Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

" G ood God, man, who died?" James exclaimed.

He was staring up at Phineas from a wingback chair in the main room of their club, where, just moments before, he had been sipping brandy and playing chess with his cousin, Nathan Goldwin, the Marquess of Ketterdon.

Phineas had just strode in and made a beeline for the men, whom he'd known would be there, as they always were on weekday afternoons. Something in his expression must have alarmed them though, because they were both gazing up at him, concerned looks on their faces. James looked practically bemused.

Phineas, however, didn't see what was so amusing. He had come straight to White's after escorting his wife home, and rage filled every inch of him. This rage, however, gave him purpose. Everything felt clear, the way it always did when he was close to achieving a long-sought goal and knew exactly what to do next to ensure his victory.

"No one yet," he growled. "But Lord Carfield might be meeting a very unfortunate end soon if I have my way."

James let out a long ahhhh of understanding. "What has he done now? Did he make a move to protect the mines?"

"What? No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's Violet, his daughter. He's promised her to Lord Redfield."

"Well then, I don't envy the girl," Lord Ketterdon said, stretching out and reaching for his glass of brandy. "Although I suppose she'll be a widow soon, which is some consolation…"

"There will be no marriage," Phineas snapped, making him pause with his glass halfway to his mouth, looking confused. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"All right, calm down, man." James stood up and put a hand on Phineas's arm. "Sit down and have some brandy, tell us what's going on."

"I don't have time for brandy," Phineas said. "I need your help to stop this marriage, and I need it now."

"Of course, we'll help," James reassured.

Even in his single-mindedness, Phineas felt a flair of appreciation for his old friend, who was so willing to jump to his aid, even without understanding the reason.

Lord Ketterdon, however, looked uncertain. "I'm happy to help if I can, Your Grace, but is it our place to meddle in another family's business?"

Phineas couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't understand the urgency of the situation. The memory of Iris's tears, and her terror, was flooding him with panic. He'd barely even stopped to consider what it was he planned to do, or how unquestioningly he was leaping to his wife's aid. All he knew was that he would go to the ends of the earth to keep this wedding from happening—to ensure Iris's happiness.

Now, he fixed both men with a glare and declared, "It is my business. I made my wife a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter what."

"There's nothing we can do!" Violet cried, her voice much louder than Iris was used to.

She was usually so calm and collected, the kind of person who spoke only when she had something important to say, and even then, she had never raised her voice to make herself heard above others. Now, however, there was a slightly hysterical edge to her voice, and her eyes were wild.

They were sitting on the sofa in Iris's parlor. Several hours had passed since the letter had arrived from their father, and so far, Iris had not sent her sister home. If their father wanted Violet to come home, he would have to come here and take her. That was the only way Iris was letting go of her sister.

So far, the Viscount had yet to try and force Violet to come home. Why should he? The law was on his side. Until Violet was of age, she was his to marry whomever he wanted. And while most rectors wouldn't marry an unwilling woman, there was always someone that you could pay off to perform a ceremony against the bride's will. If anyone could find such a man, it was their father.

"We can't give up," Iris told her sister sternly. "I will keep you here if I have to, but I won't let you marry that horrible man!"

"But, Iris, I am technically Father's property." Violet's eyes were filled with unshed tears, and it broke Iris's heart to see it. "If you keep me here, he could send the Bow Street Runners to bring me home…"

"It won't come to that," Iris assured her, even as doubt tinged her words.

Would their father resort to such unsavory tactics? He wouldn't like the scandal attached to it, but as he had demonstrated recently, he was willing to sacrifice the family's good name to further his own ends.

"What about your husband?" Rosalie asked anxiously. She hadn't said much since the revelation of Violet's betrothal, which was unusual. Instead, she'd been sitting on the sofa, holding Violet's hand, crying quietly. "He's a duke. Can't he do something to help us?"

Iris bit back the angry reply she wanted to make. Phineas had already let them down enough. He had promised that he would protect her sisters, but he had failed to prevent this from happening. And she didn't believe for a second that he couldn't have discovered her father's scheme ahead of time.

