and rode with my father. I won’t brush aside something that matters to me because you don’t like it, Finn. Who will I become if I simply give way to you in everything? I can’t do it, and you…you shouldn’t ask me to.”
Finn’s throat worked. He wanted to tell her he heard her, that he understood, and that he’d never ask her to give up something she needed for him, but what if he said so, and then found he couldn’t keep his promise? What if he said it, and it turned out not to be true?
No answer came.
She laid her hand on his chest, her eyes pleading. “You said…I thought this was what you loved about me, Finn.”
It was. Wasn’t it? Jesus, he hardly knew anymore. He only knew it was all coming at him at once—the anger, the fury, the jealousy and the fear—and he didn’t know how to do anything but raise his fists and fight against it.
“I thought so, too.”
Finn froze at the stark misery that clouded her eyes when those words left his lips, and he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see it.
Her hands fell away from his chest.
She crossed the room to the door, but before she went out, she paused and turned back to look at him. “I love you, Finn…so much, but this is who I am. I can’t be someone else for you.”
She paused, as if waiting for him to say something, but he remained silent.
After a moment the door clicked softly, and when Finn turned, she was gone.