27. Chapter 27

Chapter twenty-seven

Iris stared at her steaming cup of tea, but the heat of it was no match for the rage still simmering inside her. The nerve of Rowland, to believe he could change her mind on marriage if he only waited it out. Of course, the moment she arrived, she spilled everything to Sybil and Charles, who appeared sympathetic, but judging by the look they exchanged, part of that sympathy extended to Rowland. Iris pursed her lips.

“It’s clear now he’s not been listening,” she said, looking desperately at Sybil. “It’s as if I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, and he hears the noise, but not what I’m saying.”

“In fairness, part of that is that what you’re after is rather unheard of,” Charles said. “Honestly, I’m struggling to wrap my head around it.”

“Of course you are. You’re blissfully happy,” Iris replied, sounding more biting than she meant to. Softening, she continued. “My experience with marriage was rather different, as you both were witness to.”

Suddenly, she’d never felt more alone. Until Sybil’s hand found hers across the table.

“I think buying the ring without talking to you about marriage was foolish of him,” she said gently. “Given your history, he needs to be more considerate. But Iris, I want you to ask yourself, do you think he bought it with the intention of hurting you?”

“No,” Iris answered automatically, surprising herself. “He wouldn’t. But…now it feels like he was just waiting for me to give in. As if he doesn’t believe me when I say never .”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t quite believe you either,” Sybil admitted. “I might have encouraged him to be patient, thinking you’d come around for the right man.”

“Sybil!”

“I know, I’m sorry. If you do mean it when you say never, I believe you now. And maybe Rowland will too.”

Iris heaved a sigh and shook her head. “No. I think…it’s over now.”

“I think you should talk to him first,” Sybil said. “If your mind is made up, then I won’t argue, but I only say this because I’m your friend. I can tell you’re hurting. And if you give him a chance to understand, he might surprise you. And you could be really happy.”

“Well…I’ll think about it,” Iris conceded. She gave Sybil’s hand a squeeze. Sybil winced, and Iris stiffened. “Too hard?”

“No,” Sybil said, her free hand moving over her belly. “It’s the baby, sorry. I’ve been having contractions for a couple of hours now.”

“How far apart are they?”

“Between five and ten minutes, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Where are the other children?” Iris asked, suddenly realizing how quiet the house was.

“Their Uncle Stuart came and got them two days ago,” Sybil explained. “They’ll have a little holiday with their cousins at the farm while we get the new baby settled in.” Her eyes landed on her husband, who stood by the kitchen window, peering out. “Charles, what are you doing over there? ”

“There are some men walking around outside,” he told her. “I’ve been seeing them for a few weeks now, but I can’t figure out what they’re doing here.”

Iris got to her feet and joined him at the window. She recognized the men right away in their black coats and flat caps.

“It’s the Devils,” she said, and Charles shot her an alarmed look. “Rowland’s men. He’s been having issues with a new group in town, so he’s probably got men here to keep you safe.”

“Why would we be in danger?” Charles wondered.

“Because Rowland has been here. If Bishop Goddard believes you’re important to Rowland, he may use you against him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Not to worry, you’re safe as long as they’re here.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Believe me, that’s the one thing I’m sure of.”

***

Iris woke to someone shaking her shoulders. Blinking open bleary eyes, Charles came into focus above her, his mouth turned up into an excited smile, accentuated with his signature dimples.

“Iris,” he said gently. “It’s begun. Sybil’s water broke while she was sleeping. I’m going to fetch the doctor. Can you come sit with her?”

“Of course,” Iris said, and pushed herself to sit up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and smiled at him. “Congratulations, by the way.”

His grin widened. “Thank you.”

He helped her out of bed and into a dressing gown. It hadn’t occurred to her to be embarrassed about wearing nightclothes around Charles since he’d seen her in them when he helped her into a lifeboat, even though he was fully dressed. He was as close a friend as Sybil was now, and in dire moments, those things never mattered.

She followed him back to their bedroom, where Sybil was upright, her head resting against the bed frame, her long chocolate braid hanging over one shoulder. She ran her hands over her belly and cooed softly to herself, the same as she had in her last two births. After a moment, she opened her eyes.

“Iris,” she said with a weary smile.

“I’m here, darling,” Iris replied, pulling up an armchair and posting up beside the bed.

Charles leaned over and pressed his lips to Sybil’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Giggles.”

Iris’s heart warmed at the nickname. Charles had given it to Sybil when they were children, and his father was teaching them to play poker. Sybil’s tell when she had a good hand was a giggle, and thus, the nickname was born. It astonished Iris that the love between them still existed decades later, when life came at them. Her mind went to Rowland, and she shook her head to clear it.

