Chapter 4

Chapter Four

" I ris, are you still awake?"

The whisper came from the door and was accompanied by a small knock. Iris looked up from her bed, where just moments before she had been staring up into the canopy, her mind whirring.

"Rose, is that you?" she called softly. "Come in!"

The door creaked open, and Rosalie slipped into the room, followed closely by Violet.

Iris sat up and reached for the flint box by her bed. By the time her sisters had tiptoed across the room, she had lit the candle on her nightstand, illuminating their anxious faces.

"Did we wake you?" Violet asked.

"No, I can't sleep."

"Us either," Rosalie said, hopping up on the bed. "I can't believe you're going to get married tomorrow! You're going to be a duchess! And married to the most handsome duke in England…"

Iris wrinkled her nose. "I've hardly noticed what he looks like," she mumbled, although this wasn't entirely true. One could hardly fail to notice how handsome the Duke of Eavestone was. But that wasn't the point. "I don't even know what he's like as a person. Other than his reputation, of course…"

Violet seemed to sense her unease because she sat on the edge of the bed and laid a hand over Iris's. "Are you nervous?" she asked.

Iris swallowed. She didn't like to admit weakness in front of her sisters—she had to be the strong one for them—but in the cover of night, she found it a little easier to open up.

"A little," she admitted. "I know the Duke and I are on the same side now, but there is still so much I don't know about him. What if he is as cruel as people say?"

"Rumors aren't always correct," Rosalie said at once.

Violet rolled her eyes, and Iris had to stifle a smile. Considering that Rosalie had been so quick to believe the rumor about Iris, it was good to see she was becoming more discerning.

"But what if these ones are?" Iris asked. "For all we know, I could be entering into a marriage with someone as dreadful as Father. What if… what if I end up like Mama? So afraid of my own husband that I leave him and abandon my children like she abandoned us?"

Neither sister had anything to say to this. Even Rosalie looked subdued, and she put her own hand over Violet's so that the three of them were clasping hands.

"It won't be like that," Violet said at last.

"How do you know?" Iris whispered, her voice choked.

Violet smiled—a small smile, but one full of wisdom. "You'd never abandon your children. Like you never abandoned us."

Iris looked deep into her sister's eyes. They were so full of trust that Iris felt a renewed sense of purpose. She flipped her hand over and squeezed her sisters' hands.

"You're right," she said. "I never would. And even though I'll be leaving tomorrow to live with the Duke, I don't want either of you to think you're being abandoned. The Duke has promised to protect both of you. It was one of the conditions of our marriage. So, I need you to tell me if Father does anything to harm you, or if he makes threats of marrying you off. If he does, tell me at once, and the Duke and I will intervene. Do you promise?"

Both her sisters nodded, and Iris relaxed a little. She felt less nervous, knowing that at least her sisters would be protected by the Duke of Eavestone.

"And I want you both to visit me as often as you can," she continued. "My new home will be your home."

"It won't be the same without you," Rosalie said, flinging her arms around Iris. "I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too," Iris choked out, swallowing her tears. She had to be strong now. "But if everything goes according to plan, then we will be reunited soon enough."

And if the Duke is as trustworthy as he says he is.

"Phineas Thorne—a bridegroom. Now those are words I never thought I'd say!"

James was grinning from ear to ear as he surveyed Phineas, who was standing in front of the mirror in his bedchamber, fidgeting with the silk cravat at his throat.

Phineas glowered at his friend through the mirror. He did not like the smug look on James's face one bit.

"Stop grinning like a fool and get over here and help me with this," he snapped, gesturing toward the cravat. "My valet tied it too tight. I think he's trying to do me in on my wedding day."

James rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told. Coming over to Phineas, he examined the cravat with narrowed eyes.

"Having trouble breathing?" he asked, more soberly.

"I feel… constricted," Phineas admitted.

James couldn't keep from smirking. "That's the marriage vows, Eavestone, not the cravat."

Phineas scowled more deeply and turned back to the mirror. He looked the part of the bridegroom, it was true. He was in a black velvet coat, an elaborately embroidered royal blue waistcoat, a starched white shirt, and black breeches. To top it all off, he was wearing a top hat. He wasn't used to being this formally dressed so early in the morning, and he felt slightly uncomfortable.

