Chapter Five
Iris wore one of her best day dresses, since she’d just come from a meeting of the Ladies of Virtue. It had been two days since Lord Ashby had kissed her. Two days and she still could feel his lips on hers. Until his note had arrived that morning, she hadn’t heard from him since that day. Initially, she’d thought he’d given up, changed his mind about their wager, about her helping his sister.
Then his note had come, inviting her to his home that afternoon to meet Lucinda. Still, she couldn’t help but pat her hair and straighten her shawl to make certain everything was in place before she knocked at Lord Ashby’s townhome.
Seconds later a young man opened the door. He was strikingly handsome, almost in a pretty sort of way. He was not the butler from the other day.
“Lady Iris, I presume?” he asked. “I am Rand, Merritt’s assistant from the paper, and his oldest friend.”
She nodded. “I believe his lordship is expecting me.”
“Yes, they are waiting for you in the parlor,” he said, his tone less than welcoming. “Follow me.” He closed the front door behind her then led her a short distance down the corridor to a room to their right. She watched his movements closely, trying to memorize them. When it came to her own charade, she could easily mimic his mannerisms. He brought her to a different room than Lord Ashby’s study, and as Iris entered, she could see that it was a tastefully decorated parlor.
Lord Ashby and his sister were standing when Rand announced Iris into the room.
“Thank you, Rand,” Lord Ashby said.
Rand bowed. “My pleasure, my lord. Anything else?”
Lord Ashby shook his head. “You’ve done plenty. I believe this is still a workday, and my paper is not going to run itself. Perhaps you should get back to work.”
Rand withdrew from the room without a good-bye to anyone, merely a sigh.
Lord Ashby’s sister was all smiles as she came forward to meet Iris. “Lady Iris, I have heard so much about you!” the girl said.
“And I you,” Iris said.
The girl gripped Iris’s hand in both of her own and held on tightly. “I’m so very excited.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Iris pulled her hand free. She then curtsied. “My name is Iris Bennington. Very pleased to meet you.”
When the girl hadn’t provided her name, Lord Ashby spoke from the sofa where he’d taken a seat. “Introduce yourself, Lucy. Properly, as we discussed.”
Iris did her best to ignore how the rich timbre of his voice warmed her.
His sister bobbed her head enthusiastically then frowned as she bent herself into an awkward curtsey. “Lucinda Steele. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Iris nodded, but made no move from her spot in the center of the room. As Lucinda stood and stared at her, Iris cleared her throat. “You should invite me to sit,” Iris said quietly.
Lucinda winced. “Right! So sorry. Please sit.” She at least at the foresight to wait until Iris had done so before following suit.
“Now then, what is it that you hope to get out of our instructions?” Iris asked her.
“I want to go to balls and dance all night and walk in the gardens and meet a handsome man and fall in love and—”
“Lucy, one thing at a time,” Lord Ashby said. “For now, you wish to be polished enough to be introduced to Society and attend social functions.”
She nodded carefully.
The girl was pretty, with dark hair and piercing light eyes, much like her brother. But unlike him, she was all smiles except when she was concentrating. Iris hadn’t anticipated quite this much work to prepare the girl for Society. She was far too expressive for the likes of the matrons. They’d destroy her in one evening.
“Perhaps we should aim for something quieter than a ball,” Iris said. “The theater or the opera. It might be easier to transition into Society if she could observe them from the safety of a box. You do have a box, do you not?”
Lord Ashby turned his cerulean eyes toward her. “I believe I do. It is not a bad idea.”
She wasn’t certain if she should say “thank you” or if that wasn’t much of a compliment.
“The theater?” Lucinda said, disappointment thick in her question. “I had hoped to meet new people. You cannot speak at the theater, can you?”
“Well, not during the show, but during intermission and at the beginning and end in the lobby,” Iris said. “I am not discounting balls or soirees. Just not to start.”
Lucinda nodded. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at the floor, and it was as if Iris has extinguished the light inside the girl. She could hardly bear to disappoint her so, but she also knew that introducing the girl now would most certainly lead to her ruin, or at the least create quite the scandal.
Iris met Lord Ashby’s gaze and hoped he understood her look.
“Lucy, dear, would you go and see about some tea for us?” he asked.
