Because I wouldn’t kiss her.
Finn didn’t say it aloud, in part because Derrick would fall off his horse in a fit of hysterical laughter, but also because it sounded ludicrous. A kiss, for God’s sake. There had to be more to it than that, and as soon as he got to Hampshire, he intended to find out what it was. “It’s complicated.”
Derrick chuckled. “I have no doubt, but as far as proceeding with her, you’ll go on as any suitor would. She may be unusual, but sheisa lady still. Be gallant and agreeable, speak softly and sweetly to her—none of your usual detachment and bad-tempered commands, if you please—and you’ll have the business settled before you leave the house party.”
Finn raked a hand through his hair. Christ, if this thing depended on his agreeableness, there wasn’t a chance of success, especially against Wrexley, who donned his false charm as easily as he did his perfectly-tailored Weston coats. He didn’t have Wrexley’s easy smiles, or his glib sophistication. Finn’s words would sound right in his head, but somehow when he spoke them they would be all wrong, and he’d seem cold and detached, or too stiff and proper.
He always did.
“Don’t look so glum, Huntington. When we’re not taking Wrexley to account, perhaps we’ll have a chance to shoot some birds while we’re in Hampshire.”
Finn didn’t reply.
Hunting was all very well, as long as Lord Wrexley missed his shot.
Chapter Six
“I know very well you’re not asleep, Iris. You may twitch and mutter all you like, but you’re not fooling me, and you look quite ridiculous.”
Iris raised one eyelid just far enough to peek through the tiny slit hidden under her eyelashes. Lady Honora was tucked into one corner of the carriage, her brow furrowed with worry. Violet was next to her, and her sister looked as if she were about to leap across the carriage and shake Iris until her eyes closed for good.
Oh, dear. Her sister didn’t look pleased, and when Violet wasn’t pleased, she could be—
“We’ve been trapped in this coach for hours, and in that time you haven’t said more than a dozen words to either of us.” Violet stuck out her foot and prodded Iris none-too-gently with her toe. “Well, I won’t speak for Honora, but I’ve had enough of it. Youwillspeak to us, and tell us what’s made you so cross, or I vow I’ll spend the rest of the ride to Hampshire singing as loudly as I can.”
Singing?Dear God, not that. Violet was infamous in their family for her lack of musical ability. She could even make a pianoforte sound tone deaf.
Iris sighed, and opened her eyes. There was no use carrying on with the ruse. Even if she’d truly been asleep, Violet’s shouting would have woken her, and someone had to save Honora before she burst into tears.
“What nonsense, Violet. Why should I be cross?”
Iris forced the corners of her lips to curl upwards, but Violet, who wasn’t fooled in the least by the anemic smile, rolled her eyes. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I thought youwantedus all to go to Charlotte’s house party.”
“No. I didn’t object when Grandmother ordered us to go, but that’s not at all the same thing aswantingto go, is it?”
“Well, why shouldn’t you want to go, for pity’s sake? It wasn’t as if you were doing anything in London this past week but sulking and muttering darkly to yourself.”
“You haven’t been out of the house in days, Iris,” Lady Honora added. “You refuse to walk or ride in the park, or make calls, or go shopping. One would almost think you’re hiding.”
Iris opened her mouth to deny it, but then closed it again. There was no point in trying to fool them, especially Violet, who seemed to know her thoughts even before she had a chance to think them.
Had it only been a week since she’d sent Lord Huntington on his way? It felt like years since he’d sat across from her in the drawing room, his hazel eyes growing darker and darker with every word out of her mouth. By the time he took his leave they’d gone such a deep green she might almost have imagined his heart was affected, if she hadn’t known better.
That was provided hehada heart. She’d never seen any definitive proof of its existence.
That alone was reason enough to jilt him, and she didn’t regret doing it. No, of course she didn’t. It was more a matter of, well…what should she do now?She’d begun to suspect—oh, it was just a niggling doubt, mind you, not even a worry yet, and certainly not a panic—it might have been wise to plan her next stepsbeforeshe’d jilted Lord Huntington.
Not for her own sake, of course, but for everyone else’s.
Perhaps you should start by telling your grandmother what you’ve done.
Iris bit her lip, her stomach twisting into nervous knots that pulled tighter with every day she continued her deception. She’d half-expected Lord Huntington to complain of his treatment to Lady Chase. He hadn’t, not even when Iris refused to receive his calls, but her grandmother would have to know eventually, and she wasn’t going to be pleased when she discovered Iris had jilted the Marquess of Huntington.
Dash it, why couldn’t he have been some inconsequential viscount, instead? She might have been able to reconcile her grandmother tothat.
But it was done. She’d sent Lord Huntington away, and there was nothing left for it but to confess the truth. Well, most of the truth. Oh, very well, as little of the truth as possible. It would be preferable, for example, if the wordblindfolddidn’t make it into the discussion.
Iris stared down at hands, her cheeks reddening with shame. She’d been so busy congratulating herself for her high principles in refusing to wed a hypocritical marquess, she hadn’t spared a thought for how her actions might impact her sisters’ prospects, or considered how disappointed her grandmother would be.