But maybe it was as James had said: it wasn't the clothes so much as his nerves. After all, he was going to be married in a few short minutes.

The guests had already arrived, the chapel was full, and now all it needed was Iris and himself. It had all happened so quickly that Phineas could barely get his mind around it, and truthfully, his stomach was in knots.

Not that he would admit that to James.

"Of all the men," his old friend admitted, shaking his head as he began to re-tie his cravat, "you were the one I was sure would never marry. I even had a bet on it going at White's. You owe me ten pounds."

"I owe you nothing," Phineas said, more sternly than he meant to. "I didn't ask you to bet on the likelihood of my marrying."

James made a tutting sound. "So on edge that you can't take a joke, I see. What, are you nervous?"

"Of course not," Phineas huffed, too quickly.

For a moment, James looked as if he was about to make a ribald joke, probably something akin to, If you need advice on the wedding night… but then he caught sight of Phineas's expression and seemed to change tact.

"I'm sure married life won't be as unpleasant as one hears," he offered instead. "Perhaps you'll even grow to like your wife."

Phineas nodded but didn't quite meet his friend's eyes.

James smirked again. "Oh, is that the problem? You like her too much already?"

"What do you mean?" Phineas asked sharply. His heart had begun to pound, although he wasn't sure why. "I barely know the lady."

"Still… there is certainly something intriguing about a woman who barges into your home and demands you marry her."

"I wouldn't call it intriguing," Phineas grunted. "More impertinent."

James stepped back and admired his handiwork. "How's that? I made it a bit looser."

Phineas cleared his throat, then felt around the edge of the cravat. Indeed, he did find it a little easier to breathe.

"Thank you," he said curtly. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't make any more comments about my bride being intriguing. Our marriage is purely a business partnership. There will be no romance and no affection. Is that understood?"

"Certainly," James uttered, but Phineas was sure that his friend was suppressing a smile. "But if you ask me, the lady doth protest too much… and in this case, the lady is you."

Phineas didn't dignify this with a response. He turned back to the mirror and looked himself over critically once more. He looked good, he thought. Distinguished. A true Duke of Eavestone.

Mother and Father would be proud of me if they were still alive.

"I'm sure she'll be impressed," James added.

When Phineas looked at him sharply, trying to ascertain if his friend was teasing him, James gestured toward the door.

"Shall we, Eavestone? I think it's time to get you married."

"Stop tripping," Lord Carfield muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not doing it on purpose," Iris hissed.

She wouldn't usually speak to her father so impertinently, but really, what was she supposed to do? She could barely see through the veil in front of her eyes.

Her father gripped her arm tighter and took another step forward.

They were about halfway down the aisle. Apart from not being able to see, Iris's heart was in her throat. She could just make out the Duke of Eavestone waiting for her at the altar, and the sight made her dizzy. She couldn't make out the expression on his face, and she wondered if it was as apprehensive as her own. But then, why would it be? The Duke was getting what he wanted, and he had less to fear of marriage than she did.

As Iris and her father reached the end of the aisle, her father made to hug her. As he did, he lowered his head to her ear and muttered, "Don't forget, your duty is to your family first—to me. Don't disappoint me."

Iris didn't have time to reply before he had released her and the Duke had linked his arm with hers. The Duke's touch was warm, even through the sleeves of her dress, but she avoided his eyes. After her father's words, she felt ill. The Duke released her arm, and the two of them faced the rector as he began to recite the traditional wedding sermon.

"Dearly beloved," he intoned, "we are gathered here, in the sight of God and these witnesses…"

But Iris wasn't listening. She couldn't focus on the rector's words. Her mind was still on her father's threat. Fear filled her, and her legs began to shake. More than ever, she felt the mounting pressure to help the Duke take her father down before he could hurt her or her sisters any more.

Iris felt as if her legs were going to give out, and she swayed slightly to the side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Duke glance at her. She tried to stand still and smooth her expression, to hide the fear that she knew was evident in every line on her face. The veil hid her face, but still, the Duke was close enough that he might be able to glimpse her expression, to feel her shaking with suppressed trepidation…

Then, to her surprise, she felt him take her hand. He wasn't looking at her, but he was holding her hand firmly. After several moments, he squeezed it.

