Chapter Twelve
Iris was still reeling from Merritt’s article when her brother came in. Blood had caked around his nose and mouth, and swelling had nearly closed his left eye completely.
“Good heavens, Jasper, what happened to you?”
“I had a run-in with your friend Lord Ashby,” he said.
Iris’s heart thundered. “I don’t believe it. Why would Lord Ashby do this to you?”
She rang for a servant then requested they bring her a basin and rag. They were quick about it and rushed the supplies straight in.
Jasper held the damp rag to his nose and winced as he wiped at the blood. “I may as well tell you, because I’m certain that Ashby will eventually. He discovered I was blackmailing him.”
And just like that, it was as if he’d pulled the rug from under her feet. Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the sofa behind her. “Jasper,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Why would you do that?”
He shrugged. “I needed the funds.”
“And you did not think to simply ask me?” Hurt and anger and confusion collided inside her, swirling into a storm that threatened to consume her.
“You said the last time was the last time. I did not think you would give me the necessary funds to pay off my debt.”
“Perhaps you should stop making wagers you aren’t equipped to pay,” she snapped. “You are no longer a child, Jasper. If you want to be a man, a gentleman of the ton, you should behave as such.”
“As your Lord Ashby does? By pounding on a man in need?”
“He is not my Lord Ashby, and you quite obviously deserved a good pounding.” She folded her arms over her chest and allowed her anger to course through her. She’d been worried about him for so long it was nice to feel something different, even if she was mad enough to box his ears.
“I cannot believe you would say such a thing,” Jasper said.
“You admitted to blackmailing me, and you’re offended with what I said?” she asked. “Honestly, Jasper.”
“Why were you dressed as a man at the theater?” he asked.
“That is none of your concern.” Damnation, if he hadn’t been the one to get her into this mess. Were it not for her brother’s selfish and reckless ways, she might not have ever met Merritt Steele. She wouldn’t be lamenting the fact that she’d lost her heart to the man and, in the process, likely everything else she held dear.
“We are not done with this discussion,” she told him. She grabbed her reticule.
“Where are you going?”
“I shall return. I have someone I need to see.” How could Merritt not tell her that Jasper was the one who’d sent the note? He’d seduced her with deception and continued to hide things from her. And she should be angry that he’d hit her brother, but she couldn’t quite muster up the sentiment since she still firmly believed he’d deserved what he’d received. Jasper was just proud enough that having a swollen face would keep him home for a few nights. Precisely what he needed.
The carriage ride to Merritt’s offices passed in a blur as she went over in her mind what she’d say to him. Rand looked up as she entered the outer offices, and his brows rose when she swung the door violently open.
Then the man’s lips quirked in a grin. “Right this way.”
She followed him into Merritt’s office, then she leveled her gaze at the man now standing behind the enormous wooden desk.
…
“That will be all, Rand,” Merritt said.
“Are you certain?” Rand asked.
“Out!” Merritt said.
Iris paced the length of the space on the other side of his desk. Once the door closed, Merritt motioned for her to take a seat. Anger flared in her eyes and stained her cheeks and neck a lovely pink. She truly was beautiful. “I suspect from your coloring that you’ve seen your brother. You look angry enough to strangle me.”
She took a steadying breath. “You struck him.”
“I did,” he said. “Iris, please sit.”
She eyed him for a moment, then complied. Her gloved hands pinched and gathered her reticle sitting upon her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me it was him? That it was Jasper who recognized me?”
“I only found out when I dropped off the money.” He’d planned to tell her, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to break the news. This was easier, he supposed—for him, at least.
She shook her head against the tears that glistened in her eyes.
Anger he could handle, but tears were another matter entirely. He waited for her to speak, not quite knowing how to proceed.
“I do not understand what I did so wrong with him that he could so callously do this to me.”
