An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6) (14 page)

“I will. I promise.”

Somewhat relieved, Martin looked for Iris and found her and Whitney surrounded by laughing gentlemen, including Mr. Charles Talbot. Martin liked him no more tonight that he had in the park. The fellow stood too close to his Iris for Martin’s liking. His appreciative smile made Martin’s fists clench. He glanced at Mrs. Ward one last time. “Do excuse me.”

He hurried toward Iris.

Talbot leaned closer still. “Miss Hedley? Might I claim a dance if you have one free?”

“I believe Miss Hedley agreed to take a turn about the room with me,” Martin interrupted rudely. He caught Iris’s hand and tugged her against his side. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my dear. Come along.”

Color filled her face and she dug her heels in a short distance away. “My head aches.”

Martin scowled at her blatant lie. “The pain could not be too great or you would not have been laughing so heartily with that scoundrel.”

“But it is now.” She freed herself from his grip. “I should like to find Esme and go home.”

The refusal irritated Martin. “I had intended to dance with you again tonight.”

Iris gasped and then ducked behind him, using him as a shield.

Martin quickly scanned the crowd to see what had startled her, and his gaze snagged on a familiar figure across the room. Lord Grindlewood had arrived, smiling and waving to friends. The very man Iris had been betrothed to years ago. And he was in the company of Lady Heathcote. He bent his head to the countess as she whispered in his ear. His head shot up and Grindlewood scanned the crowd. Martin earned a scowl but then the man’s attention moved on restlessly. Was he looking for Iris?

Martin discreetly glanced behind him only to discover that Iris had vanished, abandoning him upon seeing her handsome and slightly built former betrothed.

That was not a good start to their life together.

Ten

Society gossip sheets had once described Iris an incomparable. A diamond. The best the season could have offered were she not already engaged to marry a viscount. The rest of society had called her undeserving behind her back, and there had been quiet joy in many households when she’d broken her engagement to Lord Grindlewood on account of her lost dowry. At the time she’d made her debut, she’d not understood her father’s money had been all the appeal she’d possessed. She had laughed and smiled and believed her future to be set. Once her father’s fortune was gone, her dowry used for another purpose, she had fallen far from society’s good graces. She’d assumed that to be the worst sort of pain imaginable. A fall she’d never anticipated and that she could do nothing about.

Tonight she’d rediscovered a new kind of pain.

Insane jealousy.

It was very clear to her that the woman who’d captured Lord Louth’s attention in the ballroom had a romantic history with him. By the way her eyes had devoured the earl, she was positive they’d been intimate. Much more intimate than she’d been allowed so far, and it wasn’t fair. She had given the earl every opportunity.

Iris leaned against the stone wall of Lord Windermere’s townhouse, shielding her feelings from view in the dark, and lightly thumped her head against the building behind her. She had always pitied the woman possessed of irrational hatred for women their men admired. If she had any kind of dignity, she would not have run away from Lord Louth at the first sign of competition. She was weak, spineless, and she despised those qualities in herself.

She pressed her fingers to her temple to alleviate the pain in her head as it intensified. She had made herself sick worrying if Louth would regret his decision to become her protector. Even more so than the fear someone would guess she was the robber’s spy in society. Iris had been an invited guest to every single victim’s home, and she was poor. Even she would suspect herself. Miss Quartermane was far too astute for her comfort and she feared where the girl’s speculation would lead her next. If Miss Quartermane and her friends watched Iris closely, she would undoubtedly be exposed as an accomplice.

Seeing Lord Grindlewood again was the final straw. Her stomach had twisted into painful knots at the sight of Ethan’s smiling face. He knew far too much about her real situation with her father for comfort. Her breath wouldn’t come easily, so rather than risk fainting in the ballroom and drawing attention, she’d fled for fresher air on the terrace.

Those disturbing fears had passed the moment she was no longer standing in the same room with Grindlewood, Louth, or that overdressed harpy pawing at her lover. She slapped her hand over her mouth, shocked by her mean thoughts for a woman she didn’t know the least about.

“Are you hiding from me?”

Ethan Hoganmire, Viscount Grindlewood, emerged slowly from the gloom, an angry expression growing on his face. Marrying this man had once been her heart’s desire but now she felt uncomfortable around him. They’d talked of having children together, of visiting his southern estate during the long summers, but that life would never be.

She stared into his handsome face as calmly as she could manage. “No, Ethan. I would never do that to you.”

“I know you well enough to see you are upset.” He paused within reach and searched her face. “Don’t deny it. Has someone been cruel to you again?”

Iris winced at how far off the mark he’d landed. He had known her once, but he didn’t understand she played a part in the robberies plaguing society. She was the cruel party in this affair, pretending to be a friend while secretly hurting the hosts by setting them up to be robbed later that night. “Everyone has been perfectly pleasant tonight. There’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

“But you ran away at the very moment I arrived. Did you fear I will spoil your chances by making a scene, and reminding society we were once a pair?” He glanced away briefly. “If you did, I will make this quick and leave you alone before I’m noticed. Are you otherwise well, Iris? How is your father faring?”

“We are much the same.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Lady Heathcote tells me Lord Louth has become quite attentive and hinted there was a secret understanding between you.”

“It is not like that.” Despair filled her because it truly
was
like that. She’d promised Louth to keep their relationship a secret, but it wouldn’t stay that way forever. She just hadn’t imagined having to explain her eventual fall to the man she’d almost married. Louth, for all his physical appeal, was a means to an end. A way to get free of Talbot’s demands. “He has always been a friend of mine and of my father’s.”