As reassurance radiated through her, Iris felt hot tears prick her eyes. She refused to let them fall, but she was more touched than she could have said. It was possible, of course, that her bridegroom had misunderstood her fear, that he'd assumed she was afraid of getting married—which, admittedly, she was—and not of her father. But it only made his action even kinder. Undoubtedly, he was scared as well, uncertain of life with a woman he barely knew, yet here he was, comforting her.

Confidence surged through her, and she stood up a little straighter. Her legs stopped shaking. She was able to take several deep, calming breaths. And for the rest of the ceremony, she could focus on what the rector was saying.

At last, he declared them man and wife, and the chapel burst into applause. The Duke lifted her veil, and she gazed up into his eyes, which were kinder than the last time they'd seen each other. She smiled, and while he didn't smile back, there was a certain softness in his expression that warmed her. He turned her around, and together they beamed at the small crowd of people. Her sisters looked delighted—Violet even appeared to be misty-eyed. Her father, on the other hand, looked surly and contemplative, and he clapped only once or twice.

Iris surprised herself by realizing that she didn't care. For the first time since she had arrived on the Duke's doorstep, demanding that he marry her, she didn't feel doomed. She felt only relief.

Because for the first time in her life, she was free of her father's clutches, and she was going to make sure she never fell back into them.

The wedding breakfast was a quiet affair. Throughout it, Phineas spoke not a word to his wife. He wanted to say something to her, to reassure her that their life together could be pleasant, to make her feel at ease in her new home, but he found he couldn't think of anything to say.

Throughout the meal, Iris kept trying to catch his eyes, even smiling at him. He tried to smile back, but the whole time he was aware of Lord Carfield's eyes on them. It seemed too risky to show any closeness between him and Iris—that, and the idea of smiling at his wife was more frightening than he had imagined it would be.

Iris's sisters sat close to them, and Phineas watched them covertly out of the corner of his eye. The youngest one—Rosalie, he thought her name was—talked animatedly to James between each of the courses. She was a little louder than a young lady ought to be, but Phineas supposed she was still young. The middle sister, Violet, was quieter, although when she did speak, she seemed intelligent and kind.

So these are the girls I will be protecting . My new sisters.

Just as the meal was winding to a close, and Phineas thought he might at last be able to escape, Lord Carfield rose to his feet, tapping the side of his champagne flute with a knife.

"If I may," the Viscount called, and a hush fell over the gathered wedding guests. "As the father of the bride, I would like to say a few words."

His tone was obsequious, but Phineas still felt his wife stiffen beside him.

"To say I'm proud of Iris would be an understatement," Lord Carfield began. "I didn't always have high hopes she'd marry, but here she is, not only married but snagging a duke! My own daughter now outranks me."

Scattered laughter rang out at this.

"Iris has always been a loyal daughter, and I know that she will make an excellent wife and duchess. Her loyalty to her family is unparalleled. Just look at how she has taken care of her sisters all these years…"

The Viscount's cold eyes glanced over his daughters, and Iris's expression darkened.

"While relinquishing such a daughter is always difficult, I know there is no better man to watch out for her than the Duke of Eavestone."

Now he looked at Phineas, whose expression did not shift, even as he braced himself.

"The Duke and I are old friends," Lord Carfield continued, a sneer now lining his lips, "and I know there is nothing he holds in higher regard than his family's honor."

Now it was Phineas's turn to stiffen. He managed to affect a neutral expression thanks to years of practice, but under the table, his hands balled into fists.

"I am thus comforted in knowing that my daughter is now under his protection. I have no doubt that he will treat her with the utmost respect. So please, join me in raising a glass to my new son-in-law. To the Duke of Eavestone! And his new bride, the Duchess of Eavestone!"

Phineas knew what Lord Carfield was trying to do. In one speech, he was reminding Iris of his threats toward her sisters, while at the same time warning Phineas that if he tried to ruin him, he'd also be ruining himself.

As Phineas raised his glass, the collective murmur of "To the Duke and Duchess of Eavestone" filling his ears, Iris's fingers found his. She placed her hand over his fist and squeezed gently. This time, she was the one comforting him.

It was a small gesture, but it was enough to fill him with fear. Because he realized that Lord Carfield was right about one thing: Phineas wouldn't do anything to dishonor or harm his new bride. He could only hope that she hadn't fooled him, that she really was on his side.