“Oh, my dear,” she said near Iris’s ear. “Are you all right?” She leaned back and framed Iris’s face with her cool, slight palms, sliding her hands around as if feeling for fever.
“I am well, my lady,” Iris assured her, a lovely, warm feeling blooming in her chest. It had been so long since anyone had cared for her welfare, and Iris hadn’t realized how much she missed it. Perhaps her own mother would have done the same thing. “I came as soon as I had changed, so as not to be seen.”
“Good girl,” Caris praised. “But, my God. That terrible, dead man. You didn’t touchhim, did you?”
“No.” Iris led Lady Hargrave to her usual post before the window, where the tray of milk and cheese was already laid. “Forgive me my prying, milady, but what is being said about Cletus’s death?”
Caris sighed again, closing her eyes briefly, as if the strain of remembering was nearly too much for her to bear. “Padraig Boyd, of course, is under suspicion. That savage interloper would do anything to shame this house.”
Iris hesitated, swallowed. “Do you think, perhaps, the meatwas poisoned?”
Caris’s eyes went wide. “Who could know? Oh, it’s so distressing. At least the spectacle of it took away Lady Paget’s attention from you.”
“Did she notice me?”
“She did,” Caris said gravely. “I had to assure her that you were no one. You could in no way have a hand in the dastardly goings-on.”
Iris gasped. “Shesuspectedme?”
“Oh, yes,” Caris confirmed. “She saw you stay Padraig Boyd’s hand.”
Iris’s stomach did a turn.
“But have no fear, my dear,” Lady Hargrave said with a gentle smile. “You were right. She did not recognize the face of her maid even after such scrutiny. I don’t think we’re in so much danger of being found out.”
Iris tried to calm her galloping heartbeat. “Milady,” she began. “May I ask you something…of a personal nature?”
Caris blinked butdid not answer.
Iris knelt down at the woman’s side, clasping her shaking hands on her thighs. “Are you…afraid ofLord Hargrave?”
Caris Hargrave’s face was a pale mask of serenity in the flickering glow of the candlelight, and Iris wondered how many years of practice the woman had needed to steel herself from emotional response. It was as if Iris hadn’tspoken at all.
“Of course not, my dear.” She paused for a moment. “Why would you think me to be fearful of my own husband?”
“Forgive me, my lady,” Iris whispered. “But I thinkyou know why.”
Caris broke gazes with her to look out the window, and it was several long, tense moments before she spoke. “I feared you would hear rumors once you were away frommy protection.”
“I know you have tried to protect me,” Iris rushed. “And that is the only reason I now speak of it. I fear foryou, milady.”
Caris turned her head to regard Iris once more, and now her eyes were wide with surprise. “For me?”
“Yes,” Iris insisted. “If you should…continue to tryto protect me.”
“Ah,” Caris said with a sad little smile. “I see. Oh, my dear.” She sighed and then held out her hands, into which Iris placed hers. “You must listen to me very carefully, Beryl. And after I have said what I must say, you must promise me that we will never again speak of it.”
“But, milady—”
“No,” Caris interrupted. “I am still your lady, and I will have your word.”
Iris clenched her jaw. “I promise.”
“Thank you. I will hold you to that. Now, you have no experience with what it is like to be married. In fact I would dare say it is precisely because of men that you have ended up in your particular circumstances. And so you must allow me to advise you as I would advise my own daughter, were she here with me. Cordelia. Even Euphemia. So much alike. So much like you—ready to right the world.”
Iris nodded once but said nothing, letting the woman have herreminiscences.
“When one takes the vows of marriage, it can be convenient to forget that the person you are bonding yourself to may not always be the person you’d hoped for. They may possess…peculiar tastes, of which their spouse might be…dismayed upon learning. Bad habits. Undesirable urges. Perhaps even things that are…awful.” Caris paused, and her hands squeezed Iris’s as her eyes pleaded. “Sinful things,” she insisted.
