“No, it is Lord Montgomery.”
“You have not walked in society. I have been called Lord Plunge for many years.” His tone was haughty, but he didn’t look at her, and she could feel the tension in the arm she held.
“So, are you hard of hearing?” Iris asked him again.
“What?” This time he shot her a look. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“You yell when you speak.”
“I do not yell,” he said, doing just that.
“Is that you not yelling?”
His lip twitched, but he said nothing. He then swung her into his arms. Iris placed her hand on his shoulder. One of his went to her back. Theo took her hand in his. Large and warm, even through the silk of his evening gloves, his fingers encased hers.
That odd little shiver of awareness traveled through her as she felt the hard planes of his body briefly before she put some distance between them.
“Will you tell me of your life, Lord Montgomery? How was Eton? I thought of you often.”
“I have long forgotten my time there, and as you can see, my life is exactly as I wish it to be.” Those words did not sound like he was happy. In fact, they were clipped and icy.
“My sister has two children,” Iris said when he did not speak again. “Nieces. Ellery and Anna. They are wonderful.”
His eyes looked down at her again, then away.
“My parents have passed.”
“I know. Allow me to say how sorry I am about their deaths,” he said. His jaw muscles were bunched again.
“Thank you. We miss them very much.”
She felt like there were more than a few inches between them. In fact, it was the entire channel between England and France. So many years and things had happened to each of them, and she had no idea how to talk to this man who was now a stranger to her.
CHAPTERNINE
Monty stared at the ledger before him three days after the ball where he’d seen Iris again. The numbers were a blur. He wondered why now his life had taken another turn. As if all this business with Ackland and his father’s name being on that list wasn’t unsettling enough, seeing Iris had added to that. She was from his past, and with her came memories of his parents, and a life he’d loved.
Seeing her again had stirred something deep inside Monty that hadn’t stirred for a long time. He thought it was possibly longing. The girl she’d been was his friend. She was now a stranger, and he knew that would never change considering the life he now led.
He thought about the bundle of letters he still had in his study. She’d written long stories about her days and funny anecdotes to make him smile when he was at Eton. On the bottom of each, she’d said, “I miss you, Theo. Love, your friend Iris.”
He’d never, not once, written back, but he’d read each letter as it arrived and then again and again. She was the one tie to his past he’d never been able to completely sever when he was at Eton.
Renton’s behavior to her was aggressive and proprietorial. Monty didn’t like it, and after overhearing what he had in the gardens, he was worried for her well-being. How could he ascertain if Iris was safe if he didn’t actually talk to her and find out what was going on? But how could he talk to her as Plunge when no one took the man seriously?
Maybe he’d tell the Devilles his fears, and they could watch over her? They would get closer to her than he could.
Thinking of the Devilles reminded him of the conversation he’d had with Dimity. Clearly, she knew who he really was. Complications came with attachment to people, and he’d avoided that because of living two lives. Now it seemed he’d allowed people in, and the floodgates had opened. Was his identity in danger, and did he care? The short answer was no, but the long answer was his life would become extremely complicated if it was ever leaked who he really was… or more importantly, that he’d been living a lie.
His head actually ached from the continual whirl of thoughts.
“My lord, someone has called,” Haven said from the doorway.
“I beg your pardon?” Monty was now sucking on one of his new favorite treats while he attempted to tally a column for the fourth time. Nathan Deville had introduced him to peppermint sticks, and he’d been hooked ever since.
“Someone has called to see you, my lord.”
“Who? Is it a Deville? Of course it’s a Deville. No one else ever calls, and why wouldn’t they simply turn up as they usually do?” Monty said.