Ethan stepped closer. “There is still no news of our ship. I don’t understand and I am so sorry my situation hasn’t changed.”

A few years ago, before her father’s ruin, Ethan and her father had become investors in the same shipping line. The flagship was reported lost at sea although they both had doubts of the truth of that claim. They both continued to suffer for that lost cargo and still hope their ship might sail into port one day. There were other losses that had afflicted her father’s finances but that ship and its cargo was of the greatest value.

“It’s hardly your fault and you’ve no cause to worry.” She forced a smile to her lips. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“Does it?” He stepped back with a shake of his head. “Your father and I discussed the ship and its cargo long before I ever knew he would invest. Given everything else, I fear I bring only bad luck to you and everyone I befriend.”

She reached out to him. “You are not to blame for my father’s decisions. He was not a well man at the time.”

“I think I’m cursed, Iris.” Ethan nodded and drew back. “Maybe you had it wrong. If a man such as Lord Louth has the foresight to ask for your hand, you should accept. You are better off without me in your life.”

That wasn’t altogether true. If she’d married Ethan she would likely never have fallen in with Talbot’s scheme for quick riches and might never have stood on the precipice of disgrace. She might have been poor, but she would have been guiltless of any crime. Ethan could have made her happy. He would have tried, at least.

She followed him a few steps and then faltered when hope sprang to his eyes. What was she doing, chasing after a man she barely cared for? She did not love him or have a future with him. This certainly was not the way to begin her new life as Lord Louth’s mistress.

“Be clever, Iris, and say yes to Lord Louth when he asks for your hand.” Ethan backed away. “I would only hurt you.”

He vanished into the darkness so completely that she could not even hear his steps as he fled from her. And she would only hurt him, and everyone else, if she pursued him from the ball to make sure he understood what had happened to her father’s fortune had never been his fault.

“Iris?”

Iris turned slowly. Lord Louth’s towering bulk loomed over her. He stared down at her with guarded eyes, a question in them. Heedless of the impropriety, she set her hand to his chest and held on to him. Any lingering distress receded in his comforting presence. But how much had he overheard? She hoped he had not overheard her discussing her father’s health with Ethan. “I am better now.”

“You were truly unwell?” He took her arm and guided her to a stone bench. “Here, sit a moment.”

Iris felt rather foolish in the wake of his tender concern. Her reactions to seeing Louth admired by other women was something she could never admit to but she would have to accept. She supposed it was a mistress’s lot in life to feel on the outer. Perhaps if she could persuade him to set her up in the country, she would not care what he did in London because she would never see him bestow affection on another. “It is nothing but nerves and will pass quickly I am sure.”

“It is not nothing if you’re sneaking off to be with Grindlewood.” He scowled. “I won’t have it.”

She blinked at the hurt in his voice. “I did not sneak anywhere.” A blind run was a more apt description.

His eyes narrowed. “You
were
speaking to the viscount.”

“Yes. But it’s not what you suggest. We only talked, my lord. Nothing more scandalous than that, and please do remember that I don’t belong to you yet.”

“Not yet. But you will.” His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. “A gentleman must always guard a woman’s reputation and I will protect you even from yourself.”

“Goodness, anyone would think I was on the brink of being seduced here on the terrace.” She stroked his thigh and sighed. “I assure you that was not the case. Ethan was a perfect gentleman.”

His eyes narrowed so she trailed her fingers along his thigh again. A delicious wave of anticipation swept through her. Was he all muscle beneath his fine clothes? She leaned toward him and risked brushing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Could we discuss him later?”

“Yes, we most definitely will.” Louth cupped her face in his large hand and stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Are you curious about the woman I was speaking to before you ran off?”

Her pleasure in the moment vanished. “I suppose.”

Painfully curious, but he would surely never like her to be possessive or reveal her true thoughts on the woman.

“We were close years ago, soon after I came into the title,” he confessed with a shake of his head. He brushed his lips across hers softly then cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, she’s got herself in a spot of trouble, the silly fool.”

He dropped his hand and stared off into the darkness.

“I see.” The minute the woman had spoken to Louth, Iris had felt insanely disagreeable toward her and it seemed her instincts were correct. Hearing the woman described as a “silly fool” eased the tightness around her heart considerably. When the lady had touched his arm, Iris wanted to scratch out her eyes. She’d been grateful to Whitney for dragging her away but now she was even more curious about their conversation. “What sort of trouble?”

“Like your father, she lived beyond her means and seeks to avoid her responsibilities,” Louth confided.

A chill swept over her skin at the way Louth implied her father had been reckless. For the most part he’d been a very frugal man until the years immediately prior to his incarceration. The losses hadn’t been intentional. However, Iris had enough problems of her own to wish not to hear of other people’s debts. “We should return inside before anyone notices us gone so long.”

Lord Louth helped her to her feet and as she stood at his side, the urge to take his arm increased. It was a possessive thought, and she quickly ignored the wish to claim him as her own. She moved toward the ballroom unaided but her heart was heavy. Just a little longer and she could cease pretending to be one of them.

Once inside, Louth led her toward Miss Crewe, where she stood in conversation with Lady Taverham beside the dance floor. For a change, the marchioness’s husband was nowhere in sight.

“My dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.” Lady Taverham beamed and extended her hand. “Miss Crewe and Lord Louth have nothing but the highest praise for your character.”

Iris smiled but when her gaze fell on Louth’s former lover watching him from across the room with doe eyes, she did not feel herself a good character. She had detested the woman on sight, and now that she knew she’d met someone he’d taken to bed, been intimate with, she was even more anxious about the lack of contract between them. She would have to address that issue soon. “You’re very kind, my lady.”