Merritt frowned, stood, and came over to the seat next to hers. He was surprised when he reached for one of her hands and she allowed him to take it. Her brother was a selfish arse. Merritt would be heartbroken if he ever made his sister cry. It was hard enough seeing Iris this way. She was the most conscientious person he’d ever known. “Iris, this isn’t a failing in you. Your brother made that choice. The fault is Jasper’s, not yours.”
She sniffed. “No, had I done a better job raising him, he wouldn’t be gambling away his allowance, drinking too much, and blackmailing his own sister.”
Her brother was a fool. Immature, selfish, and just plain spiteful. But he couldn’t tell her that. She wouldn’t agree, and it would only make her angry. Would that he could talk some sense into the boy, but he doubted anything he said would make much of a difference. Besides, his damned articles were partly to blame for this. The boy hadn’t grown up with a father around to show him the way, so he’d relied on so-called advice he’d found in a newspaper.
“He is his own man. He is going to make his own decisions regardless of what you say to him.”
She pulled her hand into her own lap.
Merritt leaned back in his chair. “I would commend you, though, on holding tightly to the family purse strings, else he would have likely bankrupted your entire estate.”
Surprise widened her eyes.
“He explained as much to me.”
“I see.” She was quiet a moment and then asked, “Did you give him money?”
“I won’t lie to you, Iris, I did. Enough to pay off his current debt. And then he and I made an agreement.”
“He is not your responsibility,” she said.
“He’s not yours, either. He is an adult. An earl. He should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”
“He is seven years my junior. I have always taken care of him. Ever since our parents died.”
He’d heard the story from his own sister, how Iris had been set to debut and then her father had died, followed by her mother the next year, preventing an official debut. It wasn’t right. Iris had been dealt a bad hand, and no one had ever given her the option to trade out some cards. If he could help in this one area, he’d do it, with or without her permission.
“I don’t require your assistance, you realize?” she asked.
“I do.” But damned if he didn’t want to help her anyway.
She stood. “It isn’t going to stop you from trying, is it?”
He smiled. “No, it is not.”
She reached into her reticule, pulled out something, and dropped it on his desk. “Then explain to me how you can do this. How you can boast about protecting me and helping me, and then do this.”
A copy of his paper stared up at him.
Damnation. She’d seen it. She’d read the article. He hadn’t expected that until it was reprinted in the Times tomorrow.
His heart sped, but he ignored it. This was business. It wasn’t personal. He’d never allowed other people’s emotions to determine how he ran his paper. But this was Iris.
“I didn’t think you read my paper,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “That is your defense? That you didn’t think I’d see it?”
“It is not a defense, merely a statement.”
“I told you I’d been trained to protect myself,” she said. “Where did you get the rest of the information?”
“I explained to you that I am good at my job. I found the details on my own.” He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest. “My source called herself Lady X.”
“What did she look like?”
“She wore a disguise, so describing her wouldn’t do any good. But perhaps if you told me who in your group is best at that sort of thing, we could figure out her identity,” he said.
“We’re all trained in that skill. In all our skills.”
He frowned. “You know how to disguise yourself?”
“I do.”
“Iris. Why the devil did you need me to dress you as a man, then?”
“Though I know how to create different disguises, I’ve never had need for one and certainly not that of a man.”
“So, her skill in that area doesn’t give us any significant clue except that she’s likely a member of your group.”
“How did you find this woman?”
“I didn’t. She found me. I put the word out that I was looking for information on women with certain skills, and she sent me a notice to meet her.” He explained the carriage, and that he’d tracked it to the carriage house, where he’d been told that the crest was not one of theirs, and that the person who had rented the rig had been a man.
She shook her head. “I cannot believe you did this. You do not know what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t put anyone’s name in the article. You are all still anonymous.”
“Oh well, in that case,” she said, her voice reaching a fevered pitch.
“Iris, calm down. There is no harm done.”
“No harm? Other than completely betraying me?” She came to her feet.
“I brought to your attention that there is a traitor in your midst. Certainly that counts for something,” he said.