The girl stood and left the room without a backward glance.
“What?” he asked once they were alone.
“She is…” Iris grappled for the right word.
“Unrefined?”
“I was going to say enthusiastic. ’Tis not a bad thing, but…”
“Lady Iris, it will do us no good for you to be anything but completely forthcoming with me,” he said.
“Very well. They will destroy her.”
“All of them?”
“The matrons, in particular, but other girls as well. Society is cruel.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said, his words dripped with sarcasm. “I am rather familiar with the cruelties of the aristocracy. Why do you think I write what I do in my paper? It does not stem from admiration.”
“If you hate Society so much, why put your sister in it?”
“Because it is what she wants. And I happen to believe that once she’s out there, she’ll see for herself how wretched the people are, and she’ll come to her senses.”
“You truly do not think highly of us.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, well, they can be particularly nasty to women.” Iris shook her head. “I’m not certain I’m the one to do this. Or that it can be done. At least, not in time for this Season.”
He shook his head. “No. You will not quit that easily. If you can endure the measurements from the other evening, you can do this.” He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees, and the look was so masculine that she nearly lost her breath. “If I can pass you off as a gentleman, then you should have no problem passing my sister off as a lady. At least with Lucy you have the correct sex.”
He had her there. She looked away from him then. His handsome face was far too distracting for her mind to work properly. She wasn’t normally one to back down from a challenge, and after all, this entire thing she was doing was to save her brother. Certainly, she could understand Lord Ashby’s quest to do the same for his sister. Perhaps she could get some of her friends to assist her.
“Very well, but we’ll need to begin work immediately, and she will need to be willing to do and say everything I ask of her.”
He nodded. “She is compliant.”
“And sweet.” Iris smiled. “That, I can plainly tell. I am merely trying to save her some embarrassment.”
“You have an impeccable reputation, Lady Iris.”
At that, her brows shot up.
“Yes, I do my research. I asked around about you. I know that if anyone can help Lucy, it is you.” He gave her a smirk. “You need only remember all of the requirements of our agreement.”
“I haven’t forgotten any of them. I fully intend to win this little challenge of ours so that rubbish you’re publishing as advice shall disappear and my brother can cease his foolish behavior.”
“My dear lady, you do realize that boys the world over have been making poor decisions for centuries. I hardly believe his behavior is so dependent on my words.”
She cocked her head. “Your words?”
“Figuratively,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.
“No, you meant that literally. You not only publish those articles, you are the author. I suppose that makes sense, since you are so proud of them.”
“The author of said articles has no relevance to this situation.”
“It does. Before I can begin working with Lucy, I need to hear you say it.”
He frowned. “That I’m the author?”
“No, that you will agree to pull the publications. And print a retraction.”
He eyed her for several moments. “You can ensure that my sister is accepted?”
“I can ensure that she will be accepted within my small group of friends,” she said.
“I will agree to cease printing the articles, but I shall not print a retraction. Also, I will speak to your brother directly, if you believe it would help.”
“My lord, my brother has taken the time to read your articles so carefully that he has made notes in the margins and underlined his favorite parts. I think meeting you would be a disaster for him,” she said.
Iris was alight with nerves as she waited for Lord Ashby to arrive. He’d said tonight they’d begin her lessons. Tonight, he’d teach her how to be a gentleman, and she, in turn, would teach him the ridiculousness of his advice. Normally, she would not have worn such a nice gown for an evening at home, but she wanted to look every bit the genteel lady so that he’d quickly realize his foolishness. It had nothing to do with hoping to look more attractive to the dashing merchant’s son turned earl.
She’d already instructed her housekeeper to see Lord Ashby directly in when he arrived, as they had important business to attend to.
Even though the parlor in which she waited was all the way at the end of the corridor, she still heard the heavy front door open and close when he arrived. She shook her hands in front of her and resituated herself on the settee with the book she’d been pretending to read. She’d glanced at the same paragraph at least a dozen times in the last twenty minutes.
“My lady, Lord Ashby for you,” the housekeeper said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds, you may retire for the evening,” Iris said, coming to her feet.
The housekeeper questioned nothing, she merely curtseyed and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Lord Ashby pointed behind him. “Do you trust her?”
