Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

" I f I didn't know your husband was a ruthless tyrant, I'd almost envy you," Rosalie said as she gazed around in rapture at the opulent entrance hall of Eavestone House. "Your house is beautiful! And the Duke's palace is supposed to be even more magnificent."

"Rose, don't be insensitive," Violet chided, following her sister through the front door. "Iris sacrificed a great deal to become the Duchess of Eavestone—and she did it for us."

"It's all right," Iris reassured them, lowering her voice as she leaned in toward Violet. "In truth, I do love the house… and it does help ease the blow of my less-than-ideal marriage."

Violet giggled and linked her arm with her sister's. "I've missed you, Iris," she admitted. "It hasn't been the same without you at home."

"I've missed you as well. It makes me ill at ease to think of you there without me."

"Don't worry about us," Violet reassured her. "We can take care of ourselves."

Iris looked at Rosalie, who was currently sweeping around the hall to look at the lavish decor, which included a cloisonné vase from the Far East, a tapestry from India, and a collection of Ottoman swords encased behind glass.

"It's good to see Rosalie so happy," Iris murmured. "She has too much energy and enthusiasm to be locked up in the house all the time. I think it will be good for her to come out next year."

Violet bit her lip. "Do you really think it wise for her to come out already? She's still so young…"

"She's only a year younger than you," Iris pointed out.

"Yes, but she's still so wild and impulsive…"

"She needs freedom," Iris insisted.

She knew her youngest sister very well. In some ways, she envied her. Their mother's departure had left Iris in charge of her sisters, and the early burden of responsibility had made her serious and cautious. Rosalie, on the other hand, had a wild spirit. She often had to repress it around their father, but when it was free to come out, it was infectious.

"Once she gets away from Father, she'll settle into herself, find some calmness," Iris continued. "Right now, she's bursting with untapped energy because Father keeps her cooped up all the time."

"He's afraid she's going to catch someone's eye," Violet scoffed. "His worst fear would be for us to marry someone not of his choosing—for him to lose all control over us."

"Well, he's lost control over me," Iris said, glaring at no one in particular. "He can't hurt me anymore, now that I'm under my husband's protection."

Violet didn't respond to this right away, but her expression was thoughtful as Iris led her into the parlor and rang for tea. Rosalie was still full of energy, and she went to the pianoforte, which was much nicer than the one at their home, and began to play a jig.

The tea came in, and Iris had just poured cups for herself and Violet when her sister spoke.

"So you really think you can trust him?" Violet asked, her voice low enough that Rosalie couldn't hear. "When we spoke before the wedding, you weren't certain…"

Iris stirred sugar into her tea and considered this. "I don't know for certain yet," she admitted. "But I am starting to feel that Society has misjudged him."

"Oh? In what way?"

"The rumors that he is ruthless and dangerous… Yes, I think he has a thirst for vengeance that can drive him to extremes. But I also think that he has suffered greatly at the hands of men who were once more powerful than him and that his anger is justified."

Violet frowned. "Who is more powerful than a duke?"

For a moment, Iris toyed with the idea of telling Violet about the Duke's past—his parents' tragic death when he was fifteen, and how, in his grief, their father had taken advantage of him. But she was afraid of Violet letting something slip to their father, and it wouldn't be good for him to know that Iris knew the truth. More importantly, she was sure that the Duke would not want her to share his private confession with anyone else.

It had felt intimate when he'd told her what had happened to him. And apart from wanting to guard his secrets, she also felt a strange possessiveness of his confidence. He had shared the truth with her and her alone, and she wanted to keep it like that.

So, instead, she said vaguely, "There are many ways to be powerful."

Violet looked like she wanted to ask more, but at that moment, a knock sounded at the door and the butler entered. He was holding a silver tray with a letter on it, which he offered to Iris.

Thanking him, Iris took the letter and unfolded it. Her blood went cold when she saw it was from her father.

Iris, I require the return of my middle daughter to our home at once. Her betrothed, Lord Redfield, has requested her presence in order to ascertain her suitability for marriage. He will not sign the contract of betrothal until he sees for himself that she will make an adequate wife.

If this letter comes as a shock to you, then I will point you toward the deviousness of your recent missive. I would also advise you not to try and trick me again with half-researched information clearly fed to you by your husband. I am intimately familiar with William Barstow's client list, and I can assure you, the Duke of Eavestone is not among them.

If you want your youngest sister to escape your middle sister's fate, then I would suggest you try harder to uphold your duty to me.

Yours,

C.

Violet felt as if she had been frozen in place. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. The letter fell from her hands and onto the floor.

"Iris? Are you well?" Violet asked, anxiously grabbing her sister's hand. "What is it? Who is the letter from?"

"He's given your hand," Iris whispered. Her lips felt numb. "He's promised you to Lord Redfield."

"What?" Violet's eyes widened. She snatched the letter from the floor and scanned it furiously. As she did, her mouth fell open. "But… You said that you had a deal with Father—that he wouldn't marry us off if you married the Duke of Eavestone!"

"We did," Iris said hollowly.

Of course, she hadn't told her sisters all the details of the deal, and now guilt flooded her. She had tried to trick her father, and he had seen right through her. Now, he was going to punish Violet for her mistakes.

"He can't do this," Iris spat. "And to Lord Redfield! He's the most vile, loathsome man in the ton. He has no respect for women, no decorum! It would be an insult to marry you off to that man."

She was almost shouting now, and the music came to a halt as Rosalie stopped playing and turned in their direction.

"What's happened?" she asked uncertainly.

But Iris didn't answer. She had leaped to her feet and was calling for the butler. When he came hurrying back into the parlor, she was already donning her gloves and preparing to head out.