“How could you not say you were writing an article on me? You merely hoped I wouldn’t see it.” She shook her head. “There is nothing you can say to fix this, Merritt. I trusted you.”
“No one knows the story is about you. No one ever figures out the identities behind my anonymous stories.”
“Still so prideful and arrogant.” She shook her head with disgust. With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of his office.
He couldn’t help but think she’d also walked directly out of his life.
Merritt left his offices not long after Iris. He couldn’t concentrate on work at the moment. Not when he’d likely destroyed the only person in the aristocracy he’d ever grown to care about. But no sooner had he stepped out onto the street to get into his rig than Christopher Watkins came up to him.
“I’d like a word, Ashby,” he said, his tone much less congenial than it had been the last time he’d approached Merritt.
“Perhaps we should step into my carriage or back in my office for some privacy,” Merritt said.
“The rig will do,” Christopher said.
The door closed on them and the other man’s eyes flared with anger. “Do you have any notion of what you’ve done?”
“Not particularly, though the list seems to be growing today.”
“This is not a jest, Ashby. I realize you didn’t mention any of their names, but do you have any idea how much damage you could do to them should the truth get out?”
“You know about the Ladies of Virtue,” Merritt said.
“Of course I do. My sister is a member. Do you honestly think I would allow her to do such dangerous work without being able to keep an eye on her?” Chris asked.
“You are a good brother.”
“And you, sir, are a bastard.”
“On the contrary, I am a businessman. It is my job to print stories that are of interest to the public. There is not much more interesting than ladies of good breeding foiling thieves on London’s streets.”
“Perhaps, but you’ve now put them all at risk, all in danger. It was not just Iris’s reputation you were toying with.” Chris raked his fingers through his hair. “I thought you were a good sort, Ashby, but I was quite obviously wrong about that.” He opened the carriage door and stepped down. “Good day.”
Merritt wasn’t certain when the realization hit him. Sometime after Iris had left his office or after Chris had confronted him. Or maybe he’d already known, but he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Somehow, in the midst of their time together, he’d fallen in love with her.
He’d foolishly fallen in love with the woman he’d betrayed. Or more to the point, he’d betrayed the woman he’d grown to love. Now he knew he had to convince her to marry him. Though he was still uncertain he’d be accomplished at such a thing, if she’d have him and be patient, he’d love her as best he could. But he also knew there was much to do to convince her that this was real and not simply a deception. The first step in his plan was to speak to her brother.
It hadn’t taken Merritt long to discover where Jasper preferred to spend his time. The boy favored the club Black’s, known for strong drinks and cheap games of cards. When Merritt entered the darkened club, he noted that it was similar to the other clubs in London, but there was a certain cheapness to the tables and furnishings. The entire room smelled of stale smoke and liquor. Merritt winced but moved forward regardless.
He spotted Jasper sitting in the back corner near one of the two large fireplaces. The boy leaned forward, his elbows on both of his knees, and stared into the embers, a contrite expression molded to his face.
“Jasper,” Merritt said as he took a seat adjacent the young man.
Jasper flinched and sat upright.
Merritt held up a hand. “I’m not here to fight you, if that is your concern.”
“Did Iris send you?”
Merritt shook his head. “No, she does not know I’m here.”
“What brings you back to this little piece of London? I would imagine you’re more accustomed to finer clubs,” Jasper said.
“I actually don’t frequent clubs unless it is absolutely necessary.” Though he had initially when he’d assumed the title, because the amount of gossip he’d been able to gather from a simple game of cards had been astounding. “I came to speak to you.”
Jasper motioned for Merritt to continue.
“The reason for my visit is twofold. One, I intend to marry your sister, and though I will do so with or without your blessing, it is customary to seek it from the lady’s closest male relative. That would be you.”
Jasper’s brows rose, and he leaned back in his chair, far more interested than he’d been initially.