“Implicitly. She’s protective of me and my brother.” Iris gave him a smile. “She likely won’t go far on the off chance that you try to rob me and I scream.”
“I can think of far more pleasant ways to make you scream, my dear lady,” he said.
It was on her tongue to inquire as to what he meant, but she thought better of it. “Will this room work? I wasn’t certain what we’d be doing this evening.”
He did not take his eyes off her. “For this evening, this room shall suffice.”
It was then that Iris noticed he carried a small trunk with him.
“I brought everything we need for tonight’s instruction.” He motioned her back to the settee. “Go ahead and sit.”
He carried the small trunk to the occasional table in front of her and opened it. He withdrew two glasses and a decanter of amber colored liquid and set them down. Next came a small deck of cards, which he laid on the table before he poured them each a glass.
“We have brandy here,” she said.
“Well, I wanted to be certain you had the appropriate drink. And since you’re so opposed to your brother imbibing, I wasn’t confident you’d have any on hand.”
“I never said I opposed him imbibing.”
He handed her one of the glasses. “Didn’t you?”
“Not precisely. I do not care for indulging in spirits for the sake of indulgence. It is my understanding it can cloud your judgment and bring about potentially dangerous behavior.”
His dark brows rose ever so slightly. “Cheers.” He held up his glass to hers.
She clinked hers against his and suddenly felt as if she’d just sealed her fate.
Good heavens. Her mother had been right; she did have a flair for the dramatic. She took a slow sip, and the brandy burned her tongue and throat.
He grabbed the deck of cards, separated them, and then shuffled them back together. Again and again he did this, until they were to his liking, then he dealt them each a hand. “I’m going to teach you to play faro. It is the most popular card game at most gambling establishments.” He dumped a handful of coins onto the table, then divided them up. “These are your checks, though at a gaming hell, they’ll be chips, not actual money pieces.”
“Who taught you how to play?”
He looked up at her, then cleared his throat. “My father did.”
“Was he a good man?”
Lord Ashby smiled. It was equal parts wistful and fond. “He was a very good man. Made his fortune as a merchant and taught me much.”
“My lord—”
“I think it is past time that we stop using such formal ways to address each other. You may call me Merritt, and I shall call you Iris,” he said.
He poured her another drink, and this one she found didn’t burn nearly as much as its predecessor, so she took a bigger sip. It warmed her all the way down her stomach to her feet. She wiggled her toes inside her slippers.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said. “You might think I don’t, but I’m rather clever.”
A grin slid onto his face. “I haven’t the slightest notion what you’re talking about,” he said.
She waved a hand and made some sort of noise with her mouth. “You…” She poked one finger into his chest. “Are trying to scare me off. You”—again she jabbed him in the chest—“are not taking this bargain of ours seriously.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. The other afternoon, pretending to measure me.”
“I did measure you. In fact, your trousers should be delivered tomorrow,” he said.
“But the way you touched me,” she said. “And then you kissed me.” She took another gulp of her drink.
“Yes, I did,” he said. He leaned back against the settee and stared openly at her.
“Why did you kiss me?”
He shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”
She leaned forward. “You were trying to frighten me away. Well, let me assure you that it isn’t going to work. Your kisses don’t frighten me in the least.”
“They don’t?” His voice was warm and decadent.
“No.” She had nearly crawled into his lap, she’d gotten so close to his face. “I rather enjoyed kissing you. What do you have to say to that?” From this vantage, she could see the precise shade of his eyes…that shimmering blue that could only be found in the tail feathers of peacocks.
“I enjoyed kissing you, as well.”
She hadn’t expected that response. “Oh.”
He pulled her fully onto his lap. “This is not gentlemanly behavior,” he said.
She giggled. “Yours or mine?”
“Either.” And then he lowered his mouth to hers.
His body felt warm and hard against her, the strength of his muscular frame was undeniable. The desire that seemed to course between them was a real and vibrant thing, as if it had taken a life all its own.
Iris knew better than to allow him such liberties, and she certainly knew better than to want him. She couldn’t afford to want him. Desire would only lead her down the road to affection and love and eventual heartache. He might be new to Society, but he was quite obviously skilled in romancing a woman, whereas she was a complete novice.