“Don’t be too long, it goes much faster after the first,” Sybil warned.

“You won’t even notice I’m gone,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care of her, Iris.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Percy,” Iris replied with a mock salute.

Laughing, he disappeared down the hall. Iris took Sybil’s hand.

“Do you remember when Effie was born, and we played cards on your belly?” she asked.

Sybil giggled. “She took ages, the stubborn girl.”

“Whereas John might have gone flying across the room, he was so quick.”

Sybil laughed heartily at that. “I dunno if I’d call it that fast.”

“You only pushed three times!” Iris argued.

Sybil’s smile faded, and she squeezed Iris’s hand as another contraction took hold. Iris glanced at the clock to time it, noting it lasted about thirty seconds. When Sybil relaxed again, Iris patted her hand.

“Well done, darling.”

Sybil swallowed and nodded. “Iris, can I ask something of you?”

“Of course.” Iris scooted closer. “Anything.”

“I think this baby is a girl,” Sybil said, glancing sidelong at Iris. “If it is, I’d like to give her your name.”

Iris balked at her. “I—what?”

“You’re the closest thing I have to a sister. I want to all pay tribute to all we’ve been through by naming my daughter after you. Is that all right?”

Iris blinked back hot tears and swallowed through the lump in her throat. “It’s more than all right. I’m honored, Sybil.”

“Good,” Sybil said with a smile.

More tears threatened the edges of Iris’s eyes, so she took a deep inhale to keep them at bay. She recalled with vivid clarity the night Sybil had become her lady’s maid. She was freshly married to Lewis. After a horrific and painful wedding night, she looked at her new lady’s maid, who had a trusting and kind face, and begged her to help find a way to not get pregnant. With hardly any hesitation, Sybil agreed, and for years, was the only person in the world Iris truly trusted.

She had been there in Iris’s most desperate hours. And since then, Iris had been trying to return the favor and be as true a friend as Sybil was to her. She must have been doing something right for Sybil to feel she deserved a child named after her. A privilege which had previously been reserved for the couple’s deceased parents and shipmates.

Charles returned with the doctor, who examined Sybil and quickly determined she would need to be pushing within the hour. With Charles and Iris on either side of her, Sybil delivered a healthy baby girl, whose first wail of life made Iris well up again.

Baby Iris was placed on Sybil’s chest, and Charles and Sybil were parents once more. Iris followed the doctor out of the room to give the family a moment alone together.

“I’m going to step out for some fresh air,” Iris told the doctor. “Will you let them know I’ll only be a moment?”

“I will,” he said with a nod.

Iris made her way downstairs and crept out the front door. The autumn night had cooled down with a breeze that ruffled her blonde curls. She wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her and drew in a deep breath. If Rowland was truly out of her life, at least she had her friends. The dearest friends anyone could hope for.

And yet, as she stood there, she wished Rowland were near. Even if it was just so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

“Lady Iris?”

She turned her head, though she didn’t recognize the voice. A young man approached in a tweed suit. A shock of blond hair poked out beneath his hat, but his face was mostly hidden in shadow. “Yes?”

“Don’t make a sound,” he said, and she recognized his accent as Irish.

She didn’t have time to question him before he brandished a handgun in her face. She gasped and drew back, swallowing the scream that had formed in the back of her throat. If she screamed, Charles might come outside, and she didn’t want to put him at risk. Her eyes darted down the other side of the sidewalk, but another man, dressed similarly, was coming from that direction, also with a gun raised.

“Come with us, and no one gets hurt,” the first man said.

“And if I refuse?” she countered.

“Your friends inside meet the same fate as the ones across the street.”

She chanced a glance and saw two lumps in the dark, lying eerily still. Squinting, she could barely make out the silhouette of an open hand. Her mouth went dry.

The men threatening her didn’t wait for her to answer. The second one took a rough hold of her arm and the first stuffed a cloth into her mouth. She struggled wildly against her captors, but their grip was as strong as iron. A chill of fear swept through her belly as the second man pulled out a knife and held it up to her face.

He grabbed a lock of her hair and cut it off. The first man took it, shoved the hair into an envelope, and jogged across the street to drop what was no doubt a ransom note onto the bodies of the Devils they’d killed. When he returned, he had another cloth that he raised over Iris’s eyes.

Her heart rate kicked up, and she turned her head away, but it was no use against two of them. Within seconds, the vision of the street disappeared, and they had her wrists tied together behind her back. She yanked back against them every step they took away from the house until finally they kicked her legs out from under her and forced her into the back seat of a car.

Cold sweat broke out over her skin as they drove away, and Iris realized she was completely and utterly helpless.