Grabbing her blanket, she wrapped it around her body.
“I am not your late husband,” Theo said in that cold, emotionless voice she hated. Gone was her lover and the man who had treated her with such tenderness. “You will not leave this house alone again. I will have your word on that, Iris. In fact, I think you should stay with your aunt and uncle until this is done with. I will have two men stationed outside their house.”
“For how long? Whoever lured me to the White Swan wants those papers, or Henry and I will pay the price. So we give them to them.”
“And if they decide it is simply easier to remove you, what then? Henry will be alone!” he snapped.
“I will protect my son.” Iris felt her anger rise.
“How? Can you shoot a gun and use a knife?”
“I punched that man tonight!”
“A lucky punch when he wasn’t expecting it,” Theo scoffed.
“They will not force me from this home—”
“Your home,” he said.
“It was never mine.”
“Well make it yours.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
His teeth snapped together.
“There is danger for you and Henry. Perhaps you should think of him when you decide to do something reckless like leave the house alone. He has lost one parent already.”
The words were like a slap in the face.
“Go now,” she said.
He stared at her for long, heated minutes but said nothing more. Theo then turned and left the room, taking all the warmth with him.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
It was early afternoon when Monty knocked on the front door of the large two-story home, which was situated an hour from London. He’d thought long and hard about doing this, but he had to know. Was the symbol he’d found in his father’s hand that day found on either Peters or Lionel?
Peters’s family had left London, so it would take longer to track them down, but Lionel was survived by his wife who lived at this address, or so he’d been told.
“Good day.” The butler opened the door.
“Good day. My name is Lord Montgomery. I wish to speak with Lady Lionel if possible?”
“I will see if she is at home to callers.” He was left to cool his heels on the doorstep.
It was six days after he’d made love to Iris. Six long days of wondering if she was safe and thinking of him as constantly as he thought of her. The minute he’d walked away from her, the cold had returned and slid its unwanted fingers into his soul.Damn her for making him feel.
The door opened again. “If you will come this way, Lady Lionel will see you,” the butler said.
The hallway was narrow, and they passed under a curved staircase. The room they entered had large doors opening into the gardens, and it was through those they walked.
“Lady Lionel is inside the glasshouse. If you will follow the path, my lord, I will bring tea,” the butler said, waving him to the right.
Monty walked down a path past neat rows of flower beds. The entire place was weeded and manicured. Someone took a great deal of time caring for this garden. He found the glasshouse at the end of the path and was hit from all directions with scents as he entered. Earth, greenery, and warmth.
“Over here,” a voice called.