“I know I am nothing more than a diversion for you. A novelty. Perhaps you’ve not kissed many genteel ladies, or at least, not virginal ones.” She laughed and then hiccupped. Then she walked her fingers up his chest. “This is a risky game.”
Considering all of that, she shouldn’t allow him to kiss her and to run his hands so deliciously up her spine. She knew all those things. But when Merritt’s lips touched hers, all logic and good sense seemed to dissolve. Her body took over, and her body wanted him.
His kiss was firm and gentle, persuasive yet unrelenting. His tongue stroked hers, sending fissures of pleasure deep into her stomach. She relaxed against him, relishing the strength of his body, the hardened muscles, the very height and breadth of him.
Desire coiled through her, hot and needy, like a living, pulsing thing. Like a separate entity over which she had no control. And then, as abruptly as he’d pulled her to him, he set her aside.
“No,” he said swiftly and came to his feet. “This arrangement between us is not going to work.” He swiped a hand across his mouth then gave a brief nod. “Good evening, Lady Iris.”
Then he was gone. One moment he was kissing and touching her in a way she’d never imagined, making her feel things she couldn’t have fathomed, and then he was gone, leaving her cold and confused. It was almost sobering.
…
What the hell was he doing?
He wished he’d brought his horse instead of a carriage so he could have doused himself with the cold evening rain. But he was resigned to riding in the confined rig and thinking about everything that had just transpired. How she’d been so warm and willing in his arms. He was not particularly accustomed to virginal ladies, but he’d assumed they would be coy, more guarded with their virtue.
Lady Iris’s behavior had bordered on brazen, and the combination of her naïveté and boldness was intoxicating. Granted, she had been the one intoxicated, but she’d asked him about why he’d kissed her and then boldly proclaimed she’d enjoyed it. And like a cat offered milk, he’d leaped at the chance to have it again. He’d foolishly pulled her into his arms, pretending that it was to frighten her but knowing full well it was because he wanted the little minx in a way he’d never wanted another woman.
Having a relationship with Iris Bennington aside from this ridiculous bargain was out of the question. He had promised himself long ago that even though he had claimed the title, he would never slide fully into the role of an aristocrat. That meant never getting married…certainly not to a woman of Society.
Before now, he had never been tempted. Oh, but Iris was damn near irresistible. She seemed so different from other ladies of her rank. She had more substance, more spine, than any woman he’d ever met, gently bred or not.
Yet that made her more dangerous.
He’d worked too hard and too long to allow some innocent miss to derail him by persuading him she wasn’t like the rest of the aristocracy. She had even said herself that he hadn’t kissed many genteel ladies. She knew they weren’t the same, she and him. If he allowed himself to believe she wasn’t as conniving and scheming as the rest of them, he’d make other concessions, and soon he’d find himself fully entrenched in Society, considering those arrogant bastards to be friends of his.
No, Iris was far too dangerous for him. He’d simply have to find another lady willing to tutor Lucy. Certainly he could find a gentle-born lady in need of funds that he could pay handsomely to do the task. Perhaps Iris would provide him with a recommendation.
The rig stopped, and he glared at the sky when he stepped outside. Everything was dry, though the moon peeked in and out of the heavy clouds overhead. Rain would be here soon, but he couldn’t stand out here and wait. His neighbors already eyed him as if he’d offed the previous earl himself to snatch the title. He couldn’t feed their suspicions while punishing himself for taking liberties with a lady.
He’d have to be satisfied with going to bed frustrated and still heavy with desire. He’d no sooner resigned himself to that fact than he was bombarded by his sister, bounding into the corridor.
“Merritt, you are finally home,” Lucy said.
“Indeed.” He’d hoped she would already be asleep so he could think on what to tell her, how to break it to her that he’d cancelled the arrangement with Lady Iris and it would take a while longer for her instruction to begin. But here she was, looking as hopeful and excited as ever. He wondered where she got such a zest for life, such an optimistic view of the world; it certainly hadn’t been from either of their parents. His father had been jaded. He’d worked hard to amass a nice fortune for his family and been angered that people still looked down upon them because of their status.
His mother had not been enchanted by Society the way Lucy seemed to be; instead, she had feared the upper classes. Every visit they’d made to his uncle, the former Earl of Ashby, his mother had trembled and fumbled with her manners, trying desperately to get things correct and not embarrass herself. His father had never attended with them, stating that he was far too busy to kiss the earl’s arrogant arse.
