“Who hurt you?” The words were a low growl. “Tell me.”
“No one. I-I scratched myself.” She lifted a hand to cover it. Theo took it and peeled down her glove. Renton had left a bruise.
“Tell me who did this to you, Iris.”
“No one did anything to me,” she said. “Have you quite recovered from the tug-of-war, my lord?”
“This conversation is not over.”
“Yes, it is, and people are staring at you.”
His eyes snapped with anger, but the silly Lord Plunge smile slid back onto his face.
“I doubt I will ever recover,” he whimpered, blotting his dry forehead with a handkerchief that wafted the scent of lavender her way. “I will need at least a week in bed!” he exclaimed.
She studied him. “Who are you?”
“Why, I’m Lord Plunge,” he said with a silly smile.
“It must be exhausting trying to keep up that facade,” Iris said.
His dark eyes studied her intently. “Why do you think it’s a facade?”
“I have seen the other side of you a few times now. How is it I wonder, that no one else has?”
She suspected that look on his face was longing, but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure.
“You have not been in London long enough to see anything,” he scoffed in what she termed his Theo voice. It was low enough so only she could hear.
“I like to stand back and watch,” Iris said.
His eyes went left and right, checking to make sure no one was watching them.
“The girl I knew never stood back and watched.” This voice was all Theo now.
“I was ten. You can’t know who I was then or now.”
“Come now, there is really no need for all this!” These words came from Lord Molden, who was now facing the Duchess of Raven, Dimity, and one other she had not met.
“Those three women are remarkably beautiful,” Iris said, stepping back from the disturbing man.
“No more so than you, but yes, they are. I don’t believe you have met Lady Levermarch. All three are strong-willed leaders in society.”
Iris didn’t answer, just focused on the argument between the women and Lord Molden. The men in their lives, she noted, were standing back, clearly happy to watch the proceedings. She knew they would step in if required.
“Women should not behave in such an undignified manner!” Lord Molden roared. His face was now puce.
“This could get ugly,” Theo whispered.
“Molden, you are an antiquated old fool,” the Duchess of Raven said.
“True!” the Duchess of Yardly agreed.
“Hold this. I fear things are about to escalate.” Theo handed her his glass of champagne. “Someone needs to save Molden, as the husbands of the women haranguing him seem more than happy to stand by and watch them eviscerate him.”
Iris watched Theo walk a few feet away from her. He then pulled a book out of his inside pocket.
“I do believe you promised me a literary saloon, Duchess!” He waved the book above his head. “So it is time to give you my birthday gift.”
