They probably think I am some horribly uncultured yokel.“Dash did mention your household had been running on less than optimal staff,” Juliet said diplomatically.
Lydia nodded but did not say anything further. At that moment, Iris popped her head out of the closet, wearing some of Lydia’s shoes and a bright purple hat that Lydia assumed must have been missed when the servants cleaned out the old duchess’ things.
“Iris!” Juliet exclaimed. “You cannot just put on someone else’s clothes without asking!”
“But this hat was Grandma’s, and she’s dead. I can’t ask her.” Iris pointed out.
“But those shoes are the Du— Lydia’s.” Cora gave her niece a stern look.
“Honestly, it’s quite all right. I don’t mind.” Lydia smiled at the little girl who beamed back. “Though it probably is better to ask—you never know when you might upset someone.”
Iris’ eyes widened. “Did I upset you?”
“No, I rather like sharing my things.” Lydia looked down at Iris and winked. “Besides, you look very lovely in those shoes.”
“Thank you.” Iris grinned.
“You’re lucky Lydia’s so nice, you little rascal.” Cora caught up Iris in her arms and tickled her, making the child squeal in delight.
“Put me down!” Iris kicked, the too big shoes flew off, and Lydia caught them which earned her an impressed look from Cora.
“Nice catch.” Cora put Iris down, and the little girl nodded her agreement.
“Thank you—call it growing up with a younger brother.” Lydia smiled at Cora, finding herself at ease in the other woman’s company.
Lydia looked around the room, her eyes taking in the garish décor that she had not really paid much attention to the day before. Guilt stirred within her as she remembered how she had lied about the headache, not wanting to deal with the Duke’s sudden swing to coldness and fearing that his sister’s would be the same.
I need not have worried. Well, not about them at any rate.
A tray and cloche sat on an absurd-looking table made out of what looked like ivory. The sitting area was garish with crystal chandeliers and mismatching furniture that did not suit the style of the wallpaper or the rugs or the curtains.
“My mother liked expensive things.” Cora gestured around the room, the movement reminding Lydia so forcibly of Archer that it made her chest ache.
“Your brother mentioned as much. He did not seem particularly enamoured with the room.” Lydia thought about the way his lip had curled when they discussed the décor. “Did they not get along very well?”
“That is one way of putting it,” Juliet said with the air of someone trying to be as diplomatic as possible.
“Grandma was a miserable co—” Iris began, but Cora clapped a hand over her niece’s mouth.
“What Iris means is that my mother was a rather… difficult woman.”
Iris glared at Cora as her aunt released her, and Lydia stifled a giggle. “I was just saying what you always said about grandma.”
“And what have I told you about doing that in company?”
“But Aunties aren’t company, they’re family.” Iris’ eyes widened as she spotted something out of the window, and she hurried out of the room before anyone could stop her.
“Should we go after her?” Lydia asked.
“If she is not back in five minutes, yes. But until then, it is far better to let her tire herself out.” Cora leaned back in the chair, cursing when she couldn’t find a comfortable position.
“Iris seems rather delightful.” Lydia nodded her head towards the door.
“Our little, sparkling rainbow,” Juliet agreed.
“Pardon?” Lydia asked.
Juliet laughed. “Dash named her after the Greek goddess of rainbows.”
