CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Iris had not slept well again. It was now four days after she’d given Theo that letter and the other papers. She’d been unsettled since. She’d tossed and turned every night, thinking about the conundrum that was Lord Theodore Montgomery and that kiss.
His hand had cupped her cheek, the gesture intimate and gentle. No man had ever treated her with such tenderness. He’d not demanded a response from her, but she’d given it. Felt the warmth of his touch slide through her body like warm honey.
When she’d pressed her hand to his chest, she’d felt the thud of his heartbeat and known that he was as affected as she by what they were doing.
After her late husband passed, Iris had never wanted to be with a man again. But that kiss… it was different. Had made her feel different. She hadn’t felt fear having Theo close, and she’d wanted his touch desperately.
Wanted to fall into his arms in that moment. Wanted to let him hold her like she’d once longed to be held.
“Who are you, Theo Montgomery?” Iris wondered.
She’d seen a different side to the man in this very house when he saw what else her husband’s papers held. He’d looked fierce and nothing like the primped and pampered lord she’d first met again in that ballroom.
What game was Theo playing, and why? He’d been Lord Plunge for many years now because she’d asked her aunt and uncle about him. But she was certain there was another side to Theo. The side he’d allowed her to briefly see.
Henry rarely talked about anyone who called at their house unless it was her aunt and uncle, whom he loved. But he’d mentioned Lord Montgomery twice now.
Henry told her that Theo had said he was her son’s friend.
Iris found she did not mind that. Yes, she did not know what was going on with Theo, but she felt deep inside he was a man they could trust. Surely there was some of the honor his parents had instilled in him in the man she saw today. The boy she’d known had certainly been that and more.
Wandering through the town house, she made her way to where Henry would be, reading in his rooms. Her son had learned early in life to stay small and quiet so he did not attract his father’s attention.
Iris had spent a lot of time keeping him safe and away from her late husband, but sometimes he’d gone looking for Henry.
“My heir will not cower in his room. He must learn that to follow in my footsteps. He will be respected.” These words had been yelled at her many times.
Iris had wanted to scoff at that. She’d never respected a man less than the late Lord Challoner, but if she challenged him, he would punish Henry.
Opening her son’s door, she found him in the window seat reading.
“How would you feel about going for a walk, Henry? We could go to the park and perhaps take tea somewhere?”
He lowered the book slowly and rose.
“I would like that.”
She wanted him to jump and run. Wanted him to yell and argue with her. It broke her heart just looking at him. She’d tried and failed to let him be raised as a normal child should. As she and Theo had been. Even though he’d been the heir to his father’s title and estates, the late Lord Montgomery had ensured his son still had fun in his life along with the more serious side of learning what he needed to for his future.
“Henry, you know your father is dead now.”
“I know that.” He took the hand she held out to him.
“And you understand that no one here will yell at you should you choose to speak loudly or run down the hallways. That the staff here are new and handpicked by me.”
He nodded.
“Excellent,” Iris said, unsure what else she could say to make him see that he no longer needed to be contained and quiet. “So, if you yell or speak loudly, I will not censure you for it,” she reiterated.
He nodded again, watching her intently. Time, she thought. He would adjust, given time.
“Let us leave then. I shall not need you, Robyn,” she said to his nanny.
“Very well, my lady.”
They put on their outer clothing and left the house. Henry let her hold his hand, even though his father had told him repeatedly that it was a childish thing to do.