“Did you go anywhere exciting this evening?” Lucy asked.
“Not particularly.” He rid himself of his coat, handing it to their butler. “Thank you, Jackson.”
Lucy twirled as if dancing with an imaginary suitor. “I am so looking forward to tomorrow. What do you suppose she’ll teach me first? I do hope it’s dancing.” She clapped her hands together in anticipation. “I am so excited to be working with a true lady.”
“Yes, about tomorrow…”
She frowned at the tone of his voice, then she brought her hands to her mouth. “What happened? She believes me a lost cause?”
He exhaled slowly. He couldn’t bear to disappoint her. “No, of course not. She said to be there at promptly two o’clock.” He’d have to send a notice to Lady Iris informing her that their agreement was still in place. And in the meantime, he’d have to figure out a way to stop wanting her. Or, at the least, to keep his hands off her.
Lucy kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Merritt. You are the very best.”
…
Iris pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.
Was the sun normally this bright in the morning? She was on her second cup of tea, but so far it didn’t seem to be helping. She’d have preferred to stay abed for a while longer, at least until this dreadful feeling ceased. But she’d received a note from Agnes and Harriet confirming that they’d be there for luncheon so they could discuss Lucinda’s instruction.
She would do her best to be amiable to her friends, but it was challenging today. She’d already sent one maid scurrying when she’d yelled after the girl had tried to open the curtains. The sunlight had felt like sharp knives going straight into her eyes. She would have closed them and lain back on the settee if her friends hadn’t chosen that precise moment to burst through the doors.
“It is a glorious day,” Harriet said loudly.
Iris winced.
“Oh dear,” Agnes said. “Are you ill?”
Harriet stopped mid-stride and considered Iris. “You look positively dreadful.”
“Thank you. You are the dearest of friends,” Iris said. Then she shook her head. “No, I am not ill. It would seem I imbibed too much last night.”
Harriet nearly ran to her and sat adjacent to the settee in a gold-hued upholstered chair. “Do tell.”
Iris closed her eyes, shook her head, but stopped immediately when the movement made her feel as if her eyeballs might rupture. “Instructions on how to be a gentleman. Evidently I cannot hold my liquor.”
“Well, you are tall for a lady but certainly not as large as most men,” Agnes said. “Perhaps next time merely sip slower.”
Iris glared at her friend. Why must she always be so bloody practical?
“Excellent advice,” Harriet said. “The note you sent yesterday seemed most eager.”
“I sent the notes prematurely it would seem.” Iris shook her head. “I believe I must have offended Lord Ashby last night. He left in quite the rush and seemed rather annoyed. As he was leaving, he said that our arrangement could not continue.” She massaged her temples and closed her eyes.
“You do not require our assistance today?” Agnes asked.
Iris sighed. “It would seem not.”
Harriet clicked her tongue. “Nonsense. She obviously needs our aid. If not with your previous dilemma, then with the matter at hand.” She came and sat by Iris, putting a soothing hand on her back.
Iris opened one eye.
“What could you possibly have done to offend Lord Ashby?” Harriet asked.
Iris dropped her head into her hands. “It was awful,” she said, her voice muffled by her palms. “I flirted with him. Aggressively.”
“Iris,” Agnes said.
Iris sat upright, willing to face her friend’s chastisement. “I was brazen and out of control. And today I feel horrible and humiliated.”
Agnes’s frown deepened, whereas Harriet did a poor job of covering her wide grin with her gloved hand.
Just then, a maid brought in a tray. “Mrs. Reynolds suggested this would help.” She set the small plate down and curtsied as she left the room.
“Dry bread?” Harriet asked.
Iris grabbed a piece and tore off tiny bites. She’d emptied her stomach several times over the course of the evening and knew that she wouldn’t feel herself again until she’d eaten.
“My brother always swears by sleeping for several hours,” Harriet said.
“Your brother is a cad,” Agnes said.
“Indeed,” Harriet said. “Now then, back to Iris’s evening. So, you flirted with him. You have flirted with gentlemen before.”
“Not quite like this. I told him I enjoyed his kisses.”
