25. Chapter 25

Chapter twenty-five

November, 1920

“Do you need to pack a gown, my lady?” Beatrice asked, shuffling through the ones hanging in Iris’s wardrobe.

Iris considered it. “I don’t think so. I’m only going to be with Sybil while she has the baby. I don’t think I’ll need anything formal.”

“You won’t be seeing Mr. Sinclair while you’re in Liverpool?”

“He’s picking me up at the station, but he knows I’m there for Sybil. I imagine we’ll stay in if we do spend time together.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Beatrice went back to packing Iris’s day clothes into her suitcase. Iris picked up a necklace from her vanity, wondering if she ought to pack it. A knock on the door frame had them both turn their heads, and Iris took in her brother’s slim form, an expression on his face she didn’t recognize. He appeared perturbed and cast a sidelong glance at her lady’s maid.

“Beatrice, could I have a moment with my sister, please?” he said.

“Yes, my lord,” she replied, and dipped her head before scurrying out of the room.

Iris rose to her full height. “Something on your mind, Hugh?”

He came into the room and closed the door behind him. Now she was especially curious. Had some other family member died? Any luck, it would be Aunt Violet, and Iris would be the lucky recipient of some inheritance.

“Mr. Oliver told me something today,” Hugh said. “Something he heard from the maids. Something I very much hope is only gossip.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the dramatics. “Well? What is it?”

He folded his arms over his chest and met her gaze. “Is there anything you want to tell me about you and Rowland Sinclair?”

“For God’s sake, Hugh, come out with it,” she said, exasperated.

“All right,” he said. “The servants informed Mr. Oliver that the last time Rowland Sinclair stayed here at Buckland Hall, you spent the night in his room. And in the weeks since I have paid back my debt, you have been staying with him in the inn when he’s in town.”

She set her jewelry back down on her vanity, but she did not look away. Hugh could not make her feel guilty for what she had with Rowland. She was happy. For the first time in her life, she was truly happy.

“All right, now you know,” she said.

Hugh flinched. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“What else do you expect me to say?” she said with a shrug. “There’s no use denying it. It’s true.”

“Iris,” he hung his head with a sigh before looking at her again. “After what happened, you may feel you have certain…obligations to him, but I assure you—”

“Let me stop you right there,” she said. “What I do with Rowland is entirely of my own free will.”

Hugh blinked and shook his head. She could see him trying to rationalize it, and she imagined wheels turning inside his mind.

“After he…did what he did?”

“As a matter of fact, he did nothing,” she said. “That first day he came to collect, he didn’t lay a hand on me. We stood in the bedroom and talked, nothing more.”

His face paled. “But—your dress was torn! You were so angry and hurt!”

“He tore the dress with my permission. And I was angry and hurt. But at you, for being willing to sacrifice me to save your skin. And I’ve since forgiven you, but at the time, you can imagine I was rather sore about the whole thing.”

Hugh let out a huff and paced in front of the door, hand to his chin, tapping it with his finger. Iris picked up her necklace again and put it in her travel case. She moved on to her perfume selection when Hugh spoke again.

“So, what, you two are lovers now?”

She faced him, holding her head high. “Yes.”

“That settles it.” He slapped his palms against his thighs. “You must be married.”

Iris’s blood ran cold. “What?”

“It’s not ideal, I know. Aunt Violet was still holding out hope you’d marry Lord Darrington.”

“Who?”

“Viscount Darrington, he was here for your birthday and the grouse shooting.”

Iris remembered after a moment, but the shock of Hugh’s earlier statement still had panic’s tight grip around her heart. “Right…whatever. About Rowland—”

“Yes, as I said, not ideal. Especially since he’s without a title and he’s…well, a racketeer, but I suppose he has the money to support you.”

“He has plenty of money, but—”

“And there’s the whole Catholic thing. Are you planning to convert? I’m not sure how that would go over in society. Though I imagine you wouldn’t be worried too much about society anymore. I don’t know of any Catholics among the aristocracy, but perhaps—”

“Stop it, stop it, stop it! ” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. When she opened them again, she held her brother’s gaze firmly. “I am not marrying Rowland.”

“But, Iris…you must,” Hugh said through a nervous chuckle. “There’s no other choice.”

“There is, and I’m choosing not to marry him. There’s no law that says we must.”

“Propriety demands it,” he shot back.

“Fuck propriety!” she shouted.

“My word! You’re already speaking like a gangster’s wife, you might as well become one!”

“I will not be a wife!” she screamed. He reeled back as if she’d swung at him. Her chest heaved with rage boiling over. “Not to a viscount, not to Rowland, not to anyone!”

“What is it you want then, Iris?” he challenged. “To live in sin with him? Do you honestly think that’s possible?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because that’s not the way the world works! Think of how it reflects on our family! You’ve already been divorced and arrested, now you want the scandal of being some criminal’s whore?”

“I lived my whole life for this family, and look where it got me! Married to a man who belittled and beat me! I’d say I’m within my rights to do whatever the hell I want!”

“That’s what this is about, is it? You want to get back at me and Father for your first marriage? ”

He loomed over her now, his face within inches of hers. She glowered fiercely at him, undeterred by his sudden anger or his proximity.

“My days of doing things for the family are over, Hugh,” she said coolly. “This is about doing exactly what I want for no one other than myself.”

“And you will drag us all down with you,” he said. “Your other indulgences, I can accept, but this is selfish, Iris. I won’t stand for it.”

“What are you going to do? Disown me?”

“I could, you know,” he warned. “I could banish you from this house, strip you of your title and any hope of dowry.”

“Do it, then,” she spat. “I’ll take my freedom over another forced march down the aisle. As long as Sybil and Rowland are in my life, I won’t be without a place to stay.”

His eyes widened, and he stepped back. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do it and find out how serious I am.”

A pregnant beat of silence followed. She wasn’t backing down. She would stand there in the quiet until the end of the world if she had to.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m angry with you, Iris, but you are still my sister and this is your home. I only ask that you reconsider and weigh the effect your actions have on others.”

She barked out a humorless laugh. “You think you’re so magnanimous, don’t you? That your permission to reconsider makes you a kind and generous brother? My mind has been made up since the moment I signed the papers that freed me from Lewis. I will never marry again.”

“And what if there’s a child?” Hugh said sharply. “Would you condemn them to the life of a bastard?”

“I got rid of all Lewis’s children, I’ll do the same for any more that come along,” she said. “I want a life that is my own. No man’s, no child’s. Mine.”

She turned on her heel and gathered up the rest of her things for her trip, stuffing them into her open suitcase. Hugh’s eyes followed her every step.

“It makes me sad for you,” he finally said, voice soft. “That you would resign yourself to such a loveless existence.”

“Trust me, Hugh.” She slammed the suitcase lid and shut and clicked the latch before whirling back to face him. “There is more love waiting for me in Liverpool than there ever was in this house.”

With that, she snatched up her suitcase and stormed out of the room, wondering if it was for the last time.