Oh, no. It couldn’t be. “Is it…it’s not Lord Derrick, is it?”
There was a brief silence from the other side of the door, then Violet sighed. “If you don’t mind, Iris, I’d rather not stand in the hallway and shout about Lord Derrick through a closed door. Let me in.”
Iris scrambled off the side of the bed and hastened to the door. As soon as she opened it and saw Violet’s ravaged face, her heart sank. “Oh, Violet. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize, but I should have. What kind of lady is so selfish she doesn’t notice her sister’s broken heart?”
“A lady whose heart is also broken.” Violet came in and perched on the edge of Iris’s bed, her shoulders hunched in defeat. “Love makes us all selfish, I think. If it didn’t, I’d be happy for Honora and Lord Derrick, but I’m not, Iris. I’m not.”
“Oh, my dear.” Iris sat next to Violet and opened her arms, and Violet fell into them.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised at it. I’m not the type of lady a gentleman falls in love with. I’ve always known it, and I never expected to come to London and have some grand love affair. It’s just…I suppose I thought Lord Derrick was different than other gentlemen. He’s so kind, and…ah, well. It doesn’t matter now.”
Tears pricked behind Iris’s eyes as she ran a soothing hand over her sister’s back. “Is it quite a settled thing between Honora and Lord Derrick?”
“He’s courting her, and she confided in me she believes he’ll make an offer before long.”
“She intends to accept him?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t she? He’s…well, he’s lovely, isn’t he? I wonder we didn’t foresee this would happen. I can’t think of two people who are better suited.”
Iris wanted to deny it, to reassure Violet no one could ever suit Lord Derrick as well as she could, but the truth was she’d wondered more than once whether Lord Derrick’s easy calm was a good match for Violet’s sharp, restless inquisitiveness.
Whereas Lady Honora and Lord Derrick…
Well, Violet was right. One had only to look at them to see they were as ideally suited as two people could hope to be. “Does Honora know you’re—?”
“In love with Lord Derrick? No, and you mustn’t tell her, Iris. If she knew, she’d likely try to discourage him, for my sake.” Violet attempted a laugh, but there was a trace of bitterness in it. “You see how well-matched they are? She’s every bit as lovely as he is.”
Iris sighed. Dear God, what a muddle. “Love is dreadful, isn’t it?”
Violet dragged her sleeve across her eyes, then managed a watery smile. “I’ll take care to avoid it from now on, yes. I never planned to marry anyway, as you know. Why, in another month or so I won’t even recall what I saw in Lord Derrick and will be quite reconciled to my original plan of becoming London’s most infamous bluestocking spinster.”
“Oh, dear. Grandmother won’t like that.”
“No, it’ll drive her mad, I’m afraid. Hyacinth will have to land a duke to make up for our shortcomings.”
Between Violet’s disappointment and her own, Iris’s heart was battered beyond repair, but she could see her sister was attempting to put a brave face on it, so she forced a smile. “Come, Violet. I’ve lingered in my bedchamber long enough, and I think we’d both benefit from some fresh air. Let’s go for a ride in Richmond Park.”
Violet brightened a little. “Yes, all right. I’ll change into my riding habit, and meet you downstairs.”
Before Violet could move, however, their grandmother hobbled over the threshold, and pointed her cane at Iris. “Well, miss, I’m pleased to see you’ve put aside this foolishness and risen from you bed at last.”
As far as Lady Chase’s rebukes went, it was a mild one. Their grandmother wasn’t known for forbearance, but ever since Iris had returned from Hadley House and confessed to the disaster she’d made of her courtship with Finn, the old woman had shown remarkable restraint.
Violet gave her grandmother a cautious smile. “We thought we’d take a ride in Richmond Park this afternoon.”
“No, no, that won’t do, I’m afraid. Iris has a visitor waiting for her in the drawing room.” Lady Chase swept a shrewd gaze over Iris, and her lips pinched together with displeasure at what she saw. “You look a perfect fright. Brush your hair and wash your face before you go down, Iris, and for pity’s sake, change that gown.”
With that she hobbled back out the door, leaving Iris and Violet staring at each other.
“A visitor?” Iris’s heart began to race in her chest. “Do you suppose…could it be Lord Huntington?”
Violet gave Iris a gentle push toward the washbasin. “I don’t know, but I hope so. Quickly, Iris. Wash your face, and I’ll help you with your gown and hair.”
By the time Violet had fussed and brushed and smoothed her into ladylike respectability, Iris was so breathless with nerves and anticipation her knees felt as if they would collapse beneath her. She stood outside the closed drawing room door for a moment with her palm pressed to her stomach to calm the flock of birds that had taken up residence under her ribs, then took a deep breath, grasped the knob with damp fingers, and pushed the door open.
And when she saw who it was, her heart plummeted right down into her slippers.
“Ah, Iris. How do you do? Your grandmother tells me you’re out of sorts, so I’ve come to take you for a drive in my carriage.”