“Secondly, if I am to be your sister’s husband, I shall expect some changes in your behavior for the sake of her well-being.”
Jasper was quiet, watching Merritt with eyes eerily like Iris’s.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Merritt asked.
“I haven’t had anything to drink since our little rendezvous in the alleyway.”
“I suppose that’s a start.”
“And I am meeting a friend here later,” Jasper said with a shrug. “I don’t want to quit playing cards. I enjoy it. But I’m not very skilled. He has agreed to tutor me in some strategy.”
Merritt suppressed a grin. “That seems like an excellent idea.”
“You want to marry my sister?” Jasper asked.
“I do.”
“Why?”
“She is delightful. Unlike other women in so many ways.”
“I know all about Iris’s virtues. I’ve heard about them my entire life. Everyone I encounter likes to regale me with all of Iris’s wonderful qualities. She’s the perfect sister,” Jasper said.
It was then that Merritt realized with clarity that Jasper felt inferior to his sister. His reckless behavior likely had much to do with that. Since he didn’t feel as if he could compete with Iris’s accomplishments, he excelled at other activities, namely ones she couldn’t participate in. Or at least shouldn’t. Merritt felt a stab of guilt at the paces he’d put her through with the drinking and trousers.
“I love her,” he said.
“How could you not? Iris is…Iris,” Jasper said with a genuine grin. “She’s hard not to love.”
“Indeed. I do hope I can count on your secrecy with this. I have much to do before I can propose to her again.”
“Again?” Jasper asked.
“She’s already turned me down. Twice.”
Jasper released a hearty laugh. “You are certain she will have you?”
“Yes, I believe I’ve finally figured it all out. Women are complicated.”
“I would clink your glass on that, but alas, I have none.”
“What do you normally drink?” Merritt asked.
“Ale.”
“You should try scotch. It goes down much slower. Harder to overindulge.”
Jasper nodded. “I suppose I should welcome you to the family.”
“Not yet, but soon. Hopefully very soon.”
They talked for another quarter of an hour, and for the first time since Merritt had met Lord Nickerson, he felt certain that, should the young man put forth effort, he’d be able to live a more subdued life. One that would not terrify his sister. One that could make her proud.
Now Merritt was on to his next errand—to pay a visit to one of Iris’s closest friends, Harriet Wheatley. He knew precisely what he wanted to do to convince Iris that he loved her. But he needed her friends’ assistance to succeed.
…
It had only been two days since Iris’s advertisement had run in the Times, but already she’d had several applicants for the position of companion. One in particular had just arrived for a sit-down interview. Iris looked over the woman’s references while the lady sat patiently. She was older than Iris, at least ten years her senior, and had been a traveling companion before, but not outside of Britain.
“It would seem that all your references are in order,” Iris said.
“Yes, my lady. I feel certain that Lady Hornsbeck would have kept me on had she not broken her leg and been unable to travel long distances.”
Iris nodded. Everything seemed right about this woman if Iris were looking for a chaperone, but a companion ought to be a friend. Someone with whom she could laugh and share adventures. This woman with her graying, frizzy hair and pinched expression did not appear to know how to laugh. Though she was qualified. Iris would keep her in the running, but she would most assuredly keep looking.
Just then Agnes and Harriet burst into her parlor, interrupting the interview.
“Oh, we didn’t realize you had company,” Harriet said.
Agnes frowned. “Her butler told us as much.”
Harriet shushed her.
“I believe we were just finishing up,” Iris said. She stood and held a hand out to the pinched Miss Frisby. “I shall be in touch. Thank you for your time.”
The woman shook Iris’s hand, but gave both Harriet and Agnes looks of deep disapproval.
No, she would not do at all. Iris’s friends were nonnegotiable. If someone didn’t like them, then they weren’t for her.
The three of them stood in silence until Miss Frisby left the room. Once she’d closed the door, they all giggled.
“Tell me that is not who you are considering hiring for your travels,” Harriet said.
