Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

" W hat has happened here?" Phineas boomed. His piercing eyes found Iris's, and he rushed over to her. "Are you all right? Were you harmed?"

He took her hands in his, and she smiled and shook her head. "My mother and I were out when the men broke in," she reassured him. "We are all right."

"And my servants?" Phineas asked sharply. "Were they harmed?"

"Mr. Malloy took a blow to the head, but he's fine now."

Phineas's eyes blazed again, and he released Iris's hands and turned toward the Constable. "Who were these men? What did they want? And what did they take?"

"We are still trying to determine that, Your Grace," the Constable replied quickly. His voice was oily and obsequious, which made Iris dislike him even more. "From the report your butler gave, we believe the men are hired bandits. They were too organized and too violent to simply be a team of petty thieves. Thieving gangs are usually made up of children, often vagrants, and they never strike during the day, when they could be seen."

"Get to the point," Phineas snarled, and the Constable coughed and stood straighter.

"These men clearly knew how to cause the maximum amount of damage in the shortest amount of time. They didn't try to pick any locks, they broke down doors. My best guess is that they work for one of the larger criminal organizations south of the Thames."

Phineas's jaw tightened, and Iris thought she saw a vein throbbing in his temple. She had never seen him so angry—not even at her mother this morning, and that had been deeply frightening.

"And why," Phineas said, his voice sharp like a knife, "are members of a large criminal organization breaking into my house and stealing from me? It is my understanding that men like that only work for the gang boss that employs them. I have no quarrel with any gang bosses, so tell me, why were they here?"

The Constable swallowed audibly. "These criminals have also been known to… well, sell their services… to wealthy members of the ton. It's possible that someone like that could have been responsible for this attack."

Phineas's nostrils flared. "Aren't you and your associates at the Bow Street Runners supposed to be watching these gangs? Don't you know when they make moves into Mayfair? How could you allow something like this to happen?"

"We can't keep an eye on everything they do," the Constable whined.

Phineas glared at him so ferociously that he flushed and stopped speaking.

"Not only did these men come into my home and injure my staff," Phineas growled, "but had they arrived just a few minutes earlier, they would have encountered my wife. Do you have any idea what would have happened if they had harmed one hair on her head? Do you understand what the consequences might have been?"

"Your Grace, I promise you, we will do everything in our power to uncover who did this and bring them to justice."

"What did they take?" Phineas asked, changing direction in the blink of an eye.

The Constable blanched. "We will have to take an inventory of everything here and cross-reference it against an inventory of your valuables from before. I'm sure your butler will have such a list…?"

Iris stepped forward. She knew that the words she said next would anger her husband, but she just had to hope he would be able to rein in his temper.

"The correspondence that my mother brought you this morning is gone," she said quietly. "I checked myself. As is the bill of sale that my mother witnessed."

Phineas's jaw clenched, but he didn't look surprised. It was possible that he had also guessed who had ransacked his house.

"At least you weren't hurt," he said more quietly. "We were lucky in that regard."

"I don't think it was luck," the Constable interjected, shaking his head. "According to witness statements, it seems the burglars purposefully waited until after Her Grace and Lady Carfield had left. They very much wanted the Duchess to be gone."

"And what if she had returned early?" Phineas demanded, staring incredulously at him. "They might have?—"

He broke off. He was staring at the Constable, but he wasn't really looking at him. There was a strange look on his face, as if he had just solved a puzzle. As if realization had dawned on him.

There was a moment of silence, then Phineas turned to face Iris. She was expecting him to give her a look of conspiratorial excitement, then grab her, pull her aside, and share with her what he had just realized. Instead, he was looking at her as if he had only just realized who she really was and did not at all like what he had discovered.

Iris drew back, fear suddenly seizing her. She had never seen her husband look at her like this.

Phineas turned back to the Constable, his body language stiffer and angrier now. "I think you should go."

The Constable began to splutter at once. "But, Your Grace! I still need to interview the servants! I can't possibly leave now! This is an open investigation and?—"

"I said," Phineas growled menacingly, taking a step toward him, "you should go."

His tone brooked no argument, and the Constable had no choice but to give in. Grumbling, he gathered up his things and showed himself out.

Once the door had swung shut behind the Constable, silence filled the hall. Iris held her breath. She didn't know what was coming, but she knew it was bad. Phineas wasn't himself right now, and while she didn't blame him, it frightened her.

At last, he spoke.

"You planned this," he murmured. His voice was soft, but it was filled with venom, and to her shock, he was staring directly at her. "You planned this with your father."

Iris gasped. She almost thought that he was joking, except that the look on his face was so serious. "Phineas!" she cried. "How can you say that? You know I would never plan anything with my father. I despise him as much as you d?—"

"Don't lie to me!" Phineas shouted.