Harriet sucked in a breath.
“When have you had the experience of enjoying his kisses?” Agnes asked.
Iris waved her hand. “That is a bit of a story as well. He kissed me again, but only because I practically begged him to do so. And now I have ruined this bargain we had, which means I’ve failed in my task, not only with the Ladies of Virtue, but also with Jasper. Now Lord Ashby has no reason to do me any favors. Furthermore, I destroyed any claim I had to proper behavior. How can I continue to be incensed by those ridiculous articles if I acted the wanton in his arms?”
“We have other issues to manage,” Agnes said. “That of your virtue. Does he need to be made to see reason, do right by you?”
“Oh, good heavens. He compromised you?” Harriet asked.
“No. No.” Iris shook her head in denial. “It was a kiss, that is all.” Well, it wasn’t merely a kiss. It was passionate and seductive, and had he tried to pursue things further, she wasn’t certain she would have stopped him. She felt compromised, but her virtue remained intact. Granted, there were plenty in London that would not see it that way, but that wasn’t her concern now.
A footman came in with a tray. He brought it over to Iris. “A message came for you.”
“Thank you,” Iris said. Once the footman had left, she looked up from the note. “It’s from him. Lord Ashby.”
“Read it!” Harriet said, clapping her gloved hands together.
My dearest Lady Iris,
I do hope you will accept my apology for my abrupt departure. I meant not what I said, and of course, our agreement still stands. Lucy will arrive at your address promptly at two o’clock. If this does not meet your approval, please send notice.
Rub a bit of vinegar on your temples to ease that headache.
Affectionately yours,
Merritt Steele, Earl of Ashby
“Oh goodness. That gave me the shivers. He sounds positively divine,” Harriet said.
“You say that about everyone,” Agnes said.
“Do you disagree?” Harriet asked.
“Not entirely. His apology is quite appropriate, though, he did not mention taking liberties with you,” Agnes said.
“Perhaps because I took liberties with him,” Iris said. She rang for a maid and promptly requested vinegar. She was willing to try nearly anything to rid herself of this pesky headache. Oddly enough, though, it was distracting her from the warmth that had bloomed in her belly at the sight of his words. He’d known she’d not feel well this morning. And he’d apologized. Did that mean he didn’t regret kissing her?
She shook her head. “I must rid my mind of kisses. His, or anyone else’s,” she said. “I must focus on Jasper. I refuse to allow him to end up as I have.”
“Honestly, Iris, we are all unmarried,” Agnes said.
“You are only unmarried because your brother threatens any man who comes near you,” Harriet said.
Agnes exhaled. “Perhaps, but it matters not to me. I’m in no rush to marry. Waiting means I’ll land a gentleman who can appreciate more than my coffers.”
“Or your beauty?” Harriet asked.
Agnes screwed up her face and shook her head.
It was amusing how their friend did not see her own beauty. Agnes was, in a word, stunning, with her large, blue eyes and porcelain skin and perfect, rosebud lips.
“We are all handsome women,” Agnes said.
“Indeed,” Iris said. The maid brought in a small vial of vinegar, and Iris dutifully dabbed some at her temples. The stench burned her eyes, so she leaned back onto the settee and closed them.
“Lucy is coming in a little over an hour,” Harriet said. “What precisely are we to discuss with her?”
“I have a more pressing question,” Iris said, not bothering to lift her head or open her eyes. “Have either of you identified the gentleman you will reform? I will not do this on my own.”
“I have,” Harriet said enthusiastically. “The Marquess of Davenport. He is the very embodiment of greed. It is repulsive.”
“Excellent choice,” Iris said. But she did not say that she suspected that Harriet had always fancied the marquess.
“I have not completely decided, but I am leaning toward the Earl of Wakefield. He is a wastrel,” Agnes said.
“And your brother’s closest friend,” Harriet said.
“Christopher need not know of everything I do,” Agnes said. “Even though he seems to believe he has every right to. Besides, he still does not know the truth of the Ladies of Virtue. I can keep this new project hidden, as well.”
“It seems that the Winthrop Ball would be the perfect opportunity to approach them,” Iris said.
“That is only two days away,” Agnes said.
“Then you’d best decide what you’re going to say,” Harriet said.