"Where is my husband, Malloy?" she demanded. "I need to speak with him at once."

"Your wife is right," the solicitor said, giving Phineas a small smile as he looked up from the document in his hand. "There may be grounds to fight this contract."

Phineas's heart leaped in his chest, but he kept his expression carefully guarded. He was visiting his new solicitor, Mr. Edwin Hargrove, at his offices in Piccadilly. Mr. Hargrove had been highly recommended to him by several men at his club who thought very lowly of Lord Carfield. Phineas was fairly certain, therefore, that Mr. Hargrove was not in Lord Carfield's pocket, but after the revelation that Bertram had been double-crossing him, he felt more than a little paranoid.

Which was inconvenient, because that paranoia was also screaming at him that he should distrust his wife. But it was hard to distrust her, or to think any negative thoughts about her, when she had turned out to be so clever and helpful. Even the solicitor looked impressed as he set down the paper.

"She's smart, your wife," Mr. Hargrove remarked. "She noticed that this contract was never notarized, yes?"

"Yes," Phineas replied, feeling like an idiot even as he said it. This was the kind of detail he should have caught himself.

"And then there is the matter of the witness." Mr. Hargrove tapped the letter thoughtfully. "The Duchess of Eavestone says that her mother may be induced to tell the truth about the forgery?"

"My wife said it may be possible…" Phineas hesitated.

This was the part of Iris's plan that he didn't like. It didn't sit well with him to put his faith in a woman who had already lied in order to ruin him. What would stop her from lying again?

"Well, even if she won't change her testimony, we may still be able to prove that the document was forged. Even if we can't, there is a case to be made that you were not in a fit state of mind to sign this. Including the fact that you were a minor at the time… there is an argument to be made that this bill of sale is null."

"I won't lend any credence to the lie that I signed this contract," Phineas insisted, staring at Mr. Hargrove with cool intensity. "Even if you think it could help our case. I won't let Carfield win like that."

"Your Grace, if the contract is ruled to be void, then he would hardly be winning."

"I never signed this contract, and I will not let you tell the court that I did. I will maintain that my signature was forged until my dying breath, because that is the truth."

Mr. Hargrove held up his hands in surrender. "Of course, Your Grace, I understand. Then we must look into the binding nature of a contract that was never notarized and see if Lady Carfield will agree to come forth with the truth. That may be difficult, as Lord Carfield will undoubtedly put a tremendous amount of pressure on her to testify in his defense."

"Lady Carfield no longer lives with her husband," Phineas revealed.

He watched with irritation as Mr. Hargrove's expression changed slightly—from surprise to disapproval and back to polite professionalism.

"I see," the solicitor said at last. "And where does she reside? Will we be able to get in touch with her?"

"I… am not sure," Phineas admitted.

His wife seemed particularly reluctant to speak about her mother, and he had not been able to get from her how long it had been since she'd seen her, or where she lived. It was possible Iris didn't know.

"I can find out," Phineas offered.

What's the point of being a duke if you can't get people to track down witnesses for you?

"Very well," Mr. Hargrove said. "In that case, I will?—"

At that moment, he was interrupted by a commotion outside his office. He stared at the door as a woman's voice filled the antechamber outside. Phineas stiffened as well. He knew that voice…

Seconds later, the door was thrown open, and Iris stormed into the office.

If Phineas had thought his wife attractive before, it was nothing compared to what he thought now as she marched into the office. She looked angry—furious, even—but the passion of the emotions suited her. The color in her cheeks was rosy, and her neck and collarbones were flushed as well. It seemed to light her up, like a dazzling, brilliant sun. Her eyes were sparkling from exertion, and there was a look of fierce determination on her face that made his stomach flutter. She looked like a warrior maiden, come to claim her revenge, and it suited her beyond belief.

Behind her, the solicitor's secretary followed meekly, wringing his hands. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, Mr. Hargrove," he whimpered. "I told Her Grace that you were preoccupied, but she insisted on coming in…"

"You did the right thing to let her in, Jameson," Mr. Hargrove said, standing up at once. He bowed to Iris. "Your Grace, how may I help?—"

"You said you would protect them!" Iris interrupted, speaking directly to her husband. She had eyes only for him, and slowly, he rose to his feet.

"Duchess," Phineas said, bowing low. "You are clearly distressed. Now, tell me what the problem is, and I will tell you how I will fix it."

"Oh, you'll fix it, will you?" She let out a wild, derisive laugh. "Just like you promised to make sure my sisters weren't sold off in marriage like chattel?"

Phineas's stomach twisted with horror. "Your father has threatened one of your sisters?"

"He's already promised her to a man! They have just to sign the contract, and then it will be too late!"

"How do you know?"

"A letter came. He…" Iris glanced at Mr. Hargrove, as if unsure how much to say in front of him, then plowed on. "He knew the information I sent him was misleading. He must have realized I had decided to fight him. The girls had just arrived, and he sent a letter calling Violet back so she could meet Lord Redfield, so he could decide if she was worthy to be his bride." She spat these last words out, clearly disgusted.

Phineas felt a wave of cold fury rush through him. Lord Redfield was a lecherous old man, reviled by every respectable member of the ton. It was preposterous that any father would marry his daughter off to such a man.

"This is your fault!" Iris continued, clearly too angry to do anything but shout. "I have held up my end of the bargain, and you have failed to hold up yours. You said you would protect them, and now…"

Tears filled her eyes, and she seemed to deflate in front of him. Phineas reached out to her and caught her just in time. She was limp as she looked up into his eyes.

"You have to save her," she whispered. "Please, Phineas. Save my sister."