Spittle flew from his mouth, and his eyes bugged out of his head. He looked absolutely deranged with anger, and Iris took an instinctive step back. Next to her, her mother reached out and touched her arm, as if to offer some support, but Iris could barely feel it. She was so shocked and hurt by her husband's reaction that she couldn't think of anything else.

"And do not presume to call me by my Christian name," Phineas continued. "That familiarity is reserved for those who have earned my trust and respect."

"Phineas, how can you say that?" Iris gasped. "After all the intimacy we have shared?!"

"It was an intimacy I gave when I thought you were loyal to me!" Phineas yelled. "But you have been deceiving me this whole time, haven't you?"

"N-no, I haven't!"

But Phineas wasn't listening to her at all. "You never stopped working for your father," he shouted, gesticulating wildly with his hands. "You have been spying on me this entire time! How else would he have discovered that we had gone to the mines?"

"What?" Iris had no idea what he was talking about.

He laughed ruefully. "At the time, I wondered if perhaps you had let slip to your sisters that we were heading to the mines. But now I see you purposefully relayed the information to your father. How else do you expect me to believe the coincidence of his appearance, just a day and a half later? And how do you expect me to believe this theft was also a coincidence? That the robbers arrived just as you were gone from the house, and only after you had finally discovered the one thing they needed most—evidence of your father's crimes against my family?"

Iris was shaking her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was beyond the pale that Phineas should think these things about her. And yet… she knew how untrusting he was. Her mother's confession earlier must have driven him out of his mind with paranoia.

Instead of shrinking back, therefore, Iris stepped forward, a pleading expression on her face. She had to make him understand. She had to reach him through all his anger and grief and distrust.

"Please, Phineas," she murmured, "you must know that I would never do these things. I haven't been working with my father, nor have I been spying on you. I don't know how my father discovered we were at the mines, but I never told him—or anyone! Even if I had told my sisters, they never would have betrayed me. As for this theft, I had nothing to do with it! Maybe it seems suspicious that I was out when it happened, but I can only put that down to the cunning of the thieves, not my guilt."

"Lies!" Phineas shouted.

"Come now, Phineas," James said, stepping forward at last. His usual warm, easy smile had been replaced by a mix of anger and worry. "Think about what you are saying! Her Grace has only ever been a loyal and loving wife to you. These coincidences are not proof that she was working with Carfield. You do her an injustice by making these accusations!"

Phineas rounded on his friend. The force of his anger was so strong that James also took a step back.

"You don't know her like I do," Phineas hissed. "You don't know how she had me wrapped around her finger. She knew exactly what to say and do to get me to open up to her, to get me to trust her. I'm sure her father told her all about me and my… weaknesses. So she could sink the knife in. But I will not be weak anymore. I will be strong now, for my mother and father, and I will never allow Carfield to win."

"Please, Phineas…" Tears had welled up in Iris's eyes, and as she took another step toward her husband, she had to fight to keep from bursting into tears.

"I know what you're doing," she pleaded. "You know we're getting closer, and it terrifies you. And after my mother's revelation this morning, you are feeling particularly distrustful. But I promise you, I am not who you think I am! I know you know I would never side with my father, after everything he has done to you. To both of us!"

Phineas didn't respond, and she took this as a sign that maybe he was softening.

She took another step forward, until she was standing right in front of him. "I love you, Phineas," she whispered. "And I would never, ever hurt you. Please, don't push me away. Just let me love you."

She reached out a hand to cup the side of his face. For a fraction of a second, he froze, and the anger seemed to seep out of him. It was as if, for a moment, he had stopped hating her. But then, as her fingers touched his face, he flinched away from her, and the cold fury returned to his eyes.

"I will be staying with James for the next few nights, until I can figure out the best step forward. James!" His friend jumped at the sound of his name, then scurried forward. "We're going to pack my things."

"Phineas," James said pleadingly, "this isn't necessary. Surely we can stay here and figure this out."

Phineas turned and stormed across the hall to the stairs. James ran after him, throwing a shocked and apologetic glance at Iris that did little to comfort her.

Iris waited in frozen shock as she heard them moving around upstairs, arguing. Then Phineas had returned, with a footman dragging his suitcase behind.

Her husband didn't even look at her as he strode across the hall, wrenched open the door, and left her.

As the door slammed shut in front of her, Iris felt her knees give way beneath her. She seemed to have lost the ability to stand, and she fell forward, her knees hitting the marble floor with a hard thud. Her mother rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her, but it didn't make any difference.

Iris opened her mouth. She thought she might cry, but instead, she let out a heart-wrenching wail. It reverberated off the walls, echoing through the house.

The sound might have sent a shiver down her spine if she hadn't been the one making it. Never before had she known such pain. It was heartbreak on another level. And she was sure, as she continued to wail on the floor, her mother rocking her gently, that her heart had been torn out of her chest, and that she would never get it back.