Nothing happened in the ton without word getting out, especially at the clubs where all the gentlemen spent their days. If he had been paying attention to anything other than his quest for revenge, he would have known her father and Lord Redfield had been hatching this plan…

Violet, however, was shaking her head. "Dukes are powerful, but they're not omnipotent. He cannot keep me here against Father's will. He isn't my guardian. The law is on Father's side."

All three of them were silent for a moment. Iris was thinking hard. If the Duke couldn't help them, if it was hopeless… then she would have to take matters into her own hands. Standing up, she began to pace back and forth in front of the sofas.

"We could send you abroad," she suggested. "It would cause a scandal, and ruin Rosalie's chances of marrying well, so you'd probably have to go with her, Rose. To France, perhaps. Or America. Somewhere Father won't find you…"

Violet stared at her incredulously. "You mean for me to be on the run for the rest of my life? And for Rose to forfeit her chances at a happy, normal life?"

"What chance does she really have, with Father arranging a match for her?" Iris argued.

"I can't do that to Rose," Violet said, and something in her eyes seemed to harden. "I am not so selfish as to ruin both your lives just because I do not care for my father's choice of bridegroom. No… I think I'll have to go through with it."

"You can't!" Iris shouted, and Rosalie nodded in agreement. "I won't allow it!"

"I'll be no different from the countless women before me who were married off to men they disliked," Violet said softly. She reached out and took Iris's hand, stilling her. "I'll be no different from you, marrying a man you hardly knew."

Iris sank down to her knees so that she was crouching in front of her sister, looking up at her. "Please," she murmured, "don't give up. Not yet."

"There will be no giving up," came a deep male voice from behind them.

All three sisters turned to see Phineas striding into the room, a thunderous look on his face.

Nor was it the only noticeable thing on his face. His left eye was badly bruised, and there was a cut on his eyebrow. His hair was mussed, his cravat had come undone, and the rest of his clothes were decidedly rumpled. He looked as if he had gotten into some kind of altercation.

Gasping, Iris jumped to her feet. "Phineas—Duke!" she cried, hurrying over to him. "What happened to you? Are you well?"

She wasn't quite sure what she was going to do when she got to him, but Phineas decided for her. When she reached him, he took her hands in his and pressed them against his chest. His eyes burned with something she'd never seen before as he gazed down at her.

"I am well," he replied, his voice gruff but soft. "And I assure you, everything will be well with Miss Violet as well."

"What do you mean?" Iris asked, unable to look away from the intensity of his stare.

"I mean that she won't be marrying Lord Redfield."

Iris's mouth fell open, and behind her, she heard her sisters gasp.

"Do you really mean it, Your Grace?" Violet asked uncertainly.

Turning around, Iris saw that her sister had stood up. Violet looked very pale and wobbly, but she was looking at Phineas with hope in her eyes.

"I do," the Duke said gravely. "You have my word on that."

He touched Iris's shoulder, and she turned back to him, unable to hold back the smile on her face and the tears in her eyes.

"What did you do?" she whispered. "How did you make this happen?"

"Don't worry about that," he said. "The matter is settled. But there are two things I need you to know, Iris." It was the first time he had used her first name, and it made her breath catch in her throat. "First of all, I always keep my promises. And secondly, I will always protect you and your loved ones. Even if I had not promised to protect your sisters, I still would, simply because you are my wife. The circumstances of how our marriage came about do not matter. Now that you are my wife, now that you are the Duchess of Eavestone, I will always safeguard you and the people you love. Do you understand?"

Iris couldn't speak. Her throat was clogged with tears, and anyway, there was nothing she could say to articulate how she felt.

Her whole life, she had seen marriage as a life sentence of misery. That's what her parents' marriage had demonstrated to her. Never before had she thought that it could be safety, security, or peace. So she simply nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as a new feeling filled her. She couldn't quite describe what it was, but it felt as if her heart were soaring.