“Well, I had been, but now I’m not so certain.”
“She seemed awfully severe,” Agnes said.
Harriet held up her hands. “That’s it. If Agnes deems someone too severe, then they are not qualified to spend travel time with you.”
“Perhaps I should include both of you in the rest of my interviews,” Iris said.
Harriet and Agnes exchanged glances.
“What are you two up to?”
“Nothing,” Harriet said perfectly innocently.
“Mm hmm.”
“Though we do have a favor to ask for this evening,” Agnes said.
“Of course you do. Heaven forbid you come to see me for no other reason than to visit.”
“Not true. But yes, tonight we do need a favor,” Harriet said. “You must say yes.”
“Of course. Anything for the two of you. You know that.”
“Excellent. Let us go up to your rooms, then. There isn’t much time to get you ready.”
It was then that she realized that, unlike her, dressed in an afternoon receiving gown, her two friends were quite obviously ready for an evening out. She stopped walking as they climbed the stairs.
“Wait a moment, what is this about?” Iris asked.
“You already agreed,” Harriet said. “You cannot change your mind.”
“She’s right. A promise is a promise,” Agnes said.
“I don’t recall promising.” But she followed them all the way up the stairs anyway.
“Now then, tonight Lucy is having her debut ball. You have been an important part of her life, and it is crucial that you are there,” Harriet said.
Which meant that Merritt would most certainly be in attendance. She’d have to see him. His handsome face and mesmerizing blue eyes. That scruff of whiskers he never quite freed his cheeks and chin of that made her want to run her fingers along their bristle.
Agnes had already nudged Iris down onto the chair in front of the dressing table and begun taking down her hair while Harriet rifled through Iris’s wardrobe.
“You’ve got to have the right dress in here somewhere,” Harriet said.
Iris turned her head quickly to see how far into her armoire Harriet was digging. Panic seized her heart. She tried to stand to stop her friend. Agnes pushed down on her shoulder, though.
“Sit still,” Agnes said. “I’ve got to do your hair.”
“Harriet, don’t bother, I shall find something as soon as Agnes is done here.”
“Iris,” Harriet said quietly. “Why do you have all these mourning gowns?”
Iris closed her eyes, but she knew from the sound that Harriet was pulling them out, one by one.
“They cannot be the ones from your previous mourning periods, because they are current in fashion. There must be at least fifteen here.”
Iris bit down on her lip as tears sprang to her eyes. But she swallowed hard against them and met Agnes’s gaze in the mirror.
“Oh dear,” Agnes said. “You order them because—”
“I never know when I’m going to need them,” Iris finished.
“You’re not going to lose anyone else,” Harriet said.
But she had. Already. She’d lost Jasper. She hadn’t told her friends about her brother’s blackmail, hadn’t been able to bear them knowing that her only relative had betrayed her in such a way. And she’d lost Merritt. Well, she’d never precisely had him, but she’d certainly lost her heart to him.
Iris swiped at her tears. “Enough of this foolishness. Find me a gown and let us get this evening over with.”
Agnes and Harriet eyed one another, then they both nodded, and Agnes went back to working on Iris’s hair.
“Oh, this is the one,” Harriet said as she pulled out one of Iris’s favorite gowns. It was a spectacular shade of gold and did not clash with her hair in the least.
Half an hour later, she was dressed and ready to go. Nerves battled inside her, making her palms damp and her breathing shallow. She could do this. She’d seen Merritt a couple of days before and not given in to the desire to say yes to his proposal, despite there not actually being a scandal to save her from. Despite him not loving her. She wanted to say yes. Desperately. She wanted to be his wife. To wake up beside him every day.
But she knew if she settled for a loveless marriage with Merritt, she would be miserable. She steeled herself with one last glance in the mirror, as if to remind herself that she was strong enough to walk away. She’d been on her own for years. She could continue that way. She certainly didn’t need a man to